The Historical Misrepresentation of Edouard Beaupré: A Conversation About Métis and Fransaskois Identity

Jessie Ray Short: I have been working on a documentary about my great great uncle Edouard Beaupré for a number of years now, and throughout my research I have noticed that he is primarily presented as French Canadian. The many retellings of his story ignore the fact that he was more accurately a Métis man. Beaupré is missing an important part of his story: that he was born to and raised by a Métis mother. His matriarchal lineage to Métis culture is a connection that I am interested in re-establishing. This unaccounted relationship has also led me to explore the connections between French Canadians and Métis. I’m curious about the points in which these histories and lineages overlap, as well as how they are overlooked, actively whitewashed, or erased.

Laura, I recall meeting you at an exhibition opening and mentioning to you that I was working on a project about Edouard Beaupré. You instantly knew who he was and noted that he was an important part of Fransaskois¹ culture. You remembered learning about him in school but when I mentioned to you that he was Métis, I think you were surprised to find that out. I know we only discussed this briefly that night, among the art and artists, but your interest in his historical misrepresentation and willingness to engage in an open discussion encouraged me to pursue this conversation.

Although we won’t be discussing the breadth of Edouard Beaupré’s life, I want to share a little about his legacy and place within Canadian history. Beaupré was born in 1881 in the town of Willow Bunch, SK, to his parents Gaspard Beaupré (a French Canadian man originally from Québec) and Florestine Piché (a Cree-Métis woman who moved to Willow Bunch with her family after leaving the Red River area following the Red River Resistance). In his mid-teens Edouard began to grow rapidly, and by the time he was twenty-one years old, he had reached seven feet eleven inches. As a young man, he toured with freak shows and circuses as a giant. He passed away suddenly while working at the St. Louis World’s Fair in 1904 at the young age of twenty-three. Believing that Edouard had been buried in St. Louis, Missouri, as communicated by Edouard’s managers, family members were unaware that his body was repeatedly displayed and re-sold to various exhibitors before ultimately ending up in the anatomy department of the Université de Montréal in 1907. Edouard’s body would not be returned to his family for a burial ceremony in his birth place until 1990, eighty-five years after his death. I attended his funeral with my family when I was a child. Edouard still holds the record for tallest person in Canada, having grown to a height of eight feet, three inches.

Laura St. Pierre: Yes, I was thrilled to have my memory rekindled about Edouard Beaupré, as he was an important figure in Fransaskois and French Immersion schools in Saskatchewan. We also knew him as the “Géant de Willow Bunch” and, although I don’t remember many of the specifics, he is a legend in Fransaskois culture. As you mention, I don’t recall ever being taught that he was Métis.

I returned to Saskatchewan in 2013 after having lived in other provinces for many years. When I came back, I happened to find a studio space with other Fransaskois artists and joined a collective called Sans-atelier. This experience gave me an opportunity to consider what it means to be Fransaskois and how Fransaskois identity is constructed.

There have been French speakers in Saskatchewan since the mid-eighteenth century, when French Canadian fur traders set up trading posts. Small French-Métis communities evolved from there. Then, in the late 1800s, peaking in the 1920s, large groups of French Canadians and French Europeans migrated to the province. The Catholic church was largely responsible for this recruitment and helped to establish numerous large francophone communities. These French speakers called themselves Fransaskois, and for much of the eighteenth and nineteenth century, French would have been the dominant European language of the region.

Now, of course, the Fransaskois are a much smaller minority. It always seemed to me that our teachers were struggling to define Fransaskois culture in relation to French culture and Québécois culture, as something both related but distinct. For example, both at home and at school, the Catholic religion was closely tied to Fransaskois culture. The way we celebrate Christmas, for example, involves going to midnight mass and then having a big feast and opening our gifts afterwards. But, with the Quiet Revolution of the 1960s, the Québécois rejected the church outright. The secularization of the Fransaskois happened more gradually, at the same rate as other prairie dwellers. This is just an example, but it illustrates the point that we’re not Québécois living outside of Québec; we have our own history and traditions. That’s why, I think, Edouard Beaupré was featured in the curriculum: he was a historical Fransaskois figure of import, born and raised here in Saskatchewan.

