_RESULTS OF THE FIRST VISIT_
November, 1892, saw the _Albert_ once more in St. Johns Harbour,
after having spent seventy-eight days on the coast. She had visited
many harbours, treated 900 patients, distributed much clothing and
literature, and collected much valuable information; while Mr. Adolph
Neilsen, superintendent of Newfoundland fisheries, who had joined the
_Albert_ during the greater part of her cruise, had been carrying on
scientific observations calculated to directly benefit the fishing
industry. Daily services had been held, at which thousands in all
had been present, and not a few had confessed openly aboard their
intention, by God’s help, to live new lives.
On arriving in a new harbour, our large blue flag, now known along
the whole coast as the herald of good things, had always proved
a sufficient call to prayers. We found no need for adventitious
attractions; where opportunities are so few, we found men and women
only too glad to come and join in simple praise to God for mercies
past, and prayer for the unknown future before them. Here the
uncertainty of things seen, renders things unseen more real, while
the impotence of man being so evident, makes the power of his Maker
more intensely felt, and the anxiety to be ever ready to meet Him more
deeply earnest. Even the sceptic has acknowledged it means something,
this “coming to Christ” of the fisherman. His faith, unburdened by
“higher criticisms,” or convenient interpretations, sees in his
Master’s words a call to follow Him, on earth as well as in heaven.
Often I have watched men tremble and hesitate, time after time, when
God’s Spirit seems striving with them, before the final step is taken.
For they count well the cost beforehand, and realize fully the weakness
of their own natures. But once “over the line” means _following_ Christ
to them—means coming out, being separate, marked men. The world sets
for them no higher standard than they set for themselves, and their
self-sacrificing fidelity to their ideal has stirred the heart of more
than one Christian worker. There is little half-and-half following,
little “coasting” for fear of “launching out,” such as saps to-day the
joy and rejoicing of thousands of professed Christians. A fisherman
knows if he has “tacked ship,” and is on the Lord’s side, or on the
other side. Often they say, “I should like to be”; almost never, “I
hope I am.”
For visiting places inaccessible to the ship, from the fact that they
lay among dangerous rocks, or up narrow creeks, or because they only
offered shelter to small boats, we had taken with us a twenty-five
foot whale-boat, the _Alfred_, which we rigged with two lug-sails
and a jib. In this we made many journeys. Once we capsized her; once
lost our way in the fog, and had a nasty half-hour, with wind rising,
and fearing we were making out to sea as we ran before it, till the
thunder of the surf warned us of the land, and the bottom of towering
cliffs, white with Atlantic breakers, broke suddenly into view. We
had to abandon the boat that night, and walk home over the hills; but
we managed to fetch her home, close-reefed under shelter of the back
of the islands, next day. It so happened that where we landed two
or three couples wanted marrying. No chance had offered for several
years, so one couple determined at once to return to the ship with us
for that ceremony, as we had at the time a visiting minister on board.
It was late at night before we got there, but we decided (1) any hour
was better than none, and (2) that in a lonely harbour, on a solitary
ship (and as they already had three children), “pronouncing the banns
might be dispensed with.” So we adjourned to the cabin, and proceeded
to business at once. The skipper was best man and I was witness,
while the steward and crew, who had previously decorated the cabin
with bunting, together with one or two Livyeres from the creek, were
congregation. After all was over, hard biscuits and tea were served,
in lieu of a wedding breakfast, while the occasion was honoured from
a few old fowling-pieces and by a couple of dynamite distress rockets
on the _Albert’s_ deck. Altogether, we visited in the _Alfred_ and the
_Albert_ some thirty-five harbours, exertions which so told on the
_Alfred’s_ constitution that now she is taking her last rest at Great
Yarmouth.
