pleasing sight, for not a cow had we yet seen in the country. The lady
turned the conversation on music, and asked me if I played on any
instrument. I answered that I did, but very indifferently. Her forte,
she said, was music, of which she was indeed immoderately fond. Her
instrument had been sent to Europe to be repaired, but would return that
season, when the whole of her children would again perform many
beautiful airs; for in fact anybody could use it with ease, as when she
or the children felt fatigued, the servant played on it for them. Rather
surprised at the extraordinary powers of this family of musicians, I
asked what sort of an instrument it was, when she described it as
follows: "Gentlemen, my instrument is large, longer than broad, and
stands on four legs, like a table. At one end is a crooked handle, by
turning which round, either fast or slow, I do assure you we make most
excellent music." The lips of my young friends and companions instantly
curled, but a glance from me as instantly recomposed their features.
Telling the fair one that it must be a hand-organ she used, she
laughingly said, "Ah, that is it; it is a hand-organ, but I had forgot
the name, and for the life of me could not recollect it."
The husband had gone out to work, and was in the harbor calking an old
schooner. He dined with me on board the "Ripley," and proved to be also
an excellent fellow. Like his brother-in-law, he had seen much of the
world, having sailed nearly round it; and, although no scholar like him,
too, he was disgusted with it. He held his land on the same footing as
his neighbors, caught Seals without number, lived comfortably and
happily, visited his father-in-law and the scholar, by the aid of his
dogs, of which he kept a great pack, bartered or sold his commodities,
as his relations did, and cared about nothing else in the world.
Whenever the weather was fair, he walked with his dame over the
moss-covered rocks of the neighborhood; and during winter killed
Ptarmigans and Caribous, while his eldest son attended to the traps, and
skinned the animals caught in them. He had the only horse that was to be
found in that part of the country, as well as several cows; but, above
all, he was kind to every one, and every one spoke well of him. The only
disagreeable thing about his plantation or settlement, was a heap of
fifteen hundred carcasses of skinned Seals, which, at the time when we
visited the place, in the month of August, notwithstanding the coolness
of the atmosphere, sent forth a stench that, according to the ideas of
some naturalists, might have sufficed to attract all the Vultures in the
United States.
During our stay at Bras d'Or, the kind-hearted and good Mrs. ---- daily
sent us fresh milk and butter, for which we were denied the pleasure of
making any return.
COD FISHING
Although I had seen, as I thought, abundance of fish along the coasts of
the Floridas, the numbers which I found in Labrador quite astonished me.
Should your surprise while reading the following statements be as great
as mine was while observing the facts related, you will conclude, as I
have often done, that Nature's means of providing small animals for the
use of larger ones, and _vice versa_, are as ample as is the grandeur of
that world which she has so curiously constructed.
The coast of Labrador is visited by European as well as American
fishermen, all of whom are, I believe, entitled to claim portions of
fishing-ground assigned to each nation by mutual understanding. For the
present, however, I shall confine my observations to those of our own
country, who, after all, are probably the most numerous. The citizens of
Boston, and many others of our eastern seaports, are those who chiefly
engage in this department of our commerce. Eastport in Maine sends out
every year a goodly fleet of schooners and "pickaxes" to Labrador, to
procure Cod, Mackerel, Halibut, and sometimes Herring, the latter being
caught in the intermediate space. The vessels from that port, and others
in Maine and Massachusetts, sail as soon as the warmth of spring has
freed the gulf of ice, that is, from the beginning of May to that of
June.
A vessel of one hundred tons or so is provided with a crew of twelve
men, who are equally expert as sailors and fishers, and for every couple
of these hardy tars, a Hampton boat is provided, which is lashed on the
deck, or hung in stays. Their provision is simple, but of good quality,
and it is very seldom that any spirits are allowed, beef, pork and
biscuit with water being all they take with them. The men are supplied
with warm clothing, waterproof oiled jackets and trousers, large boots,
broad-brimmed hats with a round crown, and stout mittens, with a few
shirts. The owner or captain furnishes them with lines, hooks, and nets,
and also provides the bait best adapted to insure success. The hold of
the vessel is filled with casks, of various dimensions, some containing
salt, and others for the oil that may be procured.
