THE OYSTER ON ITS TRAVELS.
The Isle of Sheppey, the Medway, and Whitstable; Milton, Queenborough,
Rochester, and Faversham Oysters; Colchester and Essex Beds; Edinburgh
Pandores and Aberdours; Dublin Carlingfords and Powldoodies; Poole and
its Oyster-bank; Cornish Oysters and the Helford Beds; Poor Tyacke, and
How he was Done; Dredgers and their Boats; Auld Reekie's Civic
Ceremonials; Song of the Oyster; its Voyage to Market, and Journey by
Coach and Rail.
Who that has travelled by water from London Bridge to Herne Bay—and who
among us who live within the sound of Bow bells has not?—should the trip
have been made in the beginning of August, but must have noticed, after
having passed the Isle of Sheppey, a little fishing-town to his right,
in East Swale Bay, raising its head out of the river like a joyous child
dressed in its gayest attire, anticipating a long-looked-for holiday? It
is the 4th of August, and its holiday is at hand, for to-morrow the
oyster season begins; and the town is Whitstable, in Kent, standing out
gaily with its bright flags and pennons in beautiful relief from the low
marshy soil by which it is surrounded. Then, too, the dredgers, in their
picturesque costume, add greatly to the gay appearance of the place,
whilst some seventy or eighty vessels lying in the offing bespeak the
importance of the oyster traffic between it and the Great Metropolis.
What the Lucrine was to the citizen of Rome is the estuary of the Medway
with the Swale to the citizen of London. The "Natives" obtained at
Milton are in the highest repute, and consumed in every part of England;
nor are the Faversham, Queenborough, and Rochester denizens less so;
nor, indeed, any of the "breedy creatures" which are raised in the other
beds of the Swale or the Medway.
The trade in oysters, as we have seen, has been an object of
consideration in England for many ages, and now ranks in importance with
the herring, pilchard, and other fisheries. The excellence of our
oysters made the formation of artificial beds an object of attention
soon after the Roman conquest; and the Kentish and Essex beds show a
pedigree in consequence much older than that of the noble descendant of
any Norman adventurer who came over with the Conqueror, claiming, on
this head alone, precedence for our "Natives" amongst all the oysters of
the known world. But Britain is the boasted land of liberty, and the
"Natives" of one part of her coast boldly assert their equality with the
"Natives" of any other. If London delights in Milton and Colchester
oysters, Edinburgh has her "whispered Pandores" and Aberdours, and
Dublin her Carlingfords[4] and "Powldoodies of Burran;" whilst all
round our shores each locality boasts of its own "Natives" as the best
oysters in the land. Poole points proudly to her oyster-bank, and tells
miraculous tales of her fishery, and of the number of oysters she sends
to the London market, besides those which are pickled at sea for the
export trade to lands where a fresh oyster is still a luxury unknown.
The Poole fishermen who open oysters in their boats for pickling are
compelled, by an Act of the Legislature, to throw the shells on the
strand, and these, in the course of time, have formed a strong barrier
against the waves of the sea at the flow of the tide, having the
appearance of an island at high-water; and, simple as it is, such is the
sole construction of this celebrated breakwater.
I cannot be expected to take the reader on a voyage of discovery all
round the coast, nor to the Channel Islands, to taste the oysters which
Providence has spread out for our enjoyment with such a lavish hand. But
there is one little spot on the shores of Cornwall which I cannot pass
over, because from it came one of the colonies on the banks of the
Thames, from which the Whitstable boats still draw their annual supply.