But half of his identity was erased or downplayed: he was also Métis. Why would this be omitted? Was the perception that Fransaskois kids wouldn’t identify with Edouard if his Métis background was also discussed? That’s a pretty big leap. Also, there were Métis kids in the class, declared and not; what about their history and identity?

It occurs to me now that this surprise is a result of me looking back at the 1980s with a contemporary lens. Instead of rewriting the curriculum to be anti-colonialist and anti-racist, teachers now are expected to connect the standardized curriculum to Indigenous cultures and histories whenever possible. But my experience with systemic racism in Canada’s education system isn’t unique. Racism in the prairies is often overt and undoubtedly carries over into the classroom.

JRS: I’m only mildly surprised that you never learned Edouard was also Métis. I recall growing up in Calgary and feeling fairly confident that most people here would have at least heard of Métis, even if they didn’t know much about the diverse communities, families, and historical ties that connect Métis peoples. This was very different from my experience of doing my post-secondary education in southern Ontario where I frequently encountered people who had never heard of Métis people. I suppose I always assumed that in the prairies, especially in Saskatchewan where Edouard was born and raised, people would know who he was and what his lineage was—including that of his Métis mother Florestine—but clearly, this is not always the case.

LSP: The elimination of Edouard’s Métis heritage makes me curious about not only the missing pieces of his life but also the elimination of Métis histories from Canadian visual culture. I know that he spoke several languages, and you mentioned that he could read and write, but there must be so much more to his story. What was it like for Edouard in the late nineteenth century? To not only live on the prairies but travel the continent as Métis?

JRS: There is definitely a historical erasure of Métis people that continues to this day, and Edouard’s Métis ancestry is no different. There seemed to be a tendency to promote Edouard based on getting crowds in the door. The entertainment company would often promote him as being from the place they were visiting. I’ve found advertisements and newspaper articles from across North America calling him the French giant, the Montana giant, or the Vermont giant, for instance. Of course, Edouard was widely known in Québec, where his father Gaspard originated, and he spoke fluent French as well as English, Cree, and Sioux. I suspect that he also spoke a dialect of Michif. He was frequently seen in and around Montréal during the handful of years that he was actively working as a spectacle before he died. I think once his body ended up in Montréal around 1907, his legacy in Québec continued, further cementing his identity as uniquely French Canadian.

Edouard was known to be a man of French and Indigenous ancestry during the time he was actively working. An interview with Ella Ewing, a woman from Missouri who was the tallest woman of her era and actively worked the entertainment circuit around the same time as Edouard, showcases why his Métis heritage may have been erased from his public identity. Although Ella was almost ten years older than Edouard, promoters repeatedly announced their marriage as a publicity stunt. It’s unclear whether they ever even met each other in person. A newspaper in 1902 printed the following reply from Ella in response to yet another public marriage announcement: “Miss Ella Ewing, the Missouri giantess, denies emphatically that there is any possibility of a marital union between herself and Edward Beaupre, the northern Montana giant…Beaupre, she says, is a halfbreed, and speaks of him as ‘an inferior kind of a giant,’…Beaupre is French-Indian.”²

Halfbreed (also the title of Maria Campbell’s groundbreaking 1973 memoir) was a common term for those who were of Indigenous and European ancestry at the time that Edouard Beaupré was alive and working. Although this colloquialism was widespread, it was often utilized as a derogatory expression. One of the ways that Métis lineages can be demonstrated is through halfbreed scrips, official government documents and processes that economically and politically severed Métis from their First Nations relations. The program promised Métis people money or land deeds, but they infrequently received either. Nevertheless, Edouard did apply for a halfbreed scrip, although he never actually received the land he was granted. However, the documents exist to this day linking Édouard, and his contemporary relations, to this legacy.

