Chapter VI (2)

Great excitement prevails on the coast of Cornwall during the pilchard season. Persons watch the water from the coast and signal to those who are in search of the fish the moment they perceive indications of a shoal. These watchers are locally called “huers,” and they are provided with signals of white calico or branches of trees, with which to direct the course of the boat, and to inform those in charge when they are upon the fish—the shoal being best seen from the cliffs. The pilchards are captured by the seine-net—that is, the shoal, or spot of a shoal, that has risen, is completely surrounded by a wall of netting, the principal boat and its satellites the volyer and the lurker, with the “stop-nets,” having so worked as quite to overlap each other’s wall of canvas. The place where the joining of the two nets is formed is carefully watched, to see that none of the fish escape at that place, and if it be too open, the fish are beaten back with the oars of some of the persons attending—about eighteen in all. In due time the seine is worked or hauled into shallow water for the convenience of getting out the fish, and it may perhaps contain pilchards sufficient to fill two thousand hogsheads. Generally speaking, four or five seines will be at work together, giving employment to a great number of the people, who may have been watching for the chance during many days. When the tide falls the men commence to bring ashore the fish, a tuck-net worked inside of the seine being used for safety; and the large shallow dipper boats required for bringing the fish to the beach may be seen sunk to the water’s edge with their burden, as successive bucketfuls are taken out of the nets and emptied into these conveyance vessels. To give the reader an idea of quantity, as connected with pilchard-fishing, I may state that it takes nearly three thousand fish to fill a hogshead. I have heard of a shoal being captured that took a fortnight to bring ashore. Ten thousand hogsheads of pilchards have been known to be taken in one port in a day’s time. The convenience of keeping the shoal in the water is obvious, as the fish need not be withdrawn from it till it is convenient to salt them. The fish are salted in curing-houses, great quantities of them being piled up into huge stacks, alternate layers of salt and fish. During the process of curing a large quantity of useful oil exudes from the heaps. The salting process is called “bulking,” and the fish are built up into stacks with great regularity, where they are allowed to remain for four weeks, after which they are washed and freed from the oil, then packed into hogsheads, and sent to Spain and Italy, to be extensively consumed during Lent, as well as at other fasting times. The hurry and bustle at any of the little Cornwall ports during the manipulation of a few shoals of pilchards must be seen, the excitement cannot be very well described.

The pilchard is, or rather it ought to be, the _Sardinia_ of commerce, but its place is usurped by the sprat, or garvie as we call it in Scotland, and thousands of tin boxes of that fish are annually made up and sold as sardines. I have already alluded to the sprat, so far as its natural history is concerned. It is a fish that is very abundant in Scotland, especially in the Firth of Forth, where for many years there has been a good sprat-fishery. We do not now require to go to France for our sardines, as we can cure them at home in the French style. The sprat-fishery for sardine-making is still, however, a considerable maritime industry on the coast of France. In 1864 about 75,000 barrels of sprats were taken on the coast of Brittany, besides those sold fresh and the quantities done up in oil as sardines. The process of curing with oil is as follows:—The fish must be well washed in sea-water, after which they are sprinkled with clean salt. The next process is to cut off the heads of the fish, and take away the intestines, etc., after which they are again rinsed in the sea-water, and hung up or laid out to dry in order to beautify. After this they are placed for a very brief period in a pan of boiling oil, which completes the cure. Before being packed in the neat little tin boxes in which we find them, the sardines are laid down on a grating, in order to let the oil drain off—the finishing process being the exposure of the box in a steam-chest for such a period as the curer deems necessary. According to my informant, a thorough cure is effected when the box appears convex on the two sides, only it is necessary that this convexity should disappear as the box becomes cool. Ten millions of boxes are annually sent away from the coast of Brittany, and these are widely distributed, not only in Europe, but in Australia and America as well. I have elsewhere mentioned the use of cod-roe in the French sprat-fishery. The quantity used costs about £80,000 annually, and is brought from Norway. Each boat engaged in the sprat-fishery will use from twelve to twenty barrels! Will not the consumption of such a quantity of roe tell by and by on the cod-fishery?

Sprats, whether they be young herrings or no, are very plentiful in the winter months, and afford a supply of wholesome food of the fish kind to many who are unable to procure more expensive kinds. When the fishing for garvies (sprats) was stopped a few years ago by order of the Board of White Fisheries, there was quite a sensation in Edinburgh; and an agitation was got up that has resulted in a partial resumption of the fishing, which is of considerable value—about £50,000 in the Firth of Forth alone.

