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INTRODUCTION
This
page is dedicated to the people who lived, worked, and
raised their families in Merasheen, and whose ties with
their home and their friends are still strong, both in
them and in their children. It is not being put together
for commercial purposes, but hopefully will bring back
some warm memories to those who are familiar with the
people, the songs, and the incidents referred to, and
will also serve as a momento to our reunion.
On
this site are short profiles or stories on most of the
father figures of our community; some of the songs we
sang down through the years, a short story on those few
men who began their lives fishing in Merasheen, who were
resettled and who return every year to continue their
work along with a selection of pictures of various parts
of the harbour or community.
In
doing profiles and stories, we decided to take the generation
of our grandfathers since this would allow us to include
every family in Merasheen without getting into large numbers
as would be the case if we chose our fathers' generation.
In
choosing songs to be included, we did not choose them
by singling out the best singers and then including one
of their songs. Instead, we tried to choose songs that
were popular party songs, particularly in the last ten
to fifteen years that the community existed. By doing
this, we hope to have included songs that are known by
young and old alike. This prevented us from including
many excellent songs and singers of the older generation.
Obviously,
we did not have personal knowledge of most of the facts
included in this page since they took place long before
our time. Our basis of knowledge, therefore, was the memories
and verbal relations of some very generous people. In
most instances, time did not permit us to confirm our
facts from more than one source, so we ask you to bear
with any small inaccuracies that may have been included.
Our
pictures were not taken by professional photographers,
but were gathered up from anyone who had a camera and
pictures of our days in Merasheen.
We
trust that this site wil reawaken some memories and be
a momento of our days in Merasheen and of our "REUNION
1980".
Loyola Pomroy & Bill Wilson
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HISTORY
OF MARASHEEN
The
major portion of this History is taken directly from a
paper researched and written by the last Sister Alice
Wilson when she was studying at Memorial University in
St. John's.
Merasheen
Island in Placentia Bay was settled, it seems before 1836,
since the census of the year shows a population of 167
people. In 1836, there were already 25 houses there and
each of these employed a servant. Tombstones also show
dates that extends back to the seventeenth century. In
1836, Merasheen's population is from a single settlement
on the island. However, in 1845, we find that Merasheen
Island had three settlements on it:
1. Little Merasheen - Population 159
2. Great Merasheen - Population 105
3. Virgin's Cove - Population 42
Three
divisions continued, as can be seen in the census, until
1891, Oral sources show that the Virgin's Cove settlement
remained there until 1967. It is important to note that
no one in the community seemed to know exactly where Little
Merasheen ended and Big Merasheen began.
Both
Merasheens have good, ice-free harbours, and fishing could
be done on a year-round basis. Little Merasheen was the
centre of activity in 1890 and early 1900's since the
school, church, and merchants resided in this area. Later,
this did not exist, but the names always remained.
Many legends suggest that Merasheen may have been settled
in the early sixteenth century by French people who were
trying to settle there or by the English people who desired
to remain in Newfoundland during the winter. Mr. Bill
Pomroy, an 80 year old gentleman, related that Soldier's
Point got its name because it was the scene of a French
and English battle before 1783. Tombstones, as stated
earlier, date back to the 1700's. Another legend states
that Merasheen was discovered and settled by two Frenchmen,
one named "Mere" and the "Jean". Later
it became Merasheen. In Little Merasheen, the whole settlement
is over a graveyard. This was known orally by all Merasheeners.
People installing water lines in 1950 found skulls and
bones of humans. It is difficult to show where the people
came from at Merasheen. Most people said their immediate
family heads were born in Merasheen or other sections
of Newfoundland. Only one person in Merasheen in 1849
was not born there, and he was from a British Colony.
Many of the people came from Branch, Fox Harbour, Long
Harbour, and any other areas where men from Merasheen
went to fish. These and other facts seem to indicate that
the census of 1836 is listing not the first settlers of
Merasheen, but perhaps second generation of a second settlement
which did not come from Europe as the first settlers did,
but came from settled sections of Newfoundland. The population
growth was of a steady rise from 167 in 1836 to its peak
of 380 in 1921. In 1953, the survey stated it was steady
at 348. It declined in the 1960's and by the end of 1968
no one remained.
