THE COOPERATIVE MOVEMENT
Being a professional and not a business man, and having no
acquaintance with the ways of trade, the importance of a new economic
system as one of the most permanent messages of helpfulness to the
coast was not at first obvious to me. But the ubiquitous barter
system, which always left the poor men the worst end of the bargain,
is as subtle a danger as can face a community--subtle because it
impoverishes and enslaves the victims, and then makes them love their
chains.
As a magistrate I once heard a case where a poor man paid one hundred
dollars in cash to his trader in the fall to get him a new net. The
trader could not procure the twine, and when spring arrived the man
came to get on credit his usual advance of "tings." From the bill for
these the trader deducted the hundred dollars cash, upon which the man
actually came to me as a justice of the peace to have him punished!
Lord Strathcona told me that in his day on this coast, when a man had
made so good a hunt that he had purchased all he could think of, he
would go round to the store again asking how much money was still due
him. He would then take up purchases to exceed it by a moderate
margin, saying that he liked to keep his name on the Company's books.
In those days the people felt that they had the best part of the
bargain if they were always a little in debt. The tendency to thrift
was thus annihilated. The fishermen simply turned in all their catch
to the merchant, and took what was coming to them as a matter of
course. Many even were afraid to ask for certain supplies. This fact
often became evident when we were trying to order special diets--the
patient would reply, "Our trader won't give out that." Naturally the
whole system horrified us, as being the nearest possible approach to
English slavery, for the poor man was in constant fear that the
merchant "will turn me off." On the other hand, the traders took
precautions that their "dealers" should not be able to leave them,
such as not selling them traps outright for furring, or nets for
fishing, but only loaning them, and having them periodically returned.
This method insured their securing all the fur caught, because legally
a share of the catch belonged to them in return for the loan of the
trap. They thus completely minimized the chance for competition, which
is "the life of trade."
Soon after my arrival on the coast I saw the old Hudson Bay Company's
plan of paying in bone counters of various colours; and a large lumber
company paying its wages in tin money, stamped "Only valuable at our
store." If, to counteract this handicap, the men sold fish or fur for
cash to outsiders, and their suppliers found it out, they would punish
them severely.
On another occasion, sitting by me on a gunning point where we were
shooting ducks as they flew by on their fall migration, was a friend
who had given me much help in building one of our hospitals. I
suddenly noticed that he did not fire at a wonderful flock of eiders
which went right over our heads. "What's the matter, Jim?" I asked. "I
settled with the merchant to-day," he replied, "and he won't give me
nothing for powder. A duck or two won't matter. 'Tis the children I'm
minding." The fishery had been poor, and not having enough to meet his
advances, he had sold a few quintals of fish for cash, so as to get
things like milk which he would not be allowed on winter credit, and
had been caught doing so. He was a grown man and the father of four
children. We went to his trader to find out how much he was in debt.
The man's account on the books was shown us, and it read over three
thousand dollars against our friend. It had been carried on for many
years. A year or two later when the merchant himself went bankrupt
with a debt of $686,000 to the bank of which he was a director, the
people of that village, some four hundred and eleven souls in all,
owed his firm $64,000, an asset returned as value nil. The whole thing
seemed a nightmare to any one who cared about these people.
In Labrador no cereals are grown and the summer frosts make potato and
turnip crops precarious, so that the tops of the latter are
practically all the green food to which we can aspire--except for the
few families who remain at the heads of the long bays all summer, far
removed from the polar current. Furthermore, until some one invents a
way to extract the fishy taste from our fish oils, we must import our
edible fats; for the Labrador dogs will not permit cows or even goats
to live near them. I have heard only this week that a process has just
been discovered in California for making a pleasant tasting butter out
of fish oil. Our "sweetness" must all be imported, for none of our
native berries are naturally sweet, and we can grow no cultivated
fruits. The same fact applies to cotton and wool. Thus nearly all our
necessities of life have to be brought to us. Firewood, lumber, fish
and game, boots or clothing of skins, are all that we can provide for
ourselves. On the other hand, we must export our codfish, salmon,
trout, whales, oil, fur, and in fact practically all our products. An
exchange medium is therefore imperative; and we must have some gauge
like cash by which to measure, or else we shall lose on all
transactions; for all the prices of both exports and imports fluctuate
very rapidly, and besides this, we had then practically no way to find
out what prices were maintaining in our markets.
Government relief had failed to stop the evils of the barter system.
In the opinion of thinking men it only made matters worse. We were
therefore from every point of view encouraged to start the cooperative
plan which had proved so successful in England. I still believe that
the people are honest, and that the laziness of indolence, from the
stigma of which it is often impossible to clear them, is due to
despair and inability to work properly owing to imperfect nourishment.
Things went from bad to worse as the years went by. The fact of the
sealing steamers killing the young seals before they could swim
greatly impoverished the Labrador inshore seal fishery. The prices of
fish were so low that a man could scarcely catch enough to pay for his
summer expenses out of it.