Commerce in herring is entirely different from commerce in any other article, particularly in Scotland. In fact the fishery, as at present conducted, is just another way of gambling. The home “curers” and foreign buyers are the persons who at present keep the herring-fishery from stagnating, and the goods (_i.e._ the fish) are generally all bought and sold long before they are captured. The way of dealing in herring is pretty much as follows:—Owners of boats are engaged to fish by curers, the bargains being usually that the curer will take two hundred crans of herring—and a cran, it may be stated, is forty-five gallons of ungutted fish; for these two hundred crans a certain sum per cran is paid according to arrangement, the bargain including as well a definite sum of ready money by way of bounty, perhaps also an allowance of spirits, and the use of ground for the drying of the nets. On the other hand, the boat-owner provides a boat, nets, buoys, and all the apparatus of the fishery, and engages a crew to fish; his crew may, perhaps, be relatives and part-owners sharing the venture with him, but usually the crew consists of hired men who get so much wages at the end of the season, and have no risk or profit. This is the plan followed by free and independent fishermen who are really owners of their own boats and apparatus. It will thus be seen that the curer is bargaining for two hundred crans of fish months before he knows that a single herring will be captured; for the bargain of next season is always made at the close of the present one, and he has to pay out at once a large sum by way of bounty, and provide barrels, salt, and other necessaries for the cure before he knows even if the catch of the season just expiring will all be sold, or how the markets will pulsate next year. On the other hand, the fisherman has received his pay for his season’s fish, and very likely pocketed a sum of from ten to thirty pounds as earnest-money for next year’s work. Then, again, a certain number of curers who are men of capital will advance money to young fishermen in order that they may purchase a boat and the necessary quantity of netting to enable them to engage in the fishery—thus thirling the boat to their service, very probably fixing an advantageous price per cran for the herrings to be fished and supplied. Curers, again, who are not capitalists, have to borrow from the buyers, because to compete with their fellows they must be able to lend money for the purchase of boats and nets, or to advance sums by way of bounty to the free boats; and thus a rotten unwholesome system goes the round—fishermen, boat-builders, curers, and merchants all hanging on each other, and evidencing that there is as much gambling in herring-fishing as in horse-racing. The whole system of commerce connected with this trade is decidedly unhealthy, and ought at once to be checked and reconstructed if there be any logical method of doing it. At a port of three hundred boats a sum of £145 was paid by the curers for “arles,” and spent in the public-houses! More than £4000 was paid in bounties, and an advance of nearly £7000 made on the various contracts, and all this money was paid eight months before the fishing began. When the season is a favourable one and plenty of fish are taken, then all goes well, and the evil day is postponed; but if, as in one or two recent seasons, the take is poor, then there comes a crash. One falls, and, like a row of bricks, the others all follow. At the large fishing stations there are comparatively few of the boats that are thoroughly free: they are tied up in some way between the buyers and curers, or they are in pawn to some merchant who “backs” the nominal owner. The principal, or at least the immediate sufferers by these arrangements are the hired men.

This “bounty,” as it is called, is a most reprehensible feature of herring commerce, and although still the prevalent mode of doing business, has been loudly declaimed against by all who have the real good of the fishermen at heart. Often enough men who have obtained boats and nets on credit, and hired persons to assist them during the fishery, are so unfortunate as not to catch enough of herrings to pay their expenses. The curers for whom they engaged to fish having retained most of the bounty money on account of boats and nets, consequently the hired servants have frequently in such cases to go home—sometimes to a great distance—penniless. It would be much better if the old system of a share were re-introduced: in that case the hired men would at least participate to the extent of the fishing, whether it were good or bad. Boat-owners try of course to get as good terms as possible, as well in the shape of price for herrings as in bounty and perquisites. For an example of an engagement I may cite the case of a Burghhead boat, which bargained for 15s. per cran, 20s. of engaging money (arles), ten gallons of whisky, net-ground, net-driving—_i.e._ from the boat to the ground and back again—and £20 of cash in the shape of a bounty.[9] At some places even larger sums are asked for and obtained—as much as £54 in bounty and perquisites. My idea is that there ought to be no “engagements,” no bounty, and no perquisites. As each fishing comes round let the boats catch, and the curers buy day by day as the fish arrive at the quay. This plan has already been adopted at some fishing-towns, and is an obvious improvement on the prevailing plan of gambling by means of “engagements” in advance.

In fact, this fishery is best described when it is called a lottery. No person knows what the yield will be till the last moment: it may be abundant, or it may be a total failure. Agriculturists are aware long before the reaping season whether their crops are light or heavy, and they arrange accordingly; but if we are to believe the fisherman, his harvest is entirely a matter of “luck.” It is this belief in “luck” which is, in a great degree, the cause of our fisher-folk not keeping pace with the times: they are greatly behind in all matters of progress; our fishing towns look as if they were, so to speak, stereotyped. It is a woeful time for the fisher-folk when the herrings fail them; for this great harvest of the sea, which needs no tillage of the husbandman, the fruits of which are reaped without either sowing seed or paying rent, is the chief industry that the bulk of the coast population depend upon for a good sum of money. The fishing is the bank, in which they have opened, and perhaps exhausted, a cash-credit; for often enough the balance is on the wrong side of the ledger, even after the fishing season has come and gone. In other words, new boats have to be paid for out of the fishing; new clothes, new houses, additional nets, and even weddings, are all dependent on the herring-fishery. It is notable that after a favourable season the weddings among the fishing populations are very numerous. The anxiety for a good season may be noted all along the British coasts, from Newhaven to Yarmouth, or from Crail to Wick.

The highest prices are paid for the early fish, contracts for these in a cured state being sometimes fixed as high as forty-five shillings per barrel. These are at once despatched to Germany, in the inland towns of which a prime salt herring of the early cure is considered a great luxury, fetching sometimes the handsome price of one shilling! Great quantities of cured herrings are sent to Stettin or other German ports, and so eager are some of the merchants for an early supply that in the beginning of the season they purchase quantities unbranded, through the agency of the telegraph. On those parts of the coast where the communication with large towns is easy, considerable quantities of herring are purchased fresh, for transmission to Birmingham, Manchester, and other inland cities. Buyers attend for that purpose, and send them off frequently in an open truck, with only a slight covering to protect them from the sun. It is needless to say that a fresh herring is looked upon as a luxury in such places, and a demand exists that would exhaust any supply that could be sent. During one day in last September what was thought to be a hopeless glut of herrings arrived at Billingsgate; the consignment was so vast as quite to alarm the salesmen of that market; but their fears were groundless, as before noon every herring was sold. From ten to twelve thousand tons of fresh herrings are sent from Dunbar alone, during the season, into inland districts, being distributed by means of the railway, and also by cadgers.