The
economy of Merasheen has always been dependent on the
fishery. It is surrounded by the best fishing grounds
in Placentia Bay - i.e. Merasheen Bank, the White Sail,
Bennett's Bank, Iron Skull, etc. which were used for trawls,
nets and jigger. There were also numerous trap berths
from Buckle Cove, and Wild Cove and Fox Point down in
the Bight to the Long Point, the Dirty Rocks and the Point
of Merasheen on the end of the land, which year after
year yielded good voyages of fish. The fishery in Merasheen
went through the changes of history ranging from the small
punt fishery to the bank fishery in the schooners, to
the traps and gillnets of recent. Years, but up to this
day, those with the energy and initiative who go back
year after year to the grounds they know so well, manage
to make a living as they did when they lived and worked
there in years gone by.
When we think of the years spent in Merasheen, there is
one person who immediately comes to mind, because he played
a very important role in the lives of the people and the
community, i.e. Monsignor Fyme. Monsignor Fyme was born
in Amsterdam, Holland, ordained in Nfld. At the age of
26, was promoted to Domestic Prelate in 1951 and died
Sept. 6th, 1964.
He
was made a monsignor when in Merasheen and that occasion
was certainly one of the great days in the history of
our community. While there were other clergymen stationed
in our Parish before and after Monsignor Fyme, he is the
one who immediately comes to mind when we think of the
church in Merasheen, since he had a hand in the baptizing,
christening, or marrying of most of us who are more than
twenty-three years of age. Monsignor Fyme and the other
clergymen of his era had a great impact on the people
of Merasheen as is reflected in their way of life, their
families, and their values. We feel that as a community,
the people of Merasheen can feel proud of the quality
of people coming from so small a place and perhaps the
most obvious witness of this can be seen in the large
number of "Religious" who came from the island.
From a population that reached its peak of 380 people
in 1921 came two priests and fourteen sisters.
(Unfortunately,
we could not obtain pictures of all the sisters)
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JIM
ENNIS
Jim
Ennis, a man well known and respected by all the people
of Merasheen, was born September 30, 1906, the son of
Patrick Ennis and Ellen McHugh. He married Annie Best
on April 29, 1946, and together they raised a family of
six children. Jim began punt fishing at 18 years of age
with his brother Jack. After fishing with Jack for three
years, he went with Mike Duke of Fox Harbour in the "Polyanthus".
Following that, Jim was a member of other Cape St. Mary
boats, including the "Iris and Verna" with Skipper Din
Pat, after which he went with Pad Houlihan and back with
Din Pat again until the bait depot opened in Merasheen
in January, 1940 until he moved to Long Harbour on September
23, 1959, where he continued to operate a bait depot until
1971, when he was well past the age of retirement. In
1950, Jim became a Justice of the Peace in Merasheen,
a responsibility which he accepted and carried out conscientiously,
providing assistance to many in the community who were
experiencing problems with birth certificates, marriage
certificates, old age pensions, etc. He is still a Justice
of the Peace to this very day. Jim was always a natural
leader in the community, ready to become involved and
play his part in all community affairs. He was one of
the principal leaders in the establishment of the Coop
in Merasheen, serving for nineteen years as Secretary-Treasurer
of the Ophelia Co-op Credit Society and a director of
the Co-op Society for that same period. Jim always had
an excellent memory and a genuine interest in people and
local events. These talents and interests combined with
a great story-telling ability made him a reliable source
of information as an amateur historian. This talent is
recognized by all his peers in Merasheen who invariably
referred us to him when seeking information for our site.
He proved to be our main source for information on the
older generation, providing us with invaluable assistance
and an alibi for our mistakes. Jim, Annie, and most of
their family now reside in Long Harbour, ant there is
no better way to spend a day than to visit their home
and listen to Jim relate stories about the earlier times
in Merasheen being prompted by one or another member of
the family if he stops for a snort or a breath. We and
any that may enjoy this site are truly indebted to him
for his assistance.