Into Mount's Bay the Helford River, upon which stands the little town of
Helstone, empties itself, opposite Mount St. Michael's, into the sea,
and in the estuary of that little river, a person of the name of Tyacke,
within the memory of the "oldest inhabitant," rented certain
oyster-beds, famous amongst Cornish gourmets for a breed of oysters,
which, it is said, the Phœnicians, "a long time ago," had discovered to
be infinitely preferable to the watery things they got at home. These
Helford oysters are regularly brought to London; but when Tyacke rented
the beds they were unknown to the good citizens who frequented the
oyster taverns, of which the Cock in Fleet Street is but a last
lingering type. Determined to make his venture, Tyacke loaded a fishing
smack with the best produce of his beds, and coasted along the southern
shores, till passing round the Isle of Thanet he found himself in the
Mouth of the Thames. Little did the elated oyster dredger think that
that Mouth would swallow up the whole of his cargo; but so it came to
pass. It had long been evident to those on board that oysters that
travel, no less than men, must have rations allowed on the voyage, if
they are to do credit to the land of their birth. Now the voyage had
been long and tedious, and the oysters had not been fed, so Tyacke got
into his boat, and obtained an interview with the owner of the spot at
which it touched land. He asked permission to lay down his oysters, and
feed them. This was granted, and after a few days the spores of _ulva
latissima_ and _enteromorpha_, and of the host of delicate fibrous
plants which there abound, and all of which are the oyster's great
delight, made the whole green and fat, and in the finest condition for
reshipment. Four days, it is said, will suffice to make a lean oyster,
on such a diet, both green and plump; and Tyacke, joyful at the
improvement which he daily witnessed, let his stock feed on for a week.
It was towards evening that he bethought himself, as the tide was out,
that if he meant to reach Billingsgate by the next morning, it would be
wise to reship his oysters before turning in for the night. The boat was
lowered; but, as he attempted to land, he was warned off by the owner of
the soil, who stood there with several fierce looking fellows, armed
with cutlasses and fowling-pieces, evidently anticipating the
Cornishman's intention, and determined to frustrate it at all hazards.
"What do you want here?" he asked of Tyacke.
"The oysters I put down to feed," was the reply. "They were placed there
by your permission, and now I am anxious to reship them, to be in time
for to-morrow's market."
"True," replied the Kentishman, "I gave you leave to lay down the
oysters and feed them, but not a word was said about reshipping them.
Where they are, there they stay; and if you persist in trespassing, I
shall know what to do."
Poor Tyacke found himself much in the predicament of many a flat who has
been picked up by a sharp. A century ago law was not justice, nor
justice law. Perhaps it may not even be so now; and the story of the
lawyer who ate the oyster in dispute, and gave each of the disputants a
shell, may hold as good in our day as it did in that when the author of
the "Beggar's Opera" put it into verse.
The demand for oysters, wherever it exists along our coasts, creates a
profitable source of employment to a class of men who necessarily become
experienced seamen; and dredging for oysters is carried on in fleets, as
the beds mostly lie within a comparatively small space. The boats, which
are about fifteen feet long, usually carry a man and a boy, or two men.
The dredge is about eighteen pounds weight, and is required to be
heavier on a hard than on a soft bottom, and each boat is usually
provided with two dredges.
In former days the commencement of the dredging season was held
sufficiently important to entitle it to a civic ceremonial, at least
such was the wont of the municipal authorities of "Auld Reekie," who
also paid a particular regard both as to the supply and the price of
the"breedy creatures" furnished to the good citizens of Edinburgh. The
"Feast of Shells" was ushered in by the municipality of the ancient city
making, for provosts and bailiffs, a somewhat perilous voyage to the
oyster-beds in the Frith of Forth; and though the solemnity of wedding
the Frith formed no part of the chief magistrate's office, as wedding
the Adriatic with a gold ring did that of the Doge of Venice, the welkin
was made to ring, as three cheers from all present uprose and announced
the lifting of the first dredge upon the deck of the civic barge.
There is something poetical and pretty in the idea, which once
prevailed, that the oyster was a lover of music, and as the fishermen
trolled their dredging nets they sang,
"To charm the spirits of the deep."
The old ballad in use is still found in the mouth of many a hardy seaman
as he pursues his toil to the melodious words—
"The herring loves the merry moonlight,
The mackerel loves the wind,
But the oyster loves the dredger's song,
For he comes of a gentle kind."