Many of the Scottish herring-curers are men of enterprise and intelligence. The late Mr. Methuen of Leith may be cited as an example of the class: he was of humble parentage, but had the good fortune, by perseverance and industry, to become the greatest herring-curer in the world. He raised his gigantic business on a small foundation, which his father and he laid at Burntisland in Fife. His business grew apace; his yards overflowed into the streets, and his piles of barrels soon blocked up the passages. He gathered knowledge of his business from all who could give it him; and in after years, when his trade had grown to be the greatest of its kind, he found this knowledge of great service to him. He was soon compelled, however, by the extension of his connection, to seek larger head-quarters than he could obtain at Burntisland. In 1833, therefore, he removed to Leith, the seaport of Edinburgh, where he continued to carry on his business till the time of his death. For thirty years he was at the head of the herring-trade in Britain, and was so energetic and reputable in his dealings as really to command success, in which, of course, he was materially aided by his rapidly-increasing capital. He created curing-stations, and so forced business. Wherever he saw an eligible spot, he marked it out as a place to cure in. His business widened and widened, till thousands of the Scottish fishing-boats were ready to obey his behests; and, not contented with what he had achieved in his own country, he invaded England, and commenced stations along the east coast and on the Isle of Man, having some time before established business relations on the coast of Norway. Mr. Methuen took a warm interest in all questions connected with the herring-fishery, and may be said to have carried on business during the period when these fisheries were in their most prosperous condition; in fact, he may be said to have seen the culmination of the trade. He was foremost in action when an attempt was made to abolish the Fishery Board for Scotland. His accurate acquaintance with the trade, and his knowledge of the natural history of the fish, and the precise nature of his statements as to the value of the Board, were the means of converting the Government of his time, so that the Board was maintained in its integrity. Mr. Methuen’s powers of observation were considerable; he once reasoned out by a reference to some old letters the precise spot where a local shoal of herrings was to be found. I have alluded to his plan of gathering knowledge from all with whom he come in contact; he stored up such letters of his agents as contained facts for future use, and often found them of service. At one of his stations in the far North the fishing had been unsuccessful for the greater part of the season, and there was no prospect of improvement, when he gave it his consideration. Looking over his agent’s letters at said place for some years back, he found, by a comparison of dates, that at a certain spot herrings were to be found. He accordingly instructed his agent to send his boats to that spot. The fishermen simply laughed at the idea of an individual sitting some hundreds of miles away and telling _them_ where to get fish. But as his orders were positive, they had to obey, and the consequence was that they returned the next morning loaded with herrings.

Having explained the relation of the curers to the trade, I must now speak of the cure—the greater number of the herrings caught on the coast of Scotland being pickled in salt; a result originally, no doubt, of the want of speedy modes of transit to large seats of population, where herrings would be largely consumed if they could arrive in a sufficiently fresh state to be palatable. At stations about Wick the quantity of herrings disposed of fresh is comparatively small, so that by far the larger portion of the daily catch has to be salted. This process during a good season employs a very large number of persons, chiefly as coopers and gutters; and, as the barrels have to be branded, by way of certificate of the quality of their contents, it is necessary that the salting should be carefully done. As soon as the boats reach the harbour—and as the fishing is appointed to be carried on after sunset they arrive very early in the morning—the various crews commence to carry their fish to the reception-troughs of the curers by whom they have been engaged. A person in the interest of the curer checks the number of crans brought in, and sprinkles the fish from time to time with considerable quantities of salt. As soon as a score or two of baskets have been emptied, the gutters set earnestly to do their portion of the work, which is dirty and disagreeable in the extreme. The gutters usually work in companies of about five—one or two gutting, one or two carrying, and another packing. Basketfuls of the fish, so soon as they are gutted, are carried to the back of the yard, and plunged into a large tub, there to be roused and mixed up with salt; then the adroit and active packer seizes a handful and arranges them with the greatest precision in a barrel, a handful of salt being thrown over each layer as it is put in, so that, in the short space of a few minutes, the large barrel is crammed full with many hundred fish, all gutted, roused, and packed in a period of not more than ten minutes. As the fish settle down in the barrel, more are added from day to day, till it is thoroughly full and ready for the brand. On the proper performance of these parts of the business, the quality of the cured fish very much depends. The late Sir Thomas Dick Lauder, who was at one time secretary to the Fishing Board, published plain instructions for taking and curing herrings; he gives minute directions in all departments, and thus speaks of the important duties of the coopers:—“During the period of the curing, the cooper’s first employment in the morning should be to examine every barrel packed on the previous day, in order to discover if any of them have lost the pickle, so that he may have all such barrels immediately repacked, salted, and pickled.... As already stated, the cooper in charge should see that the gutters are furnished every morning with sharp knives. He should be careful to strew salt among the herrings as they are turned into the gutting-boxes; give a general but strict attention to the gutters, in order to insure that they do their work properly; see that the herrings are properly sorted, and that all the broken and injured fish are removed; and take care that the fish are sufficiently and effectually roused. Then he should see that every barrel is seasoned with water, and the hoops properly driven, before they are given to the packers. He should likewise keep his eyes over the packers, to see that the tiers of herrings are regularly laid and salted, and that a cover is placed on every barrel immediately after it has been completely packed.”

