THE STORY OF
NEWFOUNDLAND
BY THE RIGHT HON. THE
LORD BIRKENHEAD
LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR OF GREAT BRITAIN
HONORARY FELLOW OF WADHAM AND MERTON COLLEGES, OXFORD
NEW AND ENLARGED EDITION
LONDON
HORACE MARSHALL & SON
TEMPLE HOUSE AND 125 FLEET STREET, E.C.
1920
Printed in Great Britain
by Turnbull & Spears, Edinburgh
PREFACEToC
Twenty-two years ago the enterprise of Horace Marshall & Son produced a series of small books known as "The Story of the Empire Series." These volumes rendered a great service in bringing home to the citizens of the Empire in a simple and intelligible form their community of interest, and the romantic history of the development of the British Empire.
I was asked more than twenty-one years ago to write the volume which dealt with Newfoundland. I did so. The little book which was the result has been for many years out of print. I have been asked by my friends in Newfoundland and elsewhere to bring it up to date for the purpose of a Second Edition. The publishers assented to this proposal, and this volume is the result.
The book, of course, never pretended to be anything but a slight sketch. An attempt has been made—while errors have been corrected and the subject matter has been brought up to date—to maintain such character as it ever possessed.
I shall be well rewarded for any trouble I have taken if it is recognized by my friends in Newfoundland that the reproduction of this little book places on record an admiration for, and an interest in, our oldest colony which has endured for considerably more than twenty-one years.
BIRKENHEAD.
House of Lords,
May 1920.
CONTENTSToC
THE STORY OF NEWFOUNDLAND
CHAPTER IToC
THE LAND AND ITS PEOPLE
The island of Newfoundland, which is the tenth largest in the world, is about 1640 miles distant from Ireland, and of all the American coast is the nearest point to the Old World. Its relative position in the northern hemisphere may well be indicated by saying that the most northern point at Belle Isle Strait is in the same latitude as that of Edinburgh, whilst St. John's, near the southern extremity, lies in the same latitude as that of Paris. Strategically it forms the key to British North America. St. John's lies about half-way between Liverpool and New York, so that it offers a haven of refuge for needy craft plying between England and the American metropolis. The adjacent part of the coast is also the landing-place for most of the Transatlantic cables: it was at St. John's, too, that the first wireless ocean signals were received. From the sentimental point of view Newfoundland is the oldest of the English
To understand that story a short account must be given at the outset of the situation and character of the island. But for the north-eastern side of the country, which is indented by deep and wide inlets, its shape might be roughly described as that of an equilateral triangle. Its area is nearly 43,000 square miles, so that it is larger than Scotland and considerably greater than Ireland, the area of which is 31,760 square miles. Compared to some of the smaller states of Europe, it is found to be twice as large as Denmark, and three times as large as Holland. There is only a mile difference between its greatest length, which from Cape Ray, the south-west point, to Cape Norman, the northern point, is 317 miles, and its greatest breadth, from west to east, 316 miles from Cape Spear to Cape Anguille. Its dependency, Labrador, an undefined strip of maritime territory, extends from Cape Chidley, where the Hudson's Straits begin in the north, to Blanc Sablon in the south, and includes the most easterly point of the mainland. The boundaries between Quebec and Labrador have been a matter of keen dispute. The inhabitants are for the most part Eskimos, engaged in fishing and hunting. There are no towns, but there are a few Moravian mission stations.
The ruggedness of the coast of Newfoundland, and the occasional inclemency of the climate in winter, led to unfavourable reports, against which at least one early traveller raised his voice in protest. Captain Hayes, who accompanied Gilbert to Newfoundland in 1583, wrote on his return:
"The common opinion that is had of intemperation and extreme cold that should be in this country, as of some part it may be verified, namely the north, where I grant it is more colde than in countries of Europe, which are under the same elevation; even so it cannot stand with reason, and nature of the clime, that the south parts should be so intemperate as the bruit has gone."