Raised out of his native waters, the oyster makes the voyage to the
first station in his destined travels in the company of those to whom
long and kindred ties have bound him, on board the smack upon the deck
of which they were jointly landed from the deep; and during the whole
voyage, if it prove a long one, he is attentively supplied with
refreshing water, so that when the smack lays alongside the wharf at
which he is to part company with his captors, he is still as lively as
when they first took him as a passenger on board.
Arrived in port, the oyster first truly becomes sensible of the miseries
of slavery. Shovelled into sacks, or cast anyhow into carts and
handbarrows, he may consider himself fortunate if a kindly hand but
extends to him, in his great necessity, a drink of water impregnated
with salt, instead of his own delicious beverage from the sea. Yet this
is a cruelty which should be avoided wherever sea-water can be obtained,
because it is neither the salt nor the water which sustains the oyster's
life, but the spores of vegetation which abound in the sea, and by
mixing salt with fresh water we destroy even the life of the incipient
fresh-water plants which the latter contains. It is as great a mockery
as when Grumio proposes to give the famished Katherine the mustard
without the brawn, and need no longer exist if oyster dealers, who
cannot obtain sea-water, would provide themselves with the prepared
salts for the instantaneous production of artificial sea-water, the
recipe for the preparation of which is thus given in No. 735 of the
"Family Herald:"—
"For ten gallons it requires, sulphate of magnesia, 7-1/2 ounces;
sulphate of lime, 2-3/4 ounces; chloride of sodium, 43-1/4 ounces;
chloride of magnesia, 6 ounces; chloride of potassium, 1-1/4 ounce;
bromide of magnesium, 21 grains; carbonate of lime, 21 grains."
This should be allowed to stand exposed to the air in a strong sunlight
for a fortnight before it is used, during which time a few growing
plants of _enteromorpha_, or _ulva_ should be introduced to throw off
spores. These plants cost about one shilling each in London. The water
then, when under the microscope, will be found to contain a confervoid
vegetable growth, which forms as nourishing a food for the oyster as the
spores of sea-weed in its ocean bed. Oysters laid down in a large trough
and covered with this water will continue to live and thrive for months;
and it was to some such method as this that the Romans were indebted for
the preservation of their oysters in inland stews. On no account should
oatmeal, flour, or any such _dead_ stuff, be added, which only serves to
make the water foul and the oyster sick.
When oysters are to travel by coach or rail, they are usually dispatched
in barrels. Where the barrels are packed at the beds, as the Colchester
or "Pyfleet barrelled oysters" are, they should not be disturbed till
wanted for the table, as they will keep good as they are for a week or
ten days; for being carefully packed so as not to spill the water each
carries in a reservoir of Nature's providing, they need no other
viaticum for the journey.
The moment an oyster in the barrel opens its mouth it dies, because
there is nothing in the barrel to sustain its life. It is therefore as
well, on the receipt of the little cask, to open it at once by removing
the top and the first hoop, and then to place the top on the upper-most
layer of oysters, keeping it in position by the addition of some heavy
weight, which causes the staves to spread and stand erect; and as the
layers of oysters are required for the table, it is only necessary each
time to replace the top and the weight to a similar position to keep the
remainder fresh for a few days. But the true lover of an oyster will
have some regard for his little favourite. Sea-water may be had in
London and other large towns for sixpence per gallon, and when that
cannot be procured the pound packet of salts, according to the recipe we
have given, will not cost more than eighteen-pence at any chemist's, and
that quantity will produce three gallons of artificial sea-water. Thus
provided, unpack the barrel, and spread out the oysters in a large flat
earthenware dish, just covering them with water, and you may keep them
for many weeks as fresh as when they first left their beds.
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Footnote 4:
The Carlingford oyster is the best in Ireland; a black-bearded fellow,
delicate and of fine flavour, to be eaten in Dublin alternately with
the Redbank oyster, at a magnificent establishment in Sackville
Street, and to be washed down with alternate draughts of brown stout.
The Hibernian will tell you that even our Natives are inferior to
these. He is right in his patriotism, but wrong in his assertion. How
often do our prejudices trip up our judgment!