I have a very few words to say about the _brand_: whether or not each barrel of herrings should have stamped upon it a government mark indicative of its quality has been one of the most fertile subjects of controversy in connection with herring commerce. _Now_ the brand—which was devised during the time the British government paid a bounty to the curer as an encouragement to fish for herrings—is voluntary, and has to be paid for, and in time, there can be no doubt, it will be altogether discontinued; and it would have been better perhaps had it never existed, although its continuance has been advocated by many excellent persons on the ground of its service to the fisheries. Other kinds of goods have been able to command a market without the interference of government—such as cotton and other textile fabrics, cheese, etc. Why then could not we sell our herrings on the faith of the curer? Government is not asked to brand our broadcloths, or our blankets, nor yet our steam-engines; and I hope soon to see a total abolition of the brand on our herring-barrels; but although I am an advocate for the total abolition of the brand I wish the present Fishery Board continued: there is ample employment for all the officers of that Board in acting as statisticians and police; we can never obtain sufficient information about the capture and disposal of the fish, the fluctuations of the fishery, etc. etc.

The following detailed description of the “herring-harvest,” as gathered in the Moray Frith, may be of interest to the general reader. It is reprinted, by permission, from a paper contributed by the author to the _Cornhill Magazine_:—

The boats usually start for the fishing-ground an hour or two before sunset, and are generally manned by four men and a boy, in addition to the owner or skipper. The nets, which have been carried inland in the morning, in order that they might be thoroughly dried, have been brought to the boat in a cart or waggon. On board there is a keg of water and a bag of bread or hard biscuit; and in addition to these simple necessaries, our boat contains a bottle of whisky which we have presented by way of paying our footing. The name of our skipper is Francis Sinclair, and a very gallant-looking fellow he is; and as to his dress—why, his boots alone would ensure the success of a Surrey melodrama; and neither Truefit nor Ross could satisfactorily imitate his beard and whiskers. Having got safely on board—a rather difficult matter in a crowded harbour, where the boats are elbowing each other for room—we contrive, with some labour, to work our way out of the narrow-necked harbour into the bay, along with the nine hundred and ninety-nine boats that are to accompany us in our night’s avocation. The heights of Pulteneytown, which command the quays, are covered with spectators admiring the pour-out of the herring fleet and wishing with all their hearts “God speed” to the venturers: old salts who have long retired from active seamanship are counting their “takes” over again; and the curer is mentally reckoning up the morrow’s catch. Janet and Jeanie are smiling a kindly good-bye to “faither,” and hoping for the safe return of Donald or Murdoch; and crowds of people are scattered on the heights, all taking various degrees of interest in the scene, which is stirringly picturesque to the eye of the tourist, and suggestive to the thoughtful observer.

Bounding gaily over the waves, which are crisping and curling their crests under the influence of the land-breeze, our shoulder-of-mutton sail filled with a good capful of wind, we hug the rocky coast, passing the ruined tower known as “the Old Man of Wick,” which serves as a capital landmark for the fleet. Soon the red sun begins to dip into the golden west, burnishing the waves with lustrous crimson and silver, and against the darkening eastern sky the thousand sails of the herring-fleet blaze like sheets of flame. The shore becomes more and more indistinct, and the beetling cliffs assume fantastic and weird shapes, whilst the moaning waters rush into deep cavernous recesses with a wild and monotonous sough, that falls on the ear with a deeper and a deeper melancholy, broken only by the shrill wail of the herring-gull. A dull hot haze settles on the scene, through which the coppery rays of the sun penetrate, powerless to cast a shadow. The scene grows more and more picturesque as the glowing sails of the fleet fade into grey specks dimly seen. Anon the breeze freshens and our boat cleaves the water with redoubled speed: we seem to sail farther and farther into the gloom, until the boundary-line between sea and shore becomes lost to the sight.

We ought to have shot our nets before it became so dark, but our skipper, being anxious to hit upon the right place, so as to save a second shooting, tacked up and down, uncertain where to take up his station. We had studied the movements of certain “wise men” of the fishery—men who are always lucky, and who find out the fish when others fail; but our crew became impatient when they began to smell the water, which had an oily gleam upon it indicative of herring, and sent out from the bows of the boat bright phosphorescent sparkles of light. The men several times thought they were right over the fish, but the skipper knew better. At last, after a lengthened cruise, our commander, who had been silent for half-an-hour, jumped up and called to action. “Up, men, and at ’em,” was then the order of the night. The preparations for shooting the nets at once began by our lowering sail. Surrounding us on all sides was to be seen a moving world of boats; many with their sails down, their nets floating in the water, and their crews at rest, indulging in fitful snatches of sleep. Other boats again were still flitting uneasily about; their skippers, like our own, anxious to shoot in the best place, but as yet uncertain where to cast: they wait till they see indications of fish in other nets. By and by we are ourselves ready, the sinker goes splash into the water, the “dog” (a large bladder, or inflated skin of some kind, to mark the far end of the train) is heaved overboard, and the nets, breadth after breadth, follow as fast as the men can pay them out (each division being marked by a large painted bladder), till the immense train sinks into the water, forming a perforated wall a mile long and many feet in depth; the “dog” and the marking bladders floating and dipping in a long zigzag line, reminding one of the imaginary coils of the great sea-serpent.