Notwithstanding the chill seas in which it lies, Newfoundland is not in fact a cold country. The Arctic current lowers the temperature of the east coast, but the Gulf Stream, whilst producing fogs, moderates the cold. The thermometer seldom or never sinks below zero in winter, and in summer extreme heat is unknown. Nor is its northerly detachment without compensation, for at times the Aurora borealis illumines the sky with a brilliancy unknown further south. A misconception appears to prevail that the island is in summer wrapped in fog, and its shores in winter engirt by ice. In the interior the climate is very much like that of Canada, but is not so severe as that of western Canada or even of Ontario and Quebec. The sky is bright and the weather clear, and the salubrity is shown by the healthy appearance of the population.
The natural advantages of the country are very great, though for centuries many of them were strangely overlooked. Whitbourne, it is true, wrote with quaint enthusiasm, in the early sixteenth century: "I am loth to weary thee (good reader) in acquainting thee thus to those famous, faire, and profitable rivers, and likewise to those delightful large and inestimable woods, and also with those fruitful and enticing lulls and delightful vallies." In fact, in the interior the valleys are almost as numerous as Whitbourne's adjectives, and their fertility promises a great future for agriculture when the railway has done its work.
The rivers, though "famous, faire, and profitable," are not overpoweringly majestic. The largest are the Exploits River, 200 miles long and navigable for some 30 miles, and the Gander, 100 miles long, which—owing to the contour of the island—flows to the eastern bays. The deficiency, however, if it amounts to one, is little felt, for Newfoundland excels other lands in the splendour of its bays, which not uncommonly pierce the land as far as sixty miles. The length of the coast-line has been calculated at about 6000 miles—one of the longest of all countries of the world relatively to the area. Another noteworthy physical feature is the great number of lakes and ponds; more than a third of the area is occupied by water. The largest lake is Grand Lake, 56 miles long, 5 broad, with an area of nearly 200 square miles. The longest mountain range in the island is about the same length as the longest river, 200 miles; and the highest peaks do not very greatly exceed 2000 feet.
The cliffs, which form a brown, bleak and rugged barrier round the coasts of Newfoundland, varying in height from 300 to 400 feet, must have seemed grim enough to the first discoverers; in fact, they give little indication of the charming natural beauties which lie behind them. The island is exuberantly rich in woodland, and its long penetrating bays, running in some cases eighty to ninety miles inland, and fringed to the water's edge, vividly recall the more familiar attractiveness of Norwegian scenery. Nor has any custom staled its infinite variety, for as a place of resort it has been singularly free from vogue. This is a little hard to understand, for the summer climate is by common consent delightful, and the interior still retains much of the glamour of the imperfectly explored. The cascades of Rocky River, of the Exploits River, and, in particular, the Grand Falls, might in themselves be considered a sufficient excuse for a voyage which barely exceeds a week.
Newfoundland is rich in mineral promise. Its history in this respect goes back only about sixty years: in 1857 a copper deposit was discovered at Tilt Cove, a small fishing village in Notre Dame Bay, where seven years later the Union Mine was opened. It is now clear that copper ore is to be found in quantities almost as inexhaustible as the supply of codfish. There are few better known copper mines in the world than Bett's Cove Mine and Little Bay Mine; and there are copper deposits also at Hare Bay and Tilt Cove. In 1905-6 the copper ore exported from these mines was valued at more than 375,000 dollars, in 1910-11 at over 445,000 dollars. The value of the iron ore produced in the latter period was 3,768,000 dollars. It is claimed that the iron deposits—red hematite ore—are among the richest in the world. In Newfoundland, as elsewhere, geology taught capital where to strike, and when the interior is more perfectly explored it is likely that fresh discoveries will be made. In the meantime gold, lead, zinc, silver, talc, antimony, and coal have also been worked at various places.
A more particular account must be given of the great fish industry, on which Newfoundland so largely depends, and which forms about 80 per cent. of the total exports. For centuries a homely variant of Lord Rosebery's
"Newfoundlanders are men of one idea, and that idea is fish. Their lives are devoted to the sea and its produce, and their language mirrors their lives; thus the chief streets in their chief towns are named Water Street, guides are called pilots, and visits cruises. Conversely, land words have sea meanings, and a 'planter,' which meant in the eighteenth century a fishing settler as opposed to a fishing visitor, meant in the nineteenth century—when fishing visitors ceased to come from England—a shipowner or skipper. The very animals catch the infection, and dogs, cows, and bears eat fish. Fish manures the fields. Fish, too, is the main-spring of the history of Newfoundland, and split and dried fish, or what was called in the fifteenth century stock-fish, has always been its staple, and in Newfoundland fish means cod."