The bait generally used at the beginning of the season consists of
mussels salted for the purpose; but as soon as the capelings reach the
coast they are substituted to save expense, and in many instances the
flesh of Gannets and other sea-fowl is employed. The wages of fishermen
vary from sixteen to thirty dollars per month, according to the
qualifications of the individual.
The labor of these men is excessively hard, for, unless on Sunday, their
allowance of rest in the twenty-four hours seldom exceeds three. The
cook is the only person who fares better in this respect, but he must
also assist in curing the fish. He has breakfast, consisting of coffee,
bread, and meat, ready for the captain and the whole crew, by three
o'clock every morning, excepting Sunday. Each person carries with him
his dinner ready cooked, which is commonly eaten on the fishing-grounds.
Thus, at three in the morning, the crew are prepared for their day's
labor, and ready to betake themselves to their boats, each of which has
two oars and lugsails. They all depart at once, and either by rowing or
sailing, reach the banks to which the fishes are known to resort. The
little squadron drop their anchors at short distances from each other,
in a depth of from ten to twenty feet, and the business is immediately
commenced. Each man has two lines, and each stands in one end of the
boat, the middle of which is boarded off, to hold the fish. The baited
lines have been dropped into the water, one on each side of the boat;
their leads have reached the bottom, a fish has taken the hook, and
after giving the line a slight jerk, the fisherman hauls up his prize
with a continued pull, throws the fish athwart a small round bar of iron
placed near his back, which forces open the mouth, while the weight of
the body, however small the fish may be, tears out the hook. The bait is
still good, and over the side the line again goes, to catch another
fish, while that on the left is now drawn up, and the same course
pursued. In this manner, a fisher busily plying at each end, the
operation is continued until the boat is so laden that her gunwale is
brought within a few inches of the surface, when they return to the
vessel in harbor, seldom distant more than eight miles from the banks.
During the greater part of the day the fishermen have kept up a constant
conversation, of which the topics are the pleasure of finding a good
supply of cod, their domestic affairs, the political prospects of the
nation, and other matters similarly connected. Now the repartee of one
elicits a laugh from the other; this passes from man to man, and the
whole flotilla enjoy the joke. The men of one boat strive to outdo those
of the others in hauling up the greatest quantity of fish in a given
time, and this forms another source of merriment. The boats are
generally filled about the same time, and all return together.
Arrived at the vessel, each man employs a pole armed with a bent iron,
resembling the prong of a hay-fork, with which he pierces the fish, and
throws it with a jerk on deck, counting the number thus discharged with
a loud voice. Each cargo is thus safely deposited, and the boats
instantly return to the fishing-ground, when, after anchoring, the men
eat their dinner, and begin anew. There, good reader, with your leave, I
will let them pursue their avocations for a while, as I am anxious that
you should witness what is doing on board the vessel.
The captain, four men, and the cook have, in the course of the morning,
erected long tables fore and aft the main hatchway; they have taken to
the shore most of the salt barrels, and have placed in a row their large
empty casks, to receive the livers. The hold of the vessel is quite
clear, except a corner where is a large heap of salt. And now the men,
having dined precisely at twelve, are ready with their large knives. One
begins with breaking off the head of the fish, a slight pull of the hand
and a gash with the knife, effecting this in a moment. He slits up its
belly, with one hand pushes it aside to his neighbor, then throws
overboard the head, and begins to doctor another. The next man tears out
the entrails, separates the liver, which he throws into a cask, and
casts the rest overboard. A third person dexterously passes his knife
beneath the vertebrae of the fish, separates them from the flesh, heaves
the latter through the hatchway, and the former into the water.
Now, if you will peep into the hold, you will see the last stage of the
process, the salting and packing. Six experienced men generally manage
to head, clean, bone, salt, and pack all the fish caught in the morning
by the return of the boats with fresh cargoes, when all hands set to
work, and clear the deck of the fish. Thus their labors continue till
midnight, when they wash their faces and hands, put on clean clothes,
hang their fishing apparel on the shrouds, and, betaking themselves to
the forecastle, are soon in a sound sleep.