Our dingey also upset in Domino Run, when endeavouring to get ashore;
an accident which proved nearly fatal to the ship’s carpenter, for he
happened to come up under the sail, and was unable to swim. Happily it
only ended in an undignified rescue. A more serious accident happened
to the _Albert’s_ winch, for in Winsor Harbour, while letting go
the anchor, a catch got wrong and stripped off all the teeth of the
cog-wheels. After this we were unable to get our anchor in, except with
the help of a great many men, for it was impossible to replace the
cog-wheel on the Labrador. It was quite a sight on leaving harbours to
see often fifty men, who had come off voluntarily, “walking in” the
anchor by means of a system of pulleys, each as he came to the stern of
the ship trotting back to catch hold of the rope again near the bow,
a continuous chain of men being thus maintained, and all singing,
as they pulled, one of the old shanty songs to assist them to pull
together. The names of the harbours we entered were, if old Eskimo
names, long and unpronounceable, such as Nukasasuktok; if French, often
almost unrecognisable, thus Cape d’Espoir has become Cape Despair; if
English, often descriptive of some incident, such as Run-by-Guess,
Seldom-Come-By, Ice Tickle, Cutthroat Island, Split-Knife Harbour,
Bakeapple Bight, Tumbledown Dick Island, and so on.
[Illustration: Moravian Station, Hopedale.]
When visiting up the bays our chief enemies were always the mosquitos.
These are a very real scourge, for, like the black fly and sand fly,
which also exist in myriads, they bite very severely, and we found them
at times so thick that it was difficult to breathe without inhaling
them. Even the “Livyeres” seldom, if ever, get accustomed to them,
while it is at times impossible to send Newfoundland crews up inlets
for firewood.
Our medical cases had included many and various ailments, especially of
the eye, the lungs, and the skin. Many teeth, of course, had called for
attention; and the forceps had on more occasions than one been the way
to a man’s heart. If you do not believe this, try a week’s toothache at
sea without remedies.
Among many interesting cases was that of one poor fellow, who fourteen
days previously had accidentally shot off both his arms below the
elbows. Since that time he had lain on his back, with nothing but
an oily rag over the wounds. As we went into his hut he held up the
raw stumps piteously, from which, in each case, some inches of bare
bone protruded. What could be done was done to relieve his agony, but
the poor fellow died of exhaustion after an operation on the stumps.
The night we were leaving that harbour it was dark and blowing as I
clambered out over the rocks, to signal for the ship’s boat about
10 p.m. There I found waiting for me the poor man’s wife, who, in a
flood of tears, gratefully wrung my hands, till I too felt a choking
sensation about the throat. There was something so real in her sorrow,
now left still more lonely on that lonely coast.
One day a silver-haired old fisherman came aboard for advice. “All
my three sons died this summer from diphtheria, sir,” he told me. “I
buried them all the same week. My eldest was nineteen, and he lasted
out the fever; but he couldn’t swallow, and I did not know how to
feed him.” “What did you do?” “Well, I tied a split herring round his
throat—some say that is good—but he starved to death before my eyes.
It is hard for us now to get along, with no one to help me tend the
nets. You see I’m not so young now as I was.”
One poor woman, with a tumour of the leg, one day sent for “the mission
doctor.” She couldn’t walk for it, she said, and life had become a
burden. We told her, “An operation will make you quite well, and we can
put you to sleep while it is done.” She would not take chloroform,
however, and so we thought all was over. Next morning another message
summoned me to the cottage, where I found five strong men waiting.
“These men have promised to hold me, doctor, while you take that away.
But I may bawl, mayn’t I?” In quarter of an hour all was completed, and
my plucky patient was laughing loudest at the queer scene; for bawl
she had, indeed, “to keep me from thinking of it,” she said. But the
men held on well, and in ten days she was all healed, and was up and
walking.
Among our most interesting visits had been that to Hopedale, the most
southern station of the Moravian missionaries; but I must leave to a
later chapter a description of the Eskimo, of whom we saw a good deal.
There were three Moravians and their wives here, the oldest having
lived in Labrador twenty-seven years. Once a year they communicate with
England by the good ship _Harmony_, which, with its predecessors, has
been visiting the coast for one hundred and twenty years. These men are
true followers of the Saviour in the self-sacrificing spirit, which
draws them to live their lives out on so barren and deserted a coast.
At seven years old their children leave them for ever, to be educated
in Germany, and then find an occupation in life. In one harbour, Zoar,
was a lonely missionary and his wife, who had just sent home their
eighth and last child, a little girl of seven years. “Can you not bring
me a baby from England? we are so lonely now,” said the good man’s
wife to me. Even to get a wife they must write home, and one is chosen
by lot for them. After our visit, they wrote as follows:—
HOPEDALE, LABRADOR,
_September 7th_.