The principal home of the cod is the Grand Newfoundland Bank, an immense submarine island 600 miles in length and 200 in breadth, which in earlier history probably formed part of North America. Year by year the demand for codfish grows greater, and the supply—unaffected by centuries of exaction—continues to satisfy the demand. This happy result is produced by the marvellous fertility of the cod, for naturalists tell us that the roe of a single female—accounting, perhaps, for half the whole weight of the fish—commonly contains as many as five millions of ova. In the year 1912-13 the value of the exported dried codfish alone was 7,987,389 dollars, and in 1917 the total output of the bank and shore cod fishery was valued at 13,680,000 dollars; and at a time when it was incomparably less, Pitt had thundered in his best style that he would not surrender the Newfoundland fisheries though the enemy were masters of the Tower of London. So the great Bacon, at a time when the wealth of the Incas was being revealed to the dazzled eyes of the Old World, declared, with an admirable sense of proportion, that the fishing banks of Newfoundland were richer far than the mines of Mexico and Peru.
Along the coasts of Norfolk and Suffolk the codfish is commonly caught with hook and line, and the same primitive method is still largely used by colonial fishermen. More elaborate contrivances are growing in favour, and will inevitably swell each year's returns. Nor is there cause to apprehend exhaustion in the supply. The ravages of man are as nothing to the ravages and exactions of marine nature, and both count for little in the immense populousness of the ocean. Fishing on a large scale is most effectively carried on by the Baltow system or one of its modifications. Each vessel carries thousands of fathoms of rope, baited and trailed at measured intervals. Thousands of hooks thus distributed over many miles, and the whole suitably moored. After a night's interval the catch is examined.
In 1890 a Fisheries Commission was established for the purpose of conducting the fisheries more efficiently than had been the case before. Modern methods were introduced, and the artificial propagation of cod and also of lobsters was begun. In 1898 a Department of Marine and Fisheries was set up, and with the minister in charge of it an advisory Fisheries Board was associated.
Though the cod-fishery is the largest and the most important of the Newfoundland fisheries, the seal, lobster, herring, whale and salmon fisheries are also considerable, and yield high returns. As to all these fisheries, the right to make regulations has been placed more effectively in the hands of Great Britain by the Hague arbitration award, which was published in September 1910, and which satisfied British claims to a very large extent.
A pathetic chapter in the history of colonization might be written upon the fate of native races. A great English authority on international law (Phillimore) has dealt with their claims to the proprietorship of American soil in a very summary way.
"The North American Indians," he says, "would have been entitled to have excluded the British fur-traders from their hunting-grounds; and not having done so, the latter must be considered as having been admitted to a joint occupation of the territory, and thus to have become invested with a similar right of excluding strangers from such portions of the country as their own industrial operations covered."
It is better to say frankly that the highest good of humanity required the dispossession of savages; and it is permissible to regret that the morals and humanity of the pioneers of civilization have not always been worthy of their errand.
It rarely happens that the native, as in South Africa, has shown sufficient tenacity and stamina to resist the tide of the white aggression: more often the invaders have gradually thinned their numbers. The Spanish adventurers worked to death the soft inhabitants of the American islands. Many perished by the sword, many in a species of national decline, the wonders of civilization, for good and for bad, working an obsession in their childish imaginations which in time reacted upon the physique of the race.
Sebastian Cabot has left a record of his standard of morality in dealing with the natives. When he was Grand Pilot of England it fell to his lot to give instructions to that brave Northern explorer, Sir Hugh Willoughby:
"The natives of strange countries," he advises, "are to be enticed aboard and made drunk with your beer and wine, for then you shall know the secrets of their hearts." A further practice which may have caused resentment in the minds of a sensitive people, was that of kidnapping the natives to be exhibited as specimens in Europe.