At three the next morning, comes the captain from his berth, rubbing his
eyes, and in a loud voice calling, "All hands, ho!" Stiffened in limb,
and but half awake, the crew quickly appear on the deck. Their fingers
and hands are so cramped and swollen by pulling the lines that it is
difficult for them to straighten even a thumb; but this matters little
at present, for the cook, who had a good nap yesterday, has risen an
hour before them, and prepared their coffee and eatables. Breakfast
despatched, they exchange their clean clothes for the fishing apparel,
and leap into their boats, which had been washed the previous night, and
again the flotilla bounds to the fishing-grounds.
As there may not be less than one hundred schooners or pickaxes in the
harbor, three hundred boats resort to the banks each day, and, as each
boat may procure two thousand Cods per diem, when Saturday night comes
about six hundred thousand fishes have been brought to the harbor. This
having caused some scarcity on the fishing-grounds, and Sunday being
somewhat of an idle day, the captain collects the salt ashore, and sets
sail for some other convenient harbor, which he expects to reach long
before sunset. If the weather be favorable, the men get a good deal of
rest during the voyage, and on Monday things go on as before.
I must not omit to tell you, reader, that, while proceeding from one
harbor to another, the vessel has passed near a rock which is the
breeding-place of myriads of Puffins. She has laid to for an hour or so,
while part of the crew have landed, and collected a store of eggs,
excellent as a substitute for cream, and not less so when hard boiled as
food for the fishing-grounds. I may as well inform you also how these
adventurous fellows distinguish the fresh eggs from the others. They
fill up some large tubs with water, throw in a quantity of eggs, and
allow them to remain a minute or so, when those which come to the
surface are tossed overboard, and even those that manifest any upward
tendency share the same treatment. All that remain at bottom, you may
depend upon it, good reader, are perfectly sound, and not less palatable
than any that you have ever eaten, or that your best guinea fowl has
just dropped in your barn-yard. But let us return to the Codfish.
The fish already procured and salted is taken ashore at the new harbor
by part of the crew, whom the captain has marked as the worst hands at
fishing. There, on the bare rocks, or on elevated scaffolds of
considerable extent, the salted Cod are laid side by side to dry in the
sun. They are turned several times a day, and in the intervals the men
bear a hand on board at clearing and stowing away the daily produce of
the fishing-banks. Towards evening they return to the drying-grounds,
and put up the fish in piles resembling so many hay-stacks, disposing
those towards the top in such a manner that the rain cannot injure them,
and placing a heavy stone on the summit to prevent their being thrown
down should it blow hard during the night. You see, reader, that the
life of a Labrador fisherman is not one of idleness.
The capelings have approached the shores, and in myriads enter every
basin and stream, to deposit their spawn, for now July is arrived. The
Cods follow them as the bloodhound follows his prey, and their compact
masses literally line the shores. The fishermen now adopt another
method; they have brought with them long and deep seines, one end of
which is by means of a line fastened to the shore, while the other is,
in the usual manner, drawn out in a broad sweep, to inclose as great a
space as possible, and hauled on shore by means of a capstan. Some of
the men, in boats, support the corked part of the net, and beat the
water to frighten the fishes within towards the land, while others,
armed with poles, enter the water, hook the fishes, and fling them on
the beach, the net being gradually drawn closer as the number of fish
diminishes. What do you think, reader, as to the number of Cod secured
in this manner in a single haul? Thirty, or thirty thousand? You may
form some notion of the matter when I tell you that the young gentlemen
of my party, while going along the shores, caught Codfish alive with
their hands, and trout of many pounds' weight with a piece of twine and
a mackerel-hook hung to their gun-rods; and that, if two of them walked
knee-deep along the rocks, holding a handkerchief by the corners, they
swept it full of capelings. Should you not trust me in this, I refer you
to the fishermen themselves, or recommend you to go to Labrador, where
you will give credit to the testimony of your eyes.
The seining of the Codfish, I believe, is not _quite_ lawful, for a
great proportion of the codlings which are dragged ashore at last are so
small as to be considered useless; and, instead of being returned to the
water, as they ought to be, are left on the shore, where they are
ultimately eaten by Bears, Wolves, and Ravens. The fish taken along the
coast, or on fishing stations only a few miles off, are of small
dimensions; and I believe I am correct in saying that few of them weigh
more than two pounds when perfectly cured, or exceed six when taken out
of the water. The fish are liable to several diseases, and at times are
annoyed by parasitic animals, which in a short time render them lean and
unfit for use.