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GEORGE
WILSON
George
was born in Merasheen on May 31, 1890 and began his long
fishing career at the age of thirteen years when he went
lobstering with Tom Ennis for $12.00 a month. That was
the start of a fifty-four years of fishing for George
during which time he was involved in every aspect of the
fishery ranging from his first year lobstering, to working
in Ned's herring factory as a packer for 15¢ an hour,
to being skipper of a boat (the Lilly Dale, owned by Sam
Best) at 20 years of age, to pursuing the trap fishery
in his later years in Merasheen. George was one of the
top sea captains in Merasheen sailing in the Petite Forte,
Fox Harbour and Harbour Buffett boats involved in the
fishery and coasting from Placentia Bay to St John's,
to Fortune Bay, to St. Pierre, etc. Like many from Merasheen,
he was caught out in the August Breeze and came out of
it safely by sailing for the deep water on the eastern
side of Placentia Bay and finally finding shelter in Long
Harbour.
George
loved the sea, loved the fishery and loved the Island
on which he lived. Unfortunately, like so many of his
generation, he was forced to end his days away from all
of this, settling in Freshwater.
George
was a good hand on a time and could be counted upon to
sing "My Good Lookin Man", a song that he acted
out, always blackening someone's nose with a poker when
singing the song.
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MY
GOOD LOOKIN MAN
Come
all ye maidens
Of courage brave and true
I'll tell you how to happy live
And avoid all trouble too
But if you live a single life
Plan ye may understand
Don't ye ever fall in love
With a Good Lookin Man.
When I was sixteen years of age
A damsel in my prime
I daily thought a wedded life
Was happy all the time
I daily thought a wedded life
Would be my only plan
I sobbed, I signed, both day and night
To get a nice young man.
My wishes came, too soon I got
One Sunday afternoon
As home from chruch I gaily walked
I met a fair gosson
He looked so fine about the face
To win him I made a plan
That every day I set a trap
For my Good Lookin Man.
Again by chances as out I walked
To take a pleasant roam
I met this handsome gentleman
Who wished to see me home
I feign said"No", but it was no use
To go with me was his plan
And to my house I walked along
With My Good Lookin Man.
He said to me as on we walked
"My dear and only love
If with me you consent to wed
I'll never unconstant prove
Sure I would be a husband kind
And do the best I can"
My heart, my hand, I then did give
To My Good Lookin Man.
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That night was fixed for us to wed
So happy I could cheer
He gently pressed me to his breast
Saying, "Oh my Mary dear"
He gently pressed me to his breast
To the parsons house we ran
And there I tied the dreadful knot
With My Good Lookin Man.
We
were scarce one week married
One Sunday afternoon
The
day was gone, the night came on
Out went my honeymoon
My gent walked out, and so did I
To watch him was my plan
And soon a flashing girl I saw
With My Good Lookin Man.
The clock was striking ten
When my gentleman walked in
I gently said, "My Wille dear
Where so long have you been?"
"I've been to church, my dear", he said
And that I could not stand
The rolling pin I then let fly
At My Good Lookin Man.
I blacked his eyes, I tore his hair
In ribbions I tore his clothes
I then took up the poker
And laid it across his nose
He looked just like a chemney sweep
As out the door he ran
And never a lady loved again
With My Good Lookin Man.
Ye married folks take my advice
In high and low degree
And if a husband you do get
Pitch in to him like me
When I found out I was deceived
It was my only plan
To spoil the handsome figure
Of My Good Lookin Man.
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NED
HENNESSEY
Ned
Hennessey's father came from County Kilkenny, Ireland
and married a Power form Dunville. Ned was born in 1877,
one of sixteen children. At a marriageable age, it is
told, he went up to Mrs. Houlihans and picked up their
baby girl Mary in his arms and said, : this it the girl
I'm going to marry." Afterwards he went to Grand
Falls to work in the mill there but later returned to
Merasheen and bought a business that he operated for years
becoming the principal merchant in the community for some
time.
In
his late 40's Ned married Mary Houlihan, a bride of nineteen
years and they gave birth to eleven children. The children
testify that in spite of the age difference, he was a
devoted husband and father who spend much of his spare
time entertaining them. Like many in Merasheen, Ned often
traveled across the bay to St. Kyran's for Sunday Mass
and on poor Sunday's when this was not possible, he led
the people in the Rosary in the Church of Merasheen. He
died March 4th, 1957 at the age of 80 years. His wife
Mary, is now residing in Calgary, Alberta.