Wrapped in the folds of a sail and rocked by the heaving waves we tried in vain to snatch a brief nap, though those who are accustomed to such beds can sleep well enough in a herring-boat. The skipper, too, slept with one eye open; for the boat being his property, and the risk all his, he required to look about him, as the nets are apt to become entangled with those belonging to other fishermen, or to be torn away by surrounding boats. After three hours’ quietude, beneath a beautiful sky, the stars—

“Those eternal orbs that beautify the night”—

began to pale their fires, and the grey dawn appearing indicated that it was time to take stock. On reckoning up we found that we had floated gently with the tide till we were a long distance away from the harbour. The skipper had a presentiment that there were fish in his nets; indeed the bobbing down of a few of the bladders had made it almost a certainty; at any rate we resolved to examine the drift, and see if there were any fish. It was a moment of suspense, while, by means of the swing-rope, the boat was hauled up to the nets. “Hurrah!” at last exclaimed Murdoch of the Isle of Skye, “there’s a lot of fish, skipper, and no mistake.” Murdoch’s news was true; our nets were silvery with herrings—so laden, in fact, that it took a long time to haul them in. It was a beautiful sight to see the shimmering fish as they came up like a sheet of silver from the water, each uttering a weak death-chirp as it was flung to the bottom of the boat. Formerly the fish were left in the meshes of the nets till the boat arrived in the harbour; but now, as the net is hauled on board, they are at once shaken out. As our silvery treasure showers into the boat we roughly guess our capture at fifty crans—a capital night’s work.

The herrings being all on board, our duty is now to “up sail” and get home: the herrings cannot be too soon among the salt. As we make for the harbour, we discern at once how rightly the term lottery has been applied to the herring-fishery. Boats which fished quite near our own were empty; while others again greatly exceeded our catch. “It is entirely chance work,” said our skipper; “and although there may sometimes be millions of fish in the bay, the whole fleet may not divide a hundred crans between them.” On some occasions, however, the shoal is hit so exactly that the fleet may bring into the harbour a quantity of fish that in the gross would be an ample fortune. So heavy are the “takes” occasionally, that we have known the nets of many boats to be torn away and lost through the sheer weight of the fish which were enmeshed in them.

The favouring breeze soon carried us to the quay, where the boats were already arriving in hundreds, and where we were warmly welcomed by the wife of our skipper, who bestowed on us, as the lucky cause of the miraculous draught, a very pleasant smile. When we arrived the cure was going on with startling rapidity. The night had been a golden one for the fishers—calm and beautiful, the water being merely rippled by the land-breeze. But it is not always so in the Bay of Wick: the herring-fleet has been more than once overtaken by a fierce storm, when valuable lives have been lost, and thousands of pounds’ worth of netting and boats destroyed. On such occasions the gladdening sights of the herring-fishery are changed to wailing and sorrow. It is no wonder that the heavens are eagerly scanned as the boats marshal their way out of the harbour, and the speck on the distant horizon keenly watched as it grows into a mass of gloomy clouds. As the song says, “Caller herrin’” represent the lives of men; and many a despairing wife and mother can tell a sad tale of the havoc created by the summer gales on our exposed northern coast.

From the heights of Pulteneytown, overlooking the quays and curers’ stations, one has before him, as it were, an extended plain, covered with thousands and tens of thousands of barrels, interspersed at short distances with the busy scene of delivery, of packing, and of salting, and all the bustle and detail attendant on the cure. It is a scene difficult to describe, and has ever struck those witnessing it for the first time with wonder and surprise.

Having visited Wick in the very heat of the season, and for the express purpose of gaining correct information about this important branch of our national industry, I am enabled to offer a slight description of the place and its appurtenances. Travellers by the steamboat usually arrive at the very time the “herring-drave” is making for the harbour; and a beautiful sight it is to see the magnificent fleet of boats belonging to the district, radiant in the light of the rising sun, all steadily steering to the one point, ready to add a large quota to the wealth of industrial Scotland. As we wend our way from the little jagged rock at which we are landed by the small boat attendant on the steamer, we obtain a glimpse of the one distinguishing feature of the town—the herring commerce. On all sides we are surrounded by herring. On our left hand countless basketfuls are being poured into the immense gutting-troughs, and on the right hand there are countless basketfuls being carried from the three or four hundred boats which are ranged on that particular side of the harbour; and behind the troughs more basketfuls are being carried to the packers. The very infants are seen studying the “gentle art;” and countless rows of the breechless _gamins de Wick_ are busy hooking up the silly “poddlies.” All around the atmosphere is humid; the sailors are dripping, the herring-gutters and packers are dripping, and every thing and person appears wet and comfortless; and as you pace along you are nearly ankle-deep in brine. Meantime the herrings are being shovelled about in the large shallow troughs with immense wooden spades, and with very little ceremony. Brawny men pour them from the baskets on their shoulders into the aforesaid troughs, and other brawny men dash them about with more wooden spades, and then sprinkle salt over each new parcel as it is poured in, till there is a sufficient quantity to warrant the commencement of the important operation of gutting and packing. Men are rushing wildly about with note-books, making mysterious-looking entries. Carts are being filled with dripping nets ready to hurry them off to the fields to dry. The screeching of saws among billet-wood, and the plashing of the neighbouring water-wheel, add to the great babel of sound that deafens you on every side. Flying about, blood-bespattered and hideously picturesque, we observe the gutters; and on all hands we may note thousands of herring-barrels, and piles of billet-wood ready to convert into staves. At first sight every person looks mad—some appear so from their costume, others from their manner—and the confusion seems inextricable; but there is method in their madness, and even out of the chaos of Wick harbour comes regularity, as I have endeavoured to show.