Some individuals, from laziness or other causes, fish with naked hooks,
and thus frequently wound the Cod, without securing them; in consequence
of which the shoals are driven away, to the detriment of the other
fishers. Some carry their cargoes to other parts before drying them,
while others dispose of them to agents from distant shores. Some have
only a pickaxe of fifty tons, while others are owners of seven or eight
vessels of equal or larger burden; but whatever be their means, should
the season prove favorable, they are generally well repaid for their
labor. I have known instances of men who, on their first voyage, ranked
as "boys," and in ten years after were in independent circumstances,
although they still continue to resort to the fishing; for, said they to
me, "How could we be content to spend our time in idleness at home?" I
know a person of this class who has carried on the trade for many years,
and who has quite a little fleet of schooners, one of which, the largest
and most beautifully built, has a cabin as neat and comfortable as any
that I have ever seen in a vessel of the same size. This vessel took
fish on board only when perfectly cured, or acted as pilot to the rest,
and now and then would return home with an ample supply of halibut, or a
cargo of prime mackerel. On another occasion, I will offer some remarks
on the improvements which I think might be made in the Cod-fisheries of
the coast of Labrador.
A BALL IN NEWFOUNDLAND
On our return from the singularly wild and interesting country of
Labrador, the "Ripley" sailed close along the northern coast of
Newfoundland. The weather was mild and clear, and, while my young
companions amused themselves on the deck with the music of various
instruments, I gazed on the romantic scenery spread along the bold and
often magnificent shores. Portions of the wilds appeared covered with a
luxuriance of vegetable growth, far surpassing that of the regions which
we had just left, and in some of the valleys I thought I saw trees of
moderate size. The number of habitations increased apace, and many small
vessels and boats danced on the waves of the coves which we passed. Here
a precipitous shore looked like the section of a great mountain, of
which the lost half had sunk into the depths of the sea, and the dashing
of the waters along its base was such as to alarm the most daring
seaman. The huge masses of broken rock impressed my mind with awe and
reverence, as I thought of the power that still gave support to the
gigantic fragments which everywhere hung, as if by magic, over the sea,
awaiting, as it were, the proper moment to fall upon and crush the
impious crew of some piratical vessel. There, again, gently swelling
hills reared their heads towards the sky, as if desirous of existing
within the influence of its azure purity; and I thought the bleatings of
Reindeer came on my ear. Dark clouds of Curlews were seen winging their
way towards the south, and thousands of Larks and Warblers were flitting
through the air. The sight of these birds excited in me a wish that I
also had wings to fly back to my country and friends.
Early one morning our vessel doubled the northern cape of the Bay of St.
George, and, as the wind was light, the sight of that magnificent
expanse of water, which extends inward to the length of eighteen
leagues, with a breadth of thirteen, gladdened the hearts of all on
board. A long range of bold shores bordered it on one side, throwing a
deep shadow over the water, which added greatly to the beauty of the
scene. On the other side, the mild beams of the autumnal sun glittered
on the water, and whitened the sails of the little barks that were
sailing to and fro, like so many silvery Gulls. The welcome sight of
cattle feeding in cultivated meadows, and of people at their avocations,
consoled us for the labors which we had undergone, and the privations
which we had suffered; and, as the "Ripley" steered her course into a
snug harbor that suddenly opened to our view, the number of vessels that
were anchored there, and a pretty village that presented itself
increased our delight.
Although the sun was fast approaching the western horizon when our
anchor was dropped, no sooner were the sails furled than we all went
ashore. There appeared a kind of curious bustle among the people, as if
they were anxious to know who we were; for our appearance, and that of
our warlike looking schooner showed that we were not fishermen. As we
bore our usual arms and hunting accoutrements, which were half Indian
and half civilized, the individuals we met on shore manifested
considerable suspicion, which our captain observing, he instantly made a
signal, when the star-spangled banner glided to the mast-head, and
saluted the flags of France and Britain in kindly greeting. We were
welcomed and supplied with abundance of fresh provisions. Glad at once
more standing on something like soil, we passed through the village, and
walked round it, but as night was falling were quickly obliged to return
to our floating home, where, after a hearty supper, we serenaded with
repeated glees the peaceful inhabitants of the village.