Although I don’t personally advocate for a return to the term “halfbreed,” the contemporary term Métis seems to create some linguistic confusion, both in English and French. Métis is a French word meaning “mixed,” and many scholars have philosophized at length the idea of métissage to describe sort of adhoc mixtures of whatever to create new beings. But Métis, as I identify, has a distinct lineage to people, communities, languages, and lands that have interacted in specific ways since the early days of colonization. I am not métis as in mixed (métissage), but Métis, as in from specific family lineages associated with certain places that were part of the genesis of Métis identities over time. When I work in French, I tend to speak of myself as Michif because it’s not a French word and Francophones don’t understand it. Michif is a critically endangered language invented by Métis peoples usually involving differing mixtures of French and Cree (there are different dialects, some including words from other languages too), although typically speaking just one or the other language will not provide you with a perfect, or even near perfect, comprehension—Michif is its own thing. Michif evades the linguistic connection to simply being “mixed.” Similarly, I am a mixed person, because I’m also Ukrainian and German as well as Métis, but not simply because I am Métis.

Speaking about languages, however, I find it amusing that we are having this dialogue in English, which is a legacy of the colonial power of English Canada. Nous parlons nous deux le Français, toi mieux que moi, c’est sûr, mais nous pourrons communiquer en Français quand même. C’est la raison pour laquelle je t’ai demandé de discuter cette ques- tion d’identités Michif et Fransaskoise. I learned French as a young adult, mostly out of curiosity. I had no idea how much it would help me understand my ancestors, especially Edouard. There are so many options across Canada for those looking to learn French but only a handful of people teaching Michif. It strikes me as I write this that despite my familial connection to the French language, I have never considered myself French Canadian!

LSP: Yes, we could be having this discussion in French! Speaking of French—as I’ve been ruminating about our discussion, I have been thinking that you MUST release a version of your documentary about Edouard Beaupré in French, so that all of the schools in Saskatchewan can use it!

I am a mixed person as well, with some English and German ancestors only a few generations back. Some of my francophone ancestors went through Québec on their way to Saskatchewan while others came directly from France to the prairies and brought with them different traditions and sensibilities. Although both of my parents grew up speaking French in Saskatchewan, one learned it in school while the other did not. This was the result of the ban on the instruction of French in Saskatchewan schools for many years. This ban is a long story, but in summary, in the late nineteenth century there were French Catholic public schools in Saskatchewan, including in Duck Lake, where my mother was later born and raised. Then, in 1888 provincial laws were enacted that forbade the instruction of French at the primary level.³

The language instruction laws flip-flopped until 1931 when English was declared to be the only language of instruction in the province. If we have any doubt that racism was involved here, we should note that the campaign against French instruction was supported by Orange Order and the KKK. It seems there was some leeway in divisions where school trustees were amenable to other languages, but there was no legal protection for language rights in education. Finally, the Education Act was amended in 1966 toallow French as a language of instruction. However, by then, at least one generation of French speakers had been lost in most areas, achieving what the government had been after: the assimilation of French speakers.

Education laws aside, the transmission of French language and culture didn’t have the same level of priority on my maternal and paternal sides of the family. I think this had a lot to do with each specific ancestral lineage, as well as class and ideas about the need for assimilation to achieve success. As for me and my siblings, I am the only one that continues to speak French and whose child speaks French. So, all of this is to say that I think how we identify is influenced by social forces but also some very specific circumstances particular to each family and each person within that family.

JRS: You’ve reminded me of a story that Lori Blondeau told me about the long-time presence of the KKK in Saskatchewan, and more specifically in the Qu’Appelle valley area. The Roman Catholic church set up a parish in the area early on and served a mainly Métis and First Nations congregation. There is a tiny little church up on the hill across the street from the main cathedral in Lebret, and Lori noted that she used to play around the small chapel when she was a kid. There was a fairly large hole in the ground right by that little chapel that she was always curious about, and one day she asked her dad about the hole. Apparently some time in the 1920s the KKK paraded into the town and made a big spectacle of marching up the hill and lighting the tiny church on fire in front of the shocked community. The church that is there now was rebuilt after the fire, although the hole that Lori mentioned was where the original chapel stood. I was in Lebret for the first time ever in the fall of 2020, and we walked up the hill, past the tiny church. The ground is still quite uneven, dented and scarred, around the small chapel to this day.