With us the matter came to a head in a little fishing village called
Red Bay, on the north side of the Straits of Belle Isle. When we ran
in there on our last visit one fall, we found some of our good friends
packed up and waiting on their stages to see if we would remove them
from the coast. A meeting was called that night to consider the
problem, and it was decided that the people must try to be their own
merchants, accepting the risks and sharing the profits. The
fisherman's and trapper's life is a gamble, and naturally, therefore,
they like credit advances, for it makes the other man carry the risks.
We then and there decided, however, to venture a cooperative store,
hiring a schooner to bring our freight and carry our produce straight
to market; and if necessary eat grass for a year or so. Alas, after
a year's saving the seventeen families could raise only eighty-five
dollars among them for capital, and we had to loan them sufficient to
obtain the first cargo. A young fisherman was chosen as secretary, and
the store worked well from the beginning. That was in 1905. He is
still secretary, and to-day in 1918 the five-dollar shares are worth
one hundred and four dollars each, by the simple process of
accumulation of profits. The loan has been repaid years ago. Not a
barrow load of fish leaves the harbour except through the cooperative
store. Due to it, the people have been able to tide over a series of
bad fisheries; and every family is free of debt.
[Illustration: THE FIRST COOPERATIVE STORE]
At the time of the formation one most significant fact was that every
shareholder insisted that his name must not be registered, for fear
some one might find out that he owned cash. They were even opposed to
a label on the building to signify that it was a store. However, I
chalked all over its face "Red Bay Cooperative Store."
The whole effort met with very severe criticism, not to say hostility,
at the hands of the smaller traders, but the larger merchants were
most generous in their attitude, and though doubtful of the
possibility of realizing a cash basis, were without exception
favourable to the attempt. This store has been an unqualified success,
only limited in its blessings by its lack of larger capital. It has
enabled its members to live independently, free of debt and without
want; while similar villages, both south and east and west, have been
gradually deleted by the people being forced to leave through
inability to meet their needs.
During my first winter at St. Anthony, the young minister of the
little church on more than one occasion happened to be visiting on his
rounds in the very house where we were staying on ours, and the
subject of cooperation was frequently discussed over the evening pipe
with the friends in the place. He had himself been trading, and had so
disliked the methods that he had retired. He would certainly help us
to organize a store on the Newfoundland side of the Straits.
At last the day arrived for the initial meeting. We gave notice
everywhere. The chosen rendezvous was in a village fourteen miles
north. The evening before, however, the minister sent word that he
could not be present, as he had to go to a place twenty miles to the
northwest to hold service. Knowing for how much his opinion counted in
the minds of some of the people, this was a heavy blow, especially as
the traders had notified me that they would all be on hand.
Fortunately an ingenious suggestion was made--"He doesn't know the
way. Persuade his driver, after starting out, to gradually work round
and end up at the cooperative meeting." This was actually done, and
our friend was present willy-nilly. He proved a broken reed, however,
for in the face of the traders he went back on cooperation.
As fortune would have it, our own komatik fell through the ice in
taking a short cut across a bay, and we arrived late, having had to
borrow some dry clothing from a fisherman on the way. Our trader
friends had already appeared on the scene, and were joking the parson
for being tricked, saying that evidently we had made a mistake and
were really at Cape Norman, the place to which he had intended to go.
It was a dark evening, crisp and cold, and hundreds of dogs that had
hauled people from all over the countryside to the meeting made night
dismal outside. We began our meeting with prayer for guidance, wisdom,
and good temper, for we knew that we should need them all--and then
we came down to statistics, prices, debts, possibilities, and the
story of cooperation elsewhere.
The little house was crammed to overflowing. But the fear of the old
regime was heavy on the meeting. The traders occupied the whole time
for speaking. Only one old fisherman spoke at all. He had been an
overseas sailor in his early days, and he surprised himself by turning
orator. His effort elicited great applause. "Doctor--I means Mr.
Chairman--if this here copper store buys a bar'l of flour in St.
John's for five dollars, be it going to sell it to we fer ten? That's
what us wants to know."
Outside, after the meeting, Babel was let loose. The general opinion
was that there must be something to it or the traders would not have
so much to say against the project. The upshot of the matter was that
for a long time no one could be found who would take the managership;
but at length the best-beloved fisherman on the shore stepped into the
breach. He was not a scholar--in fact could scarcely read, write, and
figure--but his pluck, optimism, and unselfishness carried him
through.
That little store has been preaching its vital truths ever since. It is
a still small text, but it has had vast influences for good. There has
proved to be one difficulty. It is the custom on the coast to give all
meals to travellers free, both men and dogs, and lodging to boot.
Customers came from so far away that they had to stay overnight at
least, and of course it was always Harry's house to which they went. The
profit on a twenty-five cent purchase was slender under these
circumstances, and as cash was scarce in those days, a twenty-five-cent
purchase was not so rare as might be supposed. We therefore printed,
mounted, framed, and sent to our friend the legend, "No more free meals.