At early dawn I was on deck admiring the scene of industry that
presented itself. The harbor was already covered with fishing-boats
employed in procuring mackerel, some of which we appropriated to
ourselves. Signs of cultivation were observed on the slopes of the
hills, the trees seemed of goodly size, a river made its way between two
ranges of steep rocks, and here and there a group of Micmac Indians were
searching along the shores for lobsters, crabs, and eels, all of which
we found abundant and delicious. A canoe laden with Reindeer meat came
alongside, paddled by a pair of athletic Indians, who exchanged their
cargo for some of our stores. You would have been amused to see the
manner in which these men, and their families on shore cooked the
lobsters; they threw them alive into a great wood fire, and as soon as
they were broiled devoured them, while yet so hot that none of us could
have touched them. When properly cooled, I tasted these roasted
lobsters, and found them infinitely better flavored than boiled ones.
The country was represented as abounding in game. The temperature was
higher by twenty degrees than that of Labrador, and yet I was told that
the ice in the bay seldom broke up before the middle of May, and that
few vessels attempted to go to Labrador before the 10th of June, when
the cod-fishery at once commences.
One afternoon we were visited by a deputation from the inhabitants of
the village, inviting our whole party to a ball which was to take place
that night, and requesting us to take with us our musical instruments.
We unanimously accepted the invitation, which had been made from
friendly feelings; and finding that the deputies had a relish for "old
Jamaica" we helped them pretty freely to some, which soon showed that it
had lost nothing of its energies by having visited Labrador. At ten
o'clock, the appointed hour, we landed, and were lighted to the
dancing-hall by paper lanterns, one of us carrying a flute, another a
violin, and I with a flageolet stuck into my waistcoat pocket.
The hall proved nothing else than the ground-floor of a fisherman's
house. We were presented to his wife, who, like her neighbors, was an
adept in the piscatory art. She courtesied, not _a la_ Taglioni, it is
true, but with a modest assurance, which to me was quite as pleasing as
the airiness with which the admired performer just mentioned might have
paid her respects. The good woman was rather unprepared, and quite _en
negligee_, as was the apartment, but full of activity, and anxious to
arrange things in becoming style. In one hand she held a bunch of
candles, in the other a lighted torch, and distributing the former at
proper intervals along the walls, she applied the latter to them in
succession. This done, she emptied the contents of a large tin vessel
into a number of glasses, which were placed on a tea-tray on the only
table in the room. The chimney, black and capacious, was embellished
with coffee-pots, milk-jugs, cups and saucers, knives and forks, and all
the paraphernalia necessary on so important an occasion. A set of
primitive wooden stools and benches was placed around, for the reception
of the belles of the village, some of whom now dropped in, flourishing
in all the rosy fatness produced by an invigorating northern climate,
and in decoration vying with the noblest Indian queen of the West. Their
stays seemed ready to burst open, and their shoes were equally pressed.
Around their necks, brilliant beads mingled with ebony tresses, and
their naked arms might have inspired apprehension had they not been
constantly employed in arranging flowing ribbons, gaudy flowers, and
muslin flounces.
Now arrived one of the beaux, just returned from the fishing, who,
knowing all, and being equally known, leaped without ceremony on the
loose boards that formed a kind of loft overhead, where he soon
exchanged his dripping apparel for a dress suited to the occasion, when
he dropped upon the floor, and strutting up and down, bowed and scraped
to the ladies, with as much ease, if not elegance, as a Bond Street
highly scented exquisite. Others came in by degrees, ready dressed, and
music was called for. My son, by way of overture, played "Hail Columbia,
happy land," then went on with "La Marseillaise," and ended with "God
save the King." Being merely a spectator, I ensconced myself in a
corner, by the side of an old European gentleman, whom I found an
agreeable and well informed companion, to admire the decorum of the
motley assemblage.