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BERNARD
HENNESSEY
Bernard
was born in Merasheen and married Margaret Ennis, the
daughter of Dick ad Sis Ennis. Bernard lived on Soldier's
Point until Mrs. Sis became ill, after which he moved
to Little Merasheen and lived with Dick Ennis and Sis.
Bernard was shipped out as a fisherman most of his life,
and worked on the railway. Bernard was a good singer with
a great sense of humor and a man well like by everyone.
One of his best known songs is "The Burglar"
which was in later years said as a recitation.
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THE
BURGLAR
(This was one of Bernard's recitations)
I'll
tell you of a Burglar bold, who came to rob a house
He opened the window and he crept in, as quiet as a mouse
He looked for a place to conceal himself, while all were
asleep
"And now", says he to the family, "I'll
take a quiet peep".
In
under the bed the Burglar crept, he lay close to the wall
He didn't know was an auld maids room, or he wouldn't
be there at all
He was thinking of the money he'd get, as under the bed
he lay
At ten o'clock he say a sight that made his hair turn
gray.
At
ten o'clock the auld maid came in. "Ah, whist! I'm
tired", she said.
And thinking everything was all right she never looked
under the bed
She took out her teeth and her auld glass eye, and the
hair fell off her head
And the Burglar he got seventy fits when he looked from
under the bed.
From
under the bed the Burglar crept; he looked a total wreck
The auld maid she was wide awake, and she grabbed him
by the neck
The auld maid wasn't frightened at all; she looked as
quiet as a clam
"At last!" says she, "my prayers are heard.
Thank God, I got a man!"
The
auld maid then drew a revolver and unto the Burglar said,
"Young man, consent to marry me, or I'll blow the
top off your head!"
The Burglar looked around the room to see where he could
scoot
He thought of her teeth and her auld glass eye, and he
said,
"For God's sake, shoot!"
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BILL
POMEROY
Bill
Pomroy was a lively fellow at a time and often times in
later years. Theresa would have to leave Bill behind with
the young fellows and go home herself at tow or three
o'clock in the morning. His favourite song was "The
Crockery Ware". Bill married Theresa Murphy from
Petite Forte and raised a family of eleven children in
Big Merasheen. Bill and his brother Austin had the first
engine in Merasheen and indeed one of the first in Placentia
Bay. Nobody had any of the hand-me-down knowledge of engines
then, and Bill and Austin had to go to St. John's to have
the engine installed. This being done, they started home,
but broke down just outside St. John's harbour. They rowed,
skulled, and sailed back for repairs, only to find that
the wire was off the battery.
Once
when Bill was a young fellow at a party a few days before
Christmas, he, along with Pad Houlihan and George Hepditch,
decided at two o'clock in the morning they were going
to St. Pierre for some Christmas liquor. They left immediately,
arrived safely at St. Pierre, but ran into bad weather
on the way back. It was a sad Christmas in Merasheen for
most people feared for the lives of the three men when
they did not return for Christmas and for days after,
and there was no ship-to-shore communication in those
days. After several prayers and masses for their safe
return, they were presumed lost, but on Old Christmas
Day they sailed through the harbour none the worse for
their ordeal, and only one story to tell: On the way down
the bay, they were forced to go to Petite Forte for a
harbour, but while they were ashore, someone stole their
rum.
Bill
fished in Merasheen from the age of fourteen until the
age of seventy-six. He left Merasheen under the resettlement
program in 1968. Like most of the older generation, Bill
never understood why they had to resettle from Merasheen,
nor did he ever fully adjust to the move in the last years
of his life.
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CROCKERY
WARE
This
young man came in the dark I said "Old woman don't
speak so cross,
Looking for his own sweetheart, Lost my way, I'm to the
loss
He hooked his toe all in the chair, Here's two pounds
ten for your broken chair
And he fell back in the crockery ware. And ten pounds
more for your crockery ware.
The old woman ran downstairs in fright, Come all you rakes
and rambling sports
Calling for a candle light Don't ever go courting in the
dark
She said "Young man what brought you here, But if
you do you better beware
Smashing up my crockery ware?" You don't fall back
in the crockery ware.
To me wee whack fall diddle I ge oh
I sand wee whack fall diddle I ge oh.
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JIM
POMORY
Jim
was born and died in Merasheen, after a long hard life.