The natives of Newfoundland were known distinctively as Boeothics or Beothuks (a name probably meaning red men), who are supposed to have formed a branch of the great Algonquin tribe of North American Indians, a warlike race that occupied the north-eastern portion of the American continent. Cabot saw them dressed in skins like the ancient Britons, but painted with red ochre instead of blue woad. Cartier, the pioneer of Canadian adventure, who visited the island in 1534, speaks of their stature and their feather ornaments. Hayes says in one place: "In the south parts we found no inhabitants, which by all likelihood have abandoned these coasts, the same being so much frequented by Christians. But in the north are savages altogether harmless." Whitbourne, forty years later, gives the natives an equally good character: "These savage people being politikely and gently handled, much good might be wrought upon them: for I have had apparant proofes of their ingenuous and subtle dispositions, and that they are a people full of quicke and lively apprehensions.
"By a plantation" [in Newfoundland] "and by that means only, the poore
The plantation came, but it must be admitted that the policy of the planters was not, at first sight, of a kind to secure the admirable objects indicated above by King James's correspondent. In fact, for hundreds of years, and with the occasional interruptions of humanity or curiosity, the Boeothics were hunted to extinction and perversely disappeared, without, it must be supposed, having attained to the "civill and regular kinde of life" which was to date from the plantation.
As lately as 1819 a "specimen" was procured in the following way. A party of furriers met three natives—two male, one female—on the frozen Red Indian Lake. It appeared later that one of the males was the husband of the female. The latter was seized; her companions had the assurance to resist, and were both shot. The woman was taken to St. John's, and given the name of May March; next winter she was escorted back to her tribe, but died on the way. These attempts to gain the confidence of the natives were, perhaps, a little brusque, and from this point of view liable to misconstruction by an apprehensive tribe. Ironically enough, the object of the attempt just described was to win a Government reward of £100, offered to any person bringing about a friendly understanding with the Red Indians. Another native woman, Shanandithit, was brought to St. John's in 1823 and lived there till her death in 1829. She is supposed to have been the last survivor. Sir Richard Bonnycastle, who has an interesting chapter on this subject, saw her miniature, which, he says, "without being handsome, shows a pleasing countenance."
Before closing this introductory chapter a few figures may be usefully given for reference to illustrate the present condition of the island.[3] At the end of 1917 the population, including that of Labrador, was 256,500, of whom 81,200 were Roman Catholics and 78,000 members of the Church of England. The estimated public revenue for the year 1917-18 was 5,700,000 dollars; the estimated expenditure was 5,450,000 dollars. In the same year the public debt was about 35,450,000 dollars. The estimated revenue for 1918-19 was 6,500,000 dollars; expenditure, 5,400,000 dollars. In 1898 the imports from the United Kingdom amounted to £466,925, and the exports to the United Kingdom to £524,367. In the year 1917-18 the distribution of trade was mainly as follows: imports from the United Kingdom, 2,248,781 dollars; from Canada, 11,107,642 dollars; from the United States, 12,244,746 dollars; exports to the United Kingdom, 3,822,931 dollars; to Canada, 2,750,990 dollars; to the United States, 7,110,322 dollars. The principal imports in 1916-17 were flour, hardware, textiles, provisions, coal, and machinery; the chief exports were dried cod, pulp and paper, iron and copper ore, cod and seal oil, herrings, sealskins, and tinned lobsters. In 1917 there were 888 miles of railway open, of which 841 were Government-owned; and there are over 4600 miles of telegraph line. The tonnage of vessels entered and cleared at Newfoundland ports in 1916-17 was 2,191,006 tons, of which 1,818,016 tons were British. The number of sailing and steam vessels registered on December 31st, 1917, was 3496.
FOOTNOTES:
[1] "A Historical Geography of the British Colonies." Vol. v. Part 4. Newfoundland. (Oxford, 1911.)
[2] Op. cit., p. 192.
[3] In view of the nature and object of the present book, only a few figures can be given here; fuller information can easily be obtained in several of the works referred to herein, and more particularly in the various accessible Year Books.
CHAPTER IIToC
THE AGE OF DISCOVERY (1497-1502)
"If this should be lost," said Sir Walter Raleigh of Newfoundland, "it would be the greatest blow that was ever given to England." The observation was marked by much political insight. Two centuries later, indeed, the countrymen of Raleigh experienced and outlived a shock far more paralyzing than that of which he was considering the possible effects; but when the American colonies were lost the world destiny of England had already been definitely asserted, and the American loyalists were able to resume the allegiance of their birth by merely crossing the Canadian frontier. When Raleigh wrote, Newfoundland was the one outward and visible sign of that Greater England in whose future he was a passionate believer. Therefore, inasmuch as Newfoundland, being the oldest of all the English colonies, stood for the Empire which was to be, the moral effects of its loss in infancy would have been irretrievably grave. How nearly it was lost will appear in the following pages.