So soon as a sufficient quantity of fish has been brought from the boats and emptied into the gutting-troughs, another of the great scenes commences—viz. the process of evisceration. This is performed by females, hundreds of whom annually find well-paid occupation at the gutting-troughs. It is a bloody business; and the gaily-dressed and dashing females whom we had observed lounging about the curing-yards, waiting for the arrival of the fish, are soon most wonderfully transmogrified. They of course put on a suit of apparel adapted to the business they have in hand—generally of oilskin, and often much worn. Behold them, then, about ten or eleven o’clock in the forenoon, when the gutting scene is at its height, and after they have been at work for an hour or so: their hands, their necks, their busts, their

“Dreadful faces throng’d, and fiery arms”—

their every bit about them, fore and aft, are spotted and besprinkled o’er with little scarlet clots of gills and guts; or as Southey says of Don Roderick, after the last and fatal fight—

“Their flanks incarnadined,
Their poitral smear’d with blood”—

See yonder trough, surrounded by a score of fierce eviscerators, two of them wearing the badge of widowhood! How deftly they ply the knife! It is ever a bob down to seize a herring, and a bob up to throw it into the basket, and the operation is over. It is performed with lightning-like rapidity by a mere turn of the hand, and thirty or forty fish are operated upon before you have time to note sixty ticks of your watch. These ruthless widows seize upon the dead herrings with such a fierceness as almost to denote revenge for their husbands’ deaths; for they, alas! fell victims to the herring lottery, and the widows scatter about the gills and guts as if they had no bowels of compassion.

In addition to herrings that are pickled and those sold in a fresh state, great quantities are made into what are called “bloaters,” or transformed into “reds.” At Yarmouth immense quantities of bloaters and reds are annually prepared for the English markets. The bloaters are very slightly cured and as slightly smoked, being prepared for immediate sale; but the herrings brought into Yarmouth are cured in various ways: the bloaters are for quick sale and speedy consumption; then there is a special cure for fish sent to the Mediterranean—“Straits-men” I think these are called; then there are the black herrings, which have a really fine flavour. In fact the Yarmouth herrings are so cured as to be suitable to particular markets. It may interest the general reader to know that the name of “bloater” is derived from the herring beginning to swell or bloat during the process of curing. Small logs of oak are burned to produce the smoke, and the fish are all put on “spits” which are run through the gills. The “spitters” of Yarmouth are quite as dexterous as the gutters of Wick, a woman being able to spit a last per day. Like the gutters and packers of Wick, the spitters of Yarmouth work in gangs. The fish, after being hung and smoked, are packed in barrels, each containing seven hundred and fifty fish.

The Yarmouth boats do not return to harbour every morning, like the Scotch boats; being decked vessels of some size, from fifty to eighty tons, costing about £1000, and having stowage for about fifty lasts of herrings, they are enabled to remain at sea for some days, usually from three to six, and of course they are able to use their small boats in the fishery, a man or two being left in charge of the large vessel, while the majority of the hands are out in the boats fishing. There has always been a busy herring-fishery at the port of Yarmouth. A century ago upwards of two hundred vessels were fitted out for the herring-fishery, and these afforded employment to a large number of people—as many as six thousand being employed in one way or the other in connection with the fishery. The Yarmouth boats or busses are not unlike the boats once used in Scotland, which have been already described. They carry from fifteen to twenty lasts of herrings (a last, counted fisherwise, is more than 13,000 herrings, but nominally it is 10,000 fish), and are manned with some fourteen men or boys.

There has been a long-continued controversy in Scotland as to the best kind of fishing-boats, certain parties arguing that none but decked vessels ought to be used, which we think would be a great mistake so long as the fishing is carried on as at present. In the first place, there is no harbour accommodation for a fleet of large decked vessels; the present herring-boats, when not in use, are drawn up on the beach, where they can readily be examined and repaired, and can be easily pushed into the water when again required. In the second place, these herring-boats rarely go far from their fishing-port; a voyage of from one to three hours carries them to the fishing-place which they have selected—the chief fisheries being just off the coast; and as they have only to spend a few hours on the fishing-ground before returning to port, the present size of boat is in every way convenient for the voyage. And, in the third place, the open boats have this advantage—viz. that it is easier to fish from one of them than from a larger vessel—the great length of the present drift of nets involving very severe labour, both in the letting of the nets out from the boat and in hauling them in when laden with fish. So long, therefore, as the herring-fishery is a coast one, the present style of boat is the best that can be employed. If it were necessary for the boats to go far out to sea, involving a voyage of days, then it would be proper to have larger vessels, because it is absolutely necessary that the herrings should be cured within a few hours of their being captured.

The following figures as to the catch of 1862 and 1863, and as to the number of boats and people employed, are from the official returns of the fishing of these two years; in fact I have made a complete though brief abridgment of the whole papers, which, at the time I write, are the latest published. The revenue derived under the Act for the branding of herrings, passed in 1859, amounted to £5801: 12: 4 in 1862, being an increase of £3157: 0: 4 over that of 1859; and in 1863 the brand fees produced the sum of £4618: 16s. The returns of the herring-fishing of 1863, as compared with that of 1862, which was, however, an extraordinarily good year, are as follow:—

Barrels. Barrels. Barrels.