He spent most of his time fishing, both on his own and
in the boat with his brothers, Bill and Austin.
Jim
had his share of misfortunes, but two in particular appear
to be a little comical, as we look back. The first was
in the late twenties when Merasheen was in the midst of
a great windstorm, and the roof blew off Jim's house.
It didn't bother Jim too much, but he had to get his aging
mother down to his brother Bill's out of the wind. She
was wearing one of those heavy pleated wide tailed petticoats
at the time that hooked up on the fence on the top of
the height; Jim tore and dragged and was almost down to
the store where Bill lived when the petticoat had finally
run its course and gave way.
In
later years, Jim was over to Bill's one day and as he
looked out the window, he said "it's pretty thick
today, Therese, you can't see my place". It turned
out his place was on fire and the smoke completely hid
the view of his house, about 10 yards away.
Jim
raised two daughters, Les (Mrs. Stan Ennis) and Mrs. Bridie
Price who is residing in the States.
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GUS
HEPDITCH
Gus
was born somewhere around 1890. During his lifetime, he
became a legend among the residents of Placentia Bay.
A hearty old fellow, always ready for a yarn or a drop
of grog, a dreamer, a teller of "wonders", and
a dauntless sea-farer, Gus was a friend of all, young
and old alike. He was married to Leticia Connors and raised
two daughters and three sons.
Night
times and Sunday afternoons, just about every man and
young fellow in the harbour, ended up at Gus' to have
a chat with the boys, have a game of card, but most of
all to hear one of Gus' yarns, and of course his famous
dreams. Jim Ennis, a very close friend of Gus', can do
an excellent job on these "yarns", and it is
very difficult to put them into print and do them justice,
as only Jim can do, but we will have to try and get one
in like the time Gus contacted the measles during the
height of the fishing season. During the night while he
was in bed with his wife and six-week old son, his temperature
was so high that he became delirious. He thought that
he was out on the White Sail: "Time to heave out
the killick" mutters Gus. He whips up his infant
son, Francis, and heaves him out of bed. "Sawin away,
sawin away, like you would" says Gus, "woppin
it into Teesh every saw - boat nearly loaded with fish.
By and by I comes to me senses - looks over in the corner,
and there's the poor child screechin' his head off and
Teesh black and blue.
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SITTING
ON THE STILE MARY
(This song was sung by Joe Casey)
I'm
sitting on the stile Mary where we sat side by side,
On a bright May morning long ago when first you were my
bride,
The corn was springing fresh and green and the lark sang
loud on high,
The smile was on your lips Mary, the lovelight in your
eyes.
The
place has little changed Mary the days are bright as then,
The lark's loud song is in the air and the corn is green
again.
But I miss the soft clasp of your hand and your breath
warm on my cheek,
I'm listening for the words Mary you never more will speak.
Just
take a step down yonder lane a little church stands near,
The church where we were wed Mary you can see its tower
from here,
The graveyard lies where Mary sleeps and my steps might
break your rest,
Where I laid you darling down to sleep with you baby on
your breast.
I'm
very lonely now Mary for the poor makes no new friends,
But oh I love them better for the few our father sends,
You were all I had Mary my blessing and my pride,
There's no one left to care for me since my poor Mary
died.
I'm
bidding you a fond farewell my Mary fond and true,
I'll not forget you darling in the land I'm going to,
They say there's bread and work for all and the sun shines
always there,
But I'll not forget old Ireland were it fifty times as
fair.
And
oftimes in the grand old woods I'll sit and close my eyes,
And my mind will wander back again to the place where
Mary lies,
I think I'll see that grand ole stile where we sat side
by side,
The springing corn on a bright May morn where first you
were my bride.
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OLF
ROGERS
Olf
lived on Dunn's Point. He played the Jews Harp and sang,
his favourite song being " The Old Plantation Shoes",
once referred to by Michael Pittman as "The Auld
Brogues". His wife, Mrs. Kate, was born in Merasheen,
and came off the island to the mainland for the first
time when she moved to Freshwater under the resettlement
program at the age of 84 years. She visited a doctor for
the first time after she moved to Placentia in the late
sixties.
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JIMMY
BARRETT
Jimmy
came to Merasheen from Pinchers Island and lived on Dunn's
Point. He had a small house that was always a gathering
place for those who wanted to hear Jimmy's "tall
stories" or "lies". Jimmy said he had exactly
101 songs. Unfortunately, we couldn't get them for our
site.