Newfoundland, as was fitting for one of the largest islands in the world, and an island, too, drawing strategic importance from its position, was often conspicuous in that titanic struggle between England and France for sea power, and therefore for the mastery of the world, which dwarfs every other feature of the eighteenth century. Nor did she come out of the struggle quite unscathed. Ill-informed or indifferent politicians in the Mother Country neglected to push home the fruits of victory on behalf of the colony which the struggle had convulsed, and the direct consequence of this neglect may be seen in the French fishery claims, which long distracted the occasional leisure of the Colonial Office. Newfoundland has indeed been hardened by centuries of trial. For years its growth was arrested by the interested jealousy of English merchants; and its maturity was vexed by French exactions, against which Canada or Australia would long ago have procured redress. Newfoundland has been the patient Griselda of the Empire, and the story of her triumph over moral and material difficulties—over famine, sword, fire, and internal dissension—fills a striking chapter in the history of British expansion.
That keen zest for geographical discovery, which was one of the most brilliant products of the Renaissance, was slow in making its appearance in England. Nor are the explanations far to seek. The bull (1494) of a notorious Pope (Alexander VI.)—lavish, as befits one who bestows a thing which he cannot enjoy himself, and of which he has no right to dispose—had allocated the shadowy world over the sea to Spain and Portugal, upon a fine bold
It is now clearly established that the earliest adventurers in America were men of Norse stock. More than a thousand years ago Greenland was explored by Vikings from Iceland, and a hundred years later Leif Ericsson discovered a land—Markland, the land of woods—which is plausibly identified with Newfoundland. Still keeping a southern course, the adventurer came to a country where grew vines, and where the climate was strangely mild; it is likely enough that this landfall was in Massachusetts or Virginia. The name Vinland was given to the newly-discovered country. The later voyages of Thorwald Ericsson, of Thorlstein Ericsson—both brothers of Leif—and of Thorfinn Karlsefne, are recounted in the Sagas. The story of these early colonists or "builders," as they called themselves, is weakened by an infusion of fable, such as the tale of the fast-running one-legged people; but with all allowances, the fact of Viking adventure on the American mainland is unquestioned and unquestionable, though we may say of these brave sailors, with Professor Goldwin Smith, that nothing more came of their visit, or in that age could come, than of the visit of a flock of seagulls.
It has been asserted by some writers that Basque navigators discovered the American continent a century before Cabot or Columbus; but evidence in support of such claims is either wanting or unconvincing. "Ingenious and romantic theories," says a critic of these views, "have been propounded concerning discoveries of America by Basque sailors before Columbus. The whale fishery of that period and long afterwards was in the hands of the Basques, and it is asserted that, in following the whales, as they became scarcer, farther and farther out in the western ocean, they came upon the coasts of Newfoundland a hundred years before Columbus and Cabot. No solid foundation can be found for these assertions. The records of the Basque maritime cities contain nothing to confirm them, and these assertions are mixed up with so much that is absurd—such as a statement that the Newfoundland Indians spoke Basque—that the whole hypothesis is incredible."[4]
The question has been much discussed whether Columbus or Cabot in later days rediscovered the American mainland. It does not, perhaps, much matter whether the honour belongs to an Italian employed by Spain or an Italian employed by England; and it is the less necessary to ask whether Cabot explored the mainland before Columbus touched at Paria, that in any event the real credit of the adventure belongs to the great Spanish sailor. It is well known that Columbus thought, as Cabot thought after him, that he was discovering a new and short route to India by the west. Hence was given the name West Indies to the islands which Columbus discovered; hence the company which administered the affairs of Hindostan was distinguished as the East India Company. Hence, too, the spiritual welfare of the Great Khan engaged the attention of both Columbus and Cabot, whereas, in fact, this potentate (if, indeed, he existed) was secluded from their disinterested zeal by a vast continent, and thousands of miles of ocean. These misconceptions were based on a strange underestimate of the circumference of the world, but they add, if possible, to our wonder at the courage of Columbus. Sailing day after day into the unknown, with tiny ships and malcontent crews, he never faltered in his purpose, and never lost faith in his theory. When he landed at Guanahana (Watling's Island) he saw in the Bahamas the Golden Cyclades, and bethought him how he might convey to the Great Khan the letters of his Royal patron. He saw in the west coast of Juana the mainland of Cathay, and in the waters which wash the shores of Cuba he sought patiently, but vainly, for the Golden Chersonese and the storied land of the Ganges.