I find it fascinating to think of the different roles people within a family play in maintaining particular cultural connections— a phenomenon you’ve just highlighted in your own family. Without these memory-keepers, these important stories get lost, such as Lori’s story about the reason for the hole beside the small chapel in Lebret. I felt that the documentary about Édouard was important for me to make, because to date, all stories about him (and there are lots in books, newspapers, and floating around on the Internet) with any sort of recognition have all come from authors, journalists, and researchers, etc., outside of our family. As far as I know, this documentary will be the first public work about Edouard by a member of his family. Most of the film will probably take place in English, with as much French as possible, but the reality is most of my family doesn’t speak French anymore, and no one speaks Michif. I’m really hoping to include some Michif to highlight and reinforce the connection to Michif culture and provide a more public platform for the dissemination of this endangered language.

Speaking of family and connections, you told me some of your Fransaskois family on your Dad’s side was from the Debden area of Saskatchewan. My great grandparents, Joe Short and Georgiana Beaupré (one of Édouard’s sisters), moved to Park Valley from Willow Bunch, which is very close to Debden. It delights me to think that they may have actually crossed paths on more than one occasion! And here we are, their descendents, writing an article together over half a century later!

LSP: That’s amazing! We could be related! Isn’t that how most conversations on the prairies end? Perfect!

Seriously though, it’s difficult to wrap up this conversation because there is so much to discuss here—this is just a cursory start. But one thing I do take away from this discussion is the role of a person’s own agency in shaping their identity. Both during his life and posthumously, Edouard Beaupré’s identity was shaped by those around him to serve their own purposes. This is heartbreaking to me. And, frankly, our conversation has also been a reminder to me that, as Francophones, we need to examine our role as colonizers, in this instance enacting the erasure of part of Indigenous history.

I have deep admiration for the work that you are doing in trying to tell the full story of who Edouard Beaupré really was. Instead of a somewhat unidimensional Fransaskois folk hero, he now becomes a whole person. Your work will help us to understand the deeper historical connections between the Fransaskois and the Métis. I hope this encourages the community to re-examine other Fransaskois stories in search of what has been omitted or erased. I think we could learn a lot from that.

And thank you, Jessie, for having this conversation with me. I can’t tell you how much I’ve learned about my own and Métis culture. I’m deeply grateful for your generosity and curiosity!

JRS: Thanks so much for your interest in writing about this topic with me, for all your thoughtful words, Laura, and for sharing about your family and identity. It feels like we’ve really just scratched the surface here, and I hope this is a conversation we can continue, with each other and within our respective communities. These are such layered, nuanced, and important conversations to have, and I hope that discussions like these can help us to better understand connections, as well as respect and acknowledge differences. Maarsii!

Jessie Ray Short is an artist, filmmaker and independent curator of Métis, Ukrainian and German descent. Her prac- tice involves uncovering connections between a myriad of topics that interest her, including, but not limited to, space and time, Indigenous and settler histories, Métis visual culture, personal narratives, spiritual and scientific belief systems, parallel universes, electricity, aliens and non-human being(s). She explores these topics using mediums such as film and video, performance art, finger weaving, sewing and writing. She’s been invited to show her work nationally and internationally, including at the Agnes Etherington Art Centre (Kingston), at La Chambre Blanche (Québec City), Art Mûr Berlin (a satellite exhibition of the Contemporary Native Art Biennial/BACA) (Germany), and at the Wairoa Maori Film Festival (New Zealand). She is deeply grateful to be based in oskana kâ-asastêki or Pile of Bones (also known as Regina) in Treaty 4 territory.

Laura St. Pierre is a visual artist of French, English and German descent living on Treaty 6 territory. She uses photography, video and installation to explore questions related to climate change.

1. The Fransaskois are francophones living in Saskatchewan. https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/francophones-of-saskatchewan-fransaskois.
2. The Minneapolis journal. (Minneapolis, Minn.), 11 Aug. 1902. Chronicling America: Historic American Newspapers. Lib. of Congress. https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045366/1902-08-11/ ed-1/seq-4/.
3. https://esask.uregina.ca/entry/french_education_in_saskatchewan.jsp.

This article is published in issue 38.1 of BlackFlash magazine. Get this issue