Remember when they wrote a tongue in cheek song for Montreal's notorious Lucien Rivard
Here's the words:
THE BALLAD OF BORDEAUX JAIL
Anne-Marie Fauteux (1965)
The warden sat at sundown,
A busy day was o’er,
He’d just lit up a fat cigar,
When a knock came at the door.
“Entrez, entrez !” the warden cried,
“La porte she is ajar !”
And who walked in, to his surprise,
But Big-Wheel, Lou Rivard !
“How come, Big-Wheel, you promenade,
It’s curfew-time, n’est-ce pas ?
I warning you to prenez-garde,
Before you break the law !”
“Pardonnez-moi mon capitane,
I did not stop to think,
But with your kind permission,
I would like to hose the rink.”
“To hose the rink ? Why sacre-bleu,
You must be wan big fool !
The rink my friend she’s beaucoup d’eau,
Like outdoor swimming pool !”
Now Rivard, like the quick brown fox,
Who must outwit the hound,
He senses with his gambler’s ken,
That he is gaining ground.
“It’s true Monsieur that ce matin,
The rink was soft like slop,
Regardez – since après-midi,
The temperature go plop !”
“C’est vrai, fait chaud from where you sit,
Across the great divide,
But where I stand I feel a draft,
Bébé it’s cold outside !”
“Eh bien, voilà, go get the hose,
Permission you obtain,
Like my new boss, Claude Wagner say,
We must be more humane.”
“Merci Monsieur, au revoir, adieu,
Light up your cold cigar,
I will not bother you again,
Exit Lucien Rivard ! !”
“Exit ! Exit !” the warden muse,
“He make the big joke, no ?
Quelle difference, he safe behind
The walls of old Bordeaux !”
One hour she pass, the warden doze,
Then bingo, tout de suite,
The sirens wail, the guards aussi,
There’s panic in the street ! !
The warden freeze – like paralyze,
The joke he get trop tard,
“Certainement, mon dieu, c’est ça,
The hose – the rink – Rivard ! ! ! “
Trop tard ! He stagger to his feet,
No need to ask pourquoi,
“Certainement – mon dieu – c’est ça,
Lucien Rivard s’en va ! !”
He cry, Monsieur the warden,
Enfin he see it all,
Big hose not for the rink by gar,
Big hose for over wall ! !
He grind his teeth, he pull his hairs,
He’ll never smile again,
As he implore, encore, — encore –
“WHERE ARE YOU LUCIEN ! ! ! “
EPILOGUE
The search goes on relentless,
Through valley, hill and dell,
They seek him here, they seek him there,
That Gallic Pimpernel.
For years to come in Crooksville,
They’ll tell the epic tale,
How Rivard left his footprints,
On the walls of Bordeaux Jail.
6 comments:
At the time of this escape I was working at the Toronto Dominion at Peel and St-Catherine I had to look in the basements in these carboard boxes for 30 years of cheques in the name Of Marie Rivard. The rubber bands would desintegrate and the cheques smelled musky. That is why I still remember her name today. Oh yeah it made be late for beer.
First Job and probably worst was i the same branch frrom August 1964 to November 1964. Unfriendly snootyaccountants (mostly), virtually no training. Largest account - Guarantee Pure Milk... Hogg family.
Had to pick up those damn cancelled cheques by bus every morning early and drop them off in old Montreal area and drop off new ones at night -took hours in traffic.The lunch lady was nice though.
Hey sounds like you were there at same time as me the big boss was JKHeap first teller was a redhead I can't remember her name one of the accountants was Tommy Boyd another teller was Paul Corlett whos's father was a big big boss at TD. At 3 0'closk the cokes and the flasks came out. I had to deliver the damn checks at night. At the time there was a fire across st-catherine and some thief robbed the teller at the bank of Montral in the commotion, I also remember that A&W had a promotion for hamburgers that said "Bon happy tits" (that's a french ponunciation) Another guy was Geatan who was a drummer for JB and the Playboys at one time. At my cash the best customer was Jean who was the bookeeper for the Esquire. Where I was a regular customer
You probably had to deliver the cheques because I got fired for constantly delivering them late in the morning. I don't remember any of the names except the friendly accountant was a French guy who was the only one to treat me well. The head accountant I believe had a bit of a UK accent and was an ass. (Hope it wasn't you). The guard was a large older guy also nice. I was the coin teller that sorted all the coins that came in every day from GPMil moslt were louse. Learned to hand roll coins real well. Insurance dictated that the last teller (Me) had to have a gun in his drawer. I don't think it would have worked it was so old and cruddy. I was told NEVER to touch it if anything happened That instruction was not needed...trust me. With all the bank robberies at that time in Montreal I was always nervous as I was immediately in front of the side door.....
I remember that the gun was filthy also. The accountants were probably hungover I know I was. I was first a gopher then a teller I didn't stay long either I got a job at CN much better pay. I do remember however the fantastic cinnamon buns in tha little coffee shop in Dominion square that I miss.
I remember my Dad reading that poem to me as a little girl! WOW - talk about time travel...!! LOL
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