1862. Cured, 830,904 Branded, 346,712 Ex., 494,910
1863. Do. 654,816½ Do. 276,880½ Do. 407,761½

The quantity of herrings branded out of the fishing of 1862 was, as seen above, 346,712 barrels, a number greatly exceeding that of any previous year; which shows not only that the fishing was very productive, but also the great demand for branded herrings, the reliance of the Continent upon the brand (the chief herring trade there being in barrels that have been branded), and the steady improvement in the cure of the fish. The fishing of 1863, when compared with those of 1860 and 1861—fishings of which the total amounts are nearer to that of 1863 than that of 1862—also show this in a remarkable degree; for we find from the returns that out of a cure in 1863 less by 26,377 barrels than the cure of 1860, there were branded 44,967 barrels more and exported 29,791 barrels more than in 1860; that out of a cure in 1863 less by 14,012 barrels than the cure of 1861, there were branded 11,533 barrels more and exported 17,448 barrels more than in 1861. A comparison of the rate per cent which the quantity branded forms of the total quantity cured shows this still more clearly. In 1860 the rate was 55½ per cent; in 1861 it was 58⅓ per cent; in 1862, 59½; and in 1863 it was 62¼ per cent.

The quantity cured in 1862 exceeds, by upwards of 50,000 barrels, that of any previous year’s fishing. The districts in which an increase of take was chiefly obtained were Buckie, Banff, Fraserburgh, and Peterhead on the east coast, and Stornoway and Inverary on the west. The total increase at these districts of the fishing of 1862 over that of 1861 being 184,023 barrels, and the increase of the whole of Scotland being 172,076 barrels, it would appear that, although there was a decided increase in these districts, the other fishing-places were scarcely up to the mark of the previous year. The fishing at Fraserburgh was remarkable as having yielded the highest average of any ever known in that district, being 226½ crans per boat. The season of 1862 was also remarkable for the decrease in the shoals of dogfish. This is shown from the entire and perfect condition of the herrings caught. In 1861, with a cure of 31,631 barrels at Fraserburgh, the broken fish were more than 4½ per cent; while in 1862, with a cure of 77,124 barrels, the broken were only a little over 2 per cent.

In 1863 there was an increase over 1862 in the districts of Lybster, Orkney, and Shetland, and the Isle of Man; but at Wick and some of the Moray Firth stations the fishing was almost the same; while it was greatly less at Eyemouth, Anstruther, Peterhead, Fraserburgh, Banff, Stornoway, and Inverary.

In 1862, at Wick, a fishing for herring with nets in the winter was tried for the first time, and was so far successful, herrings being caught having milt and roe, with the appearance that they might become full fish in three weeks or a month, and averaging 800 to the cran. This result goes far to prove that the herring is a fish of local habits, having no great range of emigration, and that it spawns twice in the course of the year. The winter fishing was repeated and extended in 1863. Trials were made for herring during the winter all along the south shores of the Moray Firth, and along the east coast as far as Montrose; and in some quarters this fishery was so extensively prosecuted as to lead to the fish being selected and branded for the Continental market.

The number of vessels fitted out in Scotland and the Isle of Man for the British herring-fishery 1862 was 281, employing 1149 men. The quantity of herrings cured in these vessels was 59,934 barrels, being an average of 213 barrels each vessel, generally made in two or three voyages. The number of boats in Scotland and the Isle of Man, whether decked or undecked, irrespective of the places to which they belong, employed in the herring-fishery of 1862, for one selected week in each district, was 9067, manned by 43,468 fishermen and boys, and employing 22,471 persons as coopers, gutters, packers, and labourers, making a total of persons employed 65,939. Of the total number of boats, 1122 fished at Wick, 960 at Loch Broom, 900 at Stornoway, 783 at Eyemouth, and 700 at Peterhead. The total number of boats employed in the shore-curing herring, and cod and ling fisheries in 1862 was 12,545, with an aggregate tonnage of 88,871, and valued at £272,960. The value of nets and lines belonging to these boats is estimated at £474,834. The boats are manned by 41,008 fishermen and boys, the curers and coopers employed amount to 2756, and the number of other persons employed is estimated at 50,098. In 1863 there was an increase of 47 boats, but a decrease of 150 fishermen and boys, while there was an increase of £34,369 in the estimated value of boats and nets.[10]

I have placed on the following page a complete journal of the daily catch of herrings at Wick for the season of 1862, in order to show the progress of the fishing.