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THE
DRUNKEN CAPTIAN
In
a stream of calm our vessel lay, our drunken captain got
on a spree
He came on board and to us did say, "get the anchor
ready and we'll sail away".
We
got all ready by his command and the wind blew free as
we left the land.
We left Cape Pine all on our lee and we swang her off
to the deep blue sea.
Down
came the squall from the angry sky, our ship she hove
but she would not lie
We asked our captain to shorten sail, or we'd all be lost
in the heavy gale.
He
swung his hands and he tore his hair, saying "boys
I'm captain you need not fear".
Saying "boys I'm captain, you need not fear, I'll
shoot the first man to interfere.
Then
up spoke one of our gallant crew, saying, "there's
twelve of us on this deck do stand.
We'll reef her down, to the sea she'll go, if you interfere
you'll be tied below".
We
reefed her down all against his will, the wind blew free
and the sails were filled
We're heading up along the Cape Shore now as she splits
the white foam, out from her bow.
Yes
we're bound home in deep distress, like a white seagull
as she seeks her nest.
When I get on shore, no more I'll sail, with a drunken
captain in a heavy gale.
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MRS.
KATE WILSON
Mrs.
Kate Wilson came to Merasheen from Fox Harbour, the daughter
of Jack Murray and Stash Tucker. She married Bill Wilson
and being left a widow with nine children when Bill died,
still found time to be on hand when her friends need her.
Mrs. Kate borned more than 600 babies, often travelling
under very rough conditions to Isle Valen and Red Island,
as well as in Merasheen. She picked up many songs in her
years and was always good for a few at a time. One of
her favourites was "Peter Emberley".
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PETER
EMBERLEY
My
name is Peter Emberley, as you may understand
Born in Prince Edward Island, that bright and happy land.
Twas in the year of sixty two, when the meadows were green
and new
I left my native country, my fortune to pursue.
I
landed in New Brunswick, in that lumbering country
I hired to work in the lumbering woods that proved my
destiny.
I hired to work in the lumbering woods where they cut
those tall trees down
Where a loaded sled slipped from the iron, I received
my deadly wound.
Here's
a word about my father, twas he that got me here
I did not like his treatment, I thought it too severe
A father should not press his son, or try to keep him
down
Or force from him his native home when he is still too
young.
There's
danger on the oceans where the angry waves roll high
There is danger on the battlefields where the musket balls
do fly
There's danger I the lumbering woods and death is solemn
there
And I have fallen a victim to that great monster there.
Here's
a word about the island girls, those island girls so true,
That they may live to enjoy the land where my first breath
I drew
This world it shall go round again, as is oftimes did
before
What signifies one moral soul, when death comes at the
door?
Here's
a word about a brighter friend, I mean my mother dear
She raised a son so guiltful when he left her tender care
But little did she ever thin when she sang hush-a-bye
What country he should travel in or the death that he
should die.
Here's
a word about Prince Edward Island, it is a garden in the
sea
No more I'll walk its flowery beds in a soft cool summer
breeze
No more I'll watch those gallant ships as they go sailing
by
With banners waving in the air above all canvas high.
Comrades
I am dying, there's one more thing I crave
Get some good and holy father to bless my peaceful grave
Down in the city of Ives town, my mouldering body will
lay
Waiting for our Saviour's call to come, on that great
Judgement Day.
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BILL
WILSON
Bill
Wilson was a hard working fisherman who lived in Little
Merasheen and who spent a lot of time working in the woods.
He was a man who truly believed in ghosts and was very
nervous in the woods alone. Once when in a thick brake
of woods down to "Murray's Hill", he thought
he felt something grab him by the head. In a panic, he
ran all the way down"Murray's Scrape", and when
he reached the bottom, only the brim of the straw hat
he was wearing remained on his head…it had tangled
in a limb and the whole hat reveled out as he ran.
Bill
and his son, Johnny, had a smack named "The Old Tommy".
One night when anchored on Bennett's Bank, a storm came
up and being tossed about, the "Old Tommy" became
leaky taking on so much water that they couldn't keep
her free. Bill told his son to go down for'd, get some
flour and ashes and mix it up. When had done this, Bill
told him to throw the mixture on the water in front of
the boat and haul up. After sailing through this mixture,
they went home without taking on another drop of water.