Each meal will cost ten cents." Later we received a most grateful reply
from him in his merry way, saying that he had hung up the card in his
parlour, but begging us not to defer visits if we had not the requisite
amount, as he was permitted to give credit to that extent. But when next
we suddenly "blew in" to Harry's house, the legend was hanging with its
face to the wall.
Our third store was seventy-five miles to the westward at a place
called Flowers Cove. Here the parson came in with a will. Being a
Church of England man, he was a more permanent resident, and, as he
said, "he was a poor man, but he would sell his extra pair of boots to
be able to put one more share in the store." What was infinitely more
important he put in his brains. Every one in that vicinity who had
felt the slavery of the old system joined the venture. One poor
Irishman walked several miles around the coast to catch me on my next
visit, and secretly give me five dollars. "'Tis all I has in the
world, Doctor, saving a bunch of children, but if it was ten times as
large, you should have every cent of it for the store." "Thanks,
Paddy, that's the talking that tells." For some years afterwards,
every time that he knew I was making a visit to that part of the
coast, he would come around seeking a private interview, and inquire
after the health of "the copper store"; till he triumphantly brought
another five dollars for a second share "out of my profits, Doctor."
That store is now a limited liability company with a capital of ten
thousand dollars owned entirely by the fishermen, it has paid
consistently a ten per cent dividend every year, and is located in
fine premises which it bought and owns outright.
A fourth store followed near the lumber mill which we started to give
winter labour at logging; but owing to bad management and lack of
ability to say "no" to men seeking credit, it fell into debt and we
closed it up. Number five almost shared the same fate. Unable to get
local talent to manage it, we hired a Canadian whose pretensions
proved unequal to his responsibility. He was, however, found out in
time to reorganize the store; but the loss which he had caused was
heavy, and it was his notice of leaving for Canada which alone
betrayed the truth to us. The most serious aspect of the matter was
that many of the local fishermen lost confidence in the ability of the
store to succeed, and returning to the credit system, they found it
modified enough to appear to them a lamb instead of a wolf. However,
number five is growing all the time again and will yet be a factor in
the people's deliverance.
Numbers six and seven were in poor and remote parts of Labrador, very
small, and with insufficient capital and brains. One has closed
permanently. They were simply small stores under the care of one
settler, who guaranteed to charge the people only a fixed percentage
over St. John's prices for goods, as the return for his
responsibility. Number eight was the result of a night spent in a
miserable shack on a lonely promontory called Adlavik.
God forbid that I should judge traders or doctors or lawyers or
priests by their profession or their intellectual attitude. There are
noble men in all walks of life. Alas, some are more liable than others
to yield to temptation, and the temptations to which they are exposed
are more insistent.
Number nine was on the extreme northern edge of the white settlers at
Ford's Harbour. The story of it is too long to relate, but the trade
there, in spite of many difficulties, still continues to preach a
gospel and spell much blessing to poor people. To help out, we have
sent north to this station three of our boys from the orphanage, as
they grew old enough to go out into the world for themselves.
One disaster, in the form of a shipwreck, overtook the fine fellow in
charge of this most northerly venture. For the first time in his life
he came south, to seek a wife, his former wife having succumbed to
tuberculosis. He brought with him his year's products of fur and skin
boots. The mail steamer on which he was travelling struck a rock off
Battle Harbour, and most of his goods were lost uninsured, he himself
gladly enough escaping with his life.
It remained for our tenth venture to bring the hardest battle, and in
a sense the greatest measure of success. Spurred by the benefits of
the Red Bay store, the people of a little village about forty miles
away determined to combine also. The result was a fine store near our
hospital at Battle Harbour--which during the first year did sixty
thousand dollars' worth of business. This served to put a match to the
explosive wrath of those whose opposition hitherto had been that of
rats behind a wainscot. They secured from their friends a Government
commission appointed to inquire into the work of the Mission as "a
menace to honest trade." The leading petitioner had been the best of
helpers to the first venture. When the traders affected by it had
first boycotted the fish, he had sent his steamer and purchased it
from the company. Now the boot was on the other leg. The Commission
and even the lawyers have all told me that they were prejudiced
against the whole Mission by hearsay and misinterpretations, before
they even began their exhaustive inquiry. Their findings, however,
were a complete refutation of all charges, and the best advertisement
possible.
It would not be the time to say that the whole cooperative venture has
been an unqualified success; but the causes of failure in each case
have been perfectly obvious, and no fault of the system. Lack of
business ability has been the main trouble, and the lack of courage
and unity which everywhere characterizes mankind, but is perhaps more
emphasized on a coast where failure means starvation, and where the
cooperative spirit has been rendered very difficult to arouse owing to
mistrust born of religious sectarianism and denominational schools.
These all militate very strongly against that unity which alone can
enable labour to come to its own without productive ability.
There is one aspect for which we are particularly grateful. Politics,
at any rate, has not been permitted to intrude, and the stress laid on
the need of brotherliness, forbearance, and self-development--if ever
these producers are to reap the rewards of being their own
traders--has been very marked. Only thus can they share in the balance
of profit which makes the difference between plenty and poverty on
this isolated coast.