┌───────┬─────┬──────┬──────┬─────┬───────┬─────────┬──────────────┐
│ │ │Ave- │Total │ Gen-│Total │ │ │
│ │Boats│rage. │daily │eral │catch │ │ │
│Date. │out. │crans.│catch.│ Ave-│ for │Quality. │ Weather. │
│ │ │ │ │rage.│season.│ │ │
├───────┼─────┼──────┼──────┼─────┼───────┼─────────┼──────────────┤
│July 3│ 20│ 2│ 40│ 0│ 40│Excellent│Mild. │
│ ” 4│ 30│ 1│ 30│ 0│ 70│ Do. │Wet. │
│ ” 5│ 60│ ½│ 30│ 0│ 100│ Do. │Damp and │
│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ mild. │
│ ” 8│ 50│ ½│ 25│ 0│ 125│ Do. │Mild. │
│ ” 9│ 70│ 0│ 10│ 0│ 135│Good │Gentle breeze.│
│ ” 10│ 70│ 1½│ 105│ 0│ 240│ Do. │Breezy. │
│ ” 11│ 120│ 2│ 60│ ¼│ 300│ Do. │Cold and │
│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ breezy. │
│ ” 12│ 150│ 7│ 1,050│ 1¼│ 1,350│ Do. │Fine. │
│ ” 15│ 180│ 1│ 180│ 1¼│ 1,530│Mixed │Mild. │
│ ” 16│ 170│ 1│ 170│ 1½│ 1,700│Good │Clear—strong │
│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ tides. │
│ ” 17│ 150│ 1│ 150│ 1¾│ 1,850│ Do. │Wet. │
│ ” 18│ 100│ 1│ 100│ 2│ 1,950│ Do. │Thick and │
│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ wet. │
│ ” 19│ 50│ 1│ 50│ 2│ 2,000│ Do. │Rough. │
│ ” 22│ 300│ 3│ 900│ 3│ 2,900│ Do. │Mild. │
│ ” 23│ 600│ 2│ 1,200│ 4│ 4,100│Excellent│ Do. │
│ ” 24│ 700│ 1│ 700│ 4½│ 4,800│ Do. │Changeable. │
│ ” 25│ 250│ ½│ 125│ 4½│ 4,925│ Do. │Very rough. │
│ ” 26│ 700│ 1│ 700│ 5│ 5,625│ Do. │Mild. │
│ ” 29│ 950│ 0│ 150│ 5│ 5,775│ Do. │Mild and │
│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ wet. │
│ ” 30│ 900│ ½│ 450│ 6│ 6,225│ Do. │ Do. │
│ ” 31│ 950│ 1│ 950│ 6½│ 7,175│ Do. │Rough. │
│Aug. 1│ 250│ 2│ 500│ 7│ 7,675│ Do. │Mild—heavy │
│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ sea. │
│ ” 2│ 1000│ 2│ 2,000│ 8½│ 9,675│Mixed │Mild and │
│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ wet. │
│ ” 5│ 150│ 1│ 150│ 9│ 9,825│Good │Rough. │
│ ” 6│ 70│ 3│ 210│ 9│ 10,035│Spent │ Do. │
│ ” 7│ 1100│ 6│ 6,600│ 15│ 16,635│⅓ spent │Mild. │
│ ” 8│ 1100│ 4│ 4,400│ 19│ 21,035│¼ spent │Thick and │
│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │rough. │
│ ” 9│ 700│ 6│ 4,200│ 23│ 25,235│ Do. │ Do. │
│ ” 12│ 1120│ 3│ 3,360│ 26│ 28,595│Good │Breezy. │
│ ” 13│ 1120│ 8│ 8,960│ 34│ 37,555│Excellent│Thick, wet, │
│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ and mild. │
│ ” 14│ 1120│ 4│ 4,480│ 38│ 42,035│ Do. │ Do. │
│ ” 15│ 1100│ 11│12,210│ 48│ 54,245│ Do. │ Do. │
│ ” 16│ 1000│ 8│ 8,000│ 56│ 62,245│¼ spent│ │o. │
│ ” 19│ 1000│ 0│ 50│ 56│ 62,295│Excellent│Strong gale. │
│ ” 20│ 800│ ½│ 400│ 56½│ 62,695│ Do. │Gentle │
│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ breeze—cold.│
│ ” 21│ 800│ ¼│ 200│ 57│ 62,895│ Do. │ Do. │
│ ” 22│ 900│ ½│ 450│ 57│ 63,345│ Do. │Calm and │
│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ clear. │
│ ” 23│ 800│ ¼│ 200│ 57½│ 63,545│ Do. │Very wet │
│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ and calm. │
│ ” 26│ 1120│ 2│ 2,240│ 59│ 65,785│¼ spent │Mild. │
│ ” 27│ 1120│ 5│ 5,600│ 64│ 71,385│⅓ spent │Breezy. │
│ ” 28│ 1120│ 1│ 1,120│ 65│ 72,505│Good │Clear and │
│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ mild. │
│ ” 29│ 1100│ ¾│ 800│ 65½│ 73,305│ Do. │ Do. │
│ ” 30│ 1000│ ½│ 500│ 66│ 73,805│ Do. │ Do. │
│Sept. 2│ 1050│ ½│ 525│ 66½│ 74,330│Excellent│Breezy. │
│ ” 3│ 20│ ½│ 10│ 66½│ 74,340│ Do. │ Do. │
│ ” 4│ 20│ ½│ 10│ 66½│ 74,350│ Do. │ Do. │
│ ” 5│ 100│ 1│ 100│ 66½│ 74,450│ Do. │Mild. │
│ ” 6│ 600│ ¼│ 150│ 67│ 74,600│ Do. │ Do. │
│ ” 9│ 220│ 4│ 880│ 68│ 75,480│¼ spent │ Do. │
│ ” 10│ 300│ 10│ 3,000│ 71│ 78,480│Good │ Do. │
│ ” 11│ 400│ 20│ 8,000│ 77│ 86,480│⅓ spent │ Do. │
│ ” 12│ 400│ 10│ 4,000│ 81│ 90,480│¼ spent │Breezy. │
│ ” 13│ 3│ 4│ 12│ 81│ 90,492│Good │Wind and │
│ │ │ │ │ │ │ │ rain. │
│ ” 16│ 200│ ¾│ 160│ 81│ 90,652│ Do. │Mild. │
└───────┴─────┴──────┴──────┴─────┴───────┴─────────┴──────────────┘