_To the Council of the Mission to Deep Sea Fishermen._
GENTLEMEN,—On behalf of the Moravian Mission here I would ask you
to accept our warmest thanks for sending your ship, the _Albert_, to
visit us and our people, cut off as we are for so many months in the
year from the rest of the world. We feel by its visit that we are
within your thoughts. For the comfort we have found in having our
hands spiritually strengthened by the presence of other Christian
men; for what benefit we have received from medical attendance in our
Mission house and in our congregation; for the kind gift of books for
our library, and for the blessing we had in joining these meetings
kept, and for the pleasure we have had in meeting all those we met
from the _Albert_, we beg you to accept our most hearty thanks. May
our Lord and Saviour bless your work everywhere, as He has done it
here among the fishermen and at our Station.
With kind and brotherly love, we remain your brethren in Christ,
P. M. HANSEN,
_Moravian Missionary_.
In Hopedale Harbour we stayed many days, for hundreds of vessels kept
calling in on their way south; for winter was then approaching, and
already cod-trap boats going to their nets had had to cut through two
inches of new ice.
On our arrival in St. Johns it was thought advisable to report the
results and deductions from this experimental voyage. Accordingly his
Excellency the Governor, Sir Terence O’Brien, invited the leading
citizens acquainted with the fishery to meet at Government House. The
report showed that (1) much needless suffering, limbs and special
functions, besides life itself, were to be saved by the possibility
of obtaining skilled assistance in the first instance; the famous
sealing master, Captain Sam Blandford, who was present, stating that
while he had charge of the mail steamer plying on the coast, seventeen
unfortunate people had died aboard without possibility of proper
treatment. (2) That even that year twenty-nine persons had died at one
harbour in Labrador of diphtheria without being able to get a doctor’s
help—nay, more, no one would take their fish or visit them to trade a
winter’s supply. (3) That the doctor on the small mail steamer was so
short a time in each harbour, and the time of his arrival so uncertain,
that the people had little confidence in the few moments possible to
devote to each case, even if they were fortunate enough to see the
doctor at all, while it was impossible to undertake any serious case
with success. (4) That poverty and starvation directly result from
sickness or accident to the breadwinner being left untreated. After
the report the following proposition was moved by the Hon. A. Harvey,
and supported by Sir Wm. Whiteway, premier, and Sir Robert Thorborne,
ex-premier, which was carried unanimously:—
“_Resolved_—That this meeting, representing the principal merchants
and traders carrying on the fisheries, especially on the coast of
Labrador, and others interested in the welfare of this colony, desires
to tender its warmest thanks to the directors of the Deep Sea Mission
for their philanthropic generosity in sending their Hospital ship
_Albert_ to visit the fishing settlements on the Labrador coast....
“Much of our fishing industry is carried on in regions beyond the
ordinary reach of medical aid or of charity, and it is with the
deepest sense of gratitude that this meeting learns of the amount of
medical and surgical work done, besides all the other relief and help
so liberally distributed. This meeting also desires to express the
hope that the directors of the Mission may see their way to continuing
the work thus begun, and should they do so they may be assured of the
earnest co-operation of all classes of this community.”
His Excellency the Governor then nominated a committee to help to
perpetuate and extend the operations of the Mission in Labrador. One
merchant present, Mr. W. Baine Grieve, presented to the Mission a house
at Battle Harbour for the first hospital.
The _Albert_ soon after left for England. She reached Yarmouth on
December 1st, where she received a hearty reception from the many
friends of the work.
In the report of the Chamber of Commerce of Newfoundland the following
reference to the work was included:—
“A new feature worthy of mention in this report, affecting as it does,
more or less, the comfort of 20,000 or 30,000 of our people, was the
appearance on the Labrador coast of the Mission to Deep Sea Fishermen
ship _Albert_, outfitted by a philanthropic society in England,
non-sectarian in its lines, and intended to afford skilled medical
aid to, and provide to some extent for the mental and material wants
of our fishermen. This essay has been an unqualified success, and has
evoked from the recipients of its bounty expressions of deep gratitude,
while at the same time it has engendered in the breasts of all who
are interested in the welfare and prosperity of the Colony feelings
that must strengthen the bonds which bind this comparatively neglected
dependency to the Mother Country. The vivid portraiture, by the doctor
in charge, of his own personal experiences on the coast is likely to
result in well-organized co-operation by the Colony next season upon
the lines on which the Mission ship is being worked.”