John Cabot inherited both the truth and the error of Columbus. His career is one of those irritating mysteries which baffle the most patient inquiry. Born at Genoa, and naturalized in 1476 at Venice after fifteen years' residence, he seems to have settled in England eight or nine years before the close of the fifteenth century. Already his life had been an adventurous one. We catch glimpses of him at long intervals: now at Mecca, pushing curious inquiries into the region whence came the spice caravans; now in Spain, under the spell, perhaps, of the novel speculations of Toscanelli and Columbus; now plying his trade as a maker of charts in Bristol or on the Continent. The confusion between John Cabot and his son Sebastian adds to the uncertainty. Those who impute to Sebastian Cabot a cuckoo-like appropriation of his father's glory are able to support their opinion with weighty evidence. The most astounding feature of all is that the main incidents of a voyage which attracted as much attention as the first voyage of John Cabot should so soon have passed into oblivion.
Marking the boundary as clearly as possible between what is certain and what is probable, we find that on March 5th, 1496, Henry VII. granted a charter in the following terms:
"Be it known to all that we have given and granted to our well-beloved John Cabot, citizen of Venice, and to Lewis, Sebastian, and Sanctus, sons of the said John, and to their heirs and deputies ... authority to sail to all parts, countries, and seas of the East, of the West, and of the North, under our banner and ensigns, with five ships, and to set up our banner on any new found land, as our vassals and lieutenants, upon their own proper costs and charges to seek out and discover whatsoever isles ... of the heathen and infidels, which before the time have been unknown to all Christians...."
No sooner was the patent granted than the vigilant Spanish ambassador in London wrote to his master King Ferdinand, that a
"1497, Aug. 10th.—To hym that found the New Isle, £10."[7]
The only reliable contemporary authorities on the subject of John Cabot's first voyage are the family letters of Lorenzo Pasqualigo, a Venetian merchant resident in London, to his brother, and the official correspondence of Raimondo di Raimondi, Archpriest of Soncino. The latter's account is somewhat vague. He says, in his letters to Duke Sforza of Milan, August 24th, and December 18th, 1497, that Cabot, "passing Ibernia on the west, and then standing towards the north, began to navigate the eastern ocean, leaving in a few days the north star on the right hand, and having wandered a good deal he came at last to firm land.... This Messor Zoanni Caboto," he proceeds, "has the description of the world in a chart, and also in a solid globe which he has made, and he shows where he landed." Raimondo adds that Cabot discovered two islands, one of which he gave to his barber and the other to a Burgundian friend, who called themselves Counts, whilst the commander assumed the airs of a prince.[8]
We have from the Venetian, Pasqualigo, a letter, dated August 23rd, 1497, which was probably a fortnight or three weeks after the return of Cabot. According to this authority, Cabot discovered land 700 leagues away, the said land being the territory of the Great Khan (the "Gram cham"). He coasted along this land for 300 leagues, and on the homeward voyage sighted two islands, on which, after taking possession of them, he hoisted the Venetian as well as the English flag. "He calls himself the grand admiral, walks abroad in silk attire, and Englishmen run after him like madmen."[9] It is easy to overrate the reliability of such letters as those of Pasqualigo and Raimondo, and Pasqualigo's statement that Cabot sailed from Bristol to this new land, coasted for 300 leagues along it, and returned within a period of three months, is impossible to accept. At the same time, the accounts given by these writers occur, one in the frank intimacy of family correspondence, the other in the official reports of a diplomatic representative to his chief. They are both unquestionably disinterested, and are very much more valuable than the later tittle-tattle of Peter Martyr and Ramusio, which has plainly filtered through what Mr Beazley would call Sebastianized channels.