And in February, 1893, the following resolution was received from the
St. Johns Committee:—
“That this representative Committee will undertake to provide two
suitable buildings which may be used as hospitals by the Mission to
Deep Sea Fishermen, should the Council of the Mission signify their
intention to continue their operations on the coast of Labrador, and
the Committee will heartily co-operate in any other way that the
Council of the Society may suggest.
“That a copy of the foregoing resolution be forwarded to Dr. Grenfell
for the information of the Society.
“(Signed) {T. O’BRIEN, Governor, _Chairman_.
{M. MONROE, _Secretary_.”
The council of the Mission replied that they were prepared to fit out a
second expedition, and to undertake the working of the two hospitals.
During the rest of February, March, and April the captain of the
_Albert_ and myself held meetings in various towns, in the endeavour
to raise money to carry on the work. Meanwhile we sent out directions
for the fitting up of the house given by Mr. Baine Grieve at Battle
Harbour, and also plans for a wooden hospital, to be built in sections
in St. Johns, for transference to Indian Harbour, at the entrance to
Eskimo Bay, one hundred and eighty miles further north.
In April an earnest appeal was made for money to obtain a steam launch,
to assist the _Albert_, by visiting otherwise inaccessible places,
and by towing her in and out of narrow harbours. At the same time
preparations were being pushed ahead at Yarmouth. The _Albert_ was once
more recalled from her work in the North Sea. She was victualled for
six months, refitted as far as necessary, and stored with the clothing,
woollens, and literature which had been in the process of collection
all winter. A crew was shipped, and by the 1st of May she was all ready
to sail. Our whaler had been knocked to pieces last year, and we had to
get a new boat to replace it, or trust still to the money coming in for
a steam launch.
Arrangements had been made for the _Albert_ to visit one or two English
seaports on her journey out, in order to solicit further help, amongst
others Exeter, Swansea, and Bristol, whence she was to sail direct to
St. Johns. Still the money had not come in. While, however, we were at
Bristol, our boat still unbought, the joyful news reached us, “Money
necessary for a launch has now come in.” The _Albert_ touched last of
all at Swansea, where a suitable rowing boat, the _Mary Grenfell_, was
presented to her. In Chester we found the most suitable launch for the
money we had—an oak-built, copper-fastened boat, with simple 9-inch
engine, six years of age, though only little work had been done in her.
She was forty-five feet long. Her great defect was her width, which
was only eight feet, so that, being carvel-built, she would roll most
dreadfully. However, while the _Albert_ sailed across to Queenstown we
fitted out the launch at a total cost of £325, and arranged to ship
it direct by Allan line steamer _Corean_ to St. Johns. On June 1st I
joined the _Albert_ at Queenstown, and next morning we set sail for
Newfoundland.
The hospital committee had meanwhile appointed A. O. Bobardt, M.B.,
M.R.C.S., of Melbourne, Australia, and King’s Hospital, and Eliot
Curwen, M.B., B.A., of Cambridge and the London Hospital, as medical
missionaries for the two hospitals. These sailed with us in the
_Albert_. They had also appointed Miss Cecilia Williams and Miss Ada
Carwardine to act as matrons and nurses under the doctors, and had
arranged for them to sail by the same steamer as the launch. We had
three dirty days on the way out, and once were at close quarters with a
large iceberg, but the _Albert_ again quitted herself well, and on our
arrival in St. Johns we again experienced the greatest of kindness. Our
committee had collected some fifteen hundred dollars. A meeting was at
once called, and a small executive of two members were appointed for
each hospital, the Hon. M. Monroe acting for Battle Harbour and Mr. W.
C. Job for Indian Harbour.
On the arrival of the launch she was at once put into order for
starting, while the nurses joined the _Albert_, as the best way to
reach their respective stations. Meanwhile the Indian Harbour hospital
was sent on by steamer to Labrador. But a pleasing function yet
remained to be done—the christening of the new launch. A telegram had
reached us that the Princess May, who had long been interested in the
Mission to Deep Sea Fishermen, had consented to allow it to be named
after her. Accordingly on May 6th, amidst much rejoicing and display
of bunting, Her Excellency Lady O’Brien christened our launch the
_Princess May_.
[Illustration: The _Princess May_ in Hamilton Inlet.]