Bill
was a good hand at putting songs together and wrote two
songs about events in his life. They are "Sandy Harbour
Town" and "The August Gale".
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THE
AUGUST GALE
On
the twenty-fifth of August the gale began to rise,
It left so many orphans and took so many lives:
Leaving their friends and loved ones, their homes to see
no more,
The ocean waves did roll that day like they never done
before.
The
wind it blew a fearful force and no let up that day,
The boats were anchored on the grounds around Placentia
Bay:
When empty boats turned bottom up, and not a soul was
saved,
Some forty fishermen or more did meet a watery grave.
John
Follett in his little boat, about ten tons or more,
Was anchored on the fishing grounds, 'bout twelve miles
from the shore:
And when the gale began to rise, he made a run for the
nearest port,
But a heavy sea rolled over them, capsized their little
boat.
John
Follett and one of his sons, clung to the wreck that day,
For eighteen miles they drifted, exposed to wind and sea:
God spared the lives of those poor boys to tell the mournful
tale,
But his eldest son got drowned in that great August gale.
Danny
Cheeseman from Rushoon also went down that day
The boat was met with her two spars gone, 'bout half ways
in the bay:
To think on what they suffered, a stone would heave a
sigh,
There was three men clinging to the wreck, when Harris
passed her by.
He
tried his best to save them, but his boat she did mistay,
And with aching hearts, they were forced to part, and
run before the sea:
He done his best endeavour to see what he could do,
May the Lord have mercy on the souls of Dan Cheeseman
and his crew.
Another
schooner, branded new, built up in Mortier Bay,
Commanded by John Laughlin, from Red Harbour sailed away:
Since he was anchored on Cape Pine, to the westward of
the light,
He had a dory gone astray that dark and stormy night.
The
ANNIE from Fox Harbour, also went down that day,
With seven hearty fishermen, no more to plough the sea:
And all of them being married men, which made the loss
run high,
Excepting one, the skipper's son, he was a single boy.
There's six young widows left to mourn, I know them all
quite well,
With children small, no help at all, for to bear their
troubles well:
If God himself will lend a hand, look down on them I hope,
May the Lord have mercy on their souls, it was an awful
stroke.
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TOM
HICKEY
Tom
Hickey moved to Merasheen from Toslo in the early fifties,
a move which was made in consultation with a representative
of the provincial government who thought it was an excellent
choice for a man who wanted to make a living at the fishery.
He was also informed that funds were available to assist
with the moving expenses but he never did receive any.
Tom came to Merasheen with his wife Mrs. Mag and Mike
Young. Tom and Mike pursued the fishery in Merasheen until
resettlement again uprooted them in 1967 and they moved
to Placentia. Mike still returns to Merasheen annually
and earns his living from the fishery there.
In
these times when the feats performed by handicapped people
are publicized and highlighted, one appreciates more fully
the caliber of character of Mrs. Mag Hickey. Mrs. Hickey
was handicapped, when through an unfortunate accident,
she lost one of her arms. However, this handicap did not
deter her from living a full and extremely active life.
No one had a fuller garden of cabbage, turnips and other
vegetables than Mrs. Mag Hickey, no one could shear a
sheep more quickly and we all remember her drawing a bucket
of water out of the "big well" and carrying
it across the Jaw Bones. Furthermore, when we visited
her in late May 1980, to talk with her and get a picture
of Tom, she was preparing her garden for this year.
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FREDDY
LEONARD
Freddy
and his wife moved to Merasheen from St. Leonard's in
the early fifties. For most of his time in Merasheen,
Freddy made a living by working in the fish plant. His
son, Aloysius, also moved to Merasheen with his family
where Mrs. Margaret Leonard made a substantial contribution
to our education system as a teacher. Neither Freddy nor
his wife was alive at the time of resettlement program,
but for their few last years in Merasheen, they were truly
a part of our community, known and respected by all.
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THE
EASTERN LIGHT
(Billy
Wilson sang this song)
Most
sad was my misfortune I the year of '63
When I shipped on board a fishing boat caught on a drunken
spree
I shipped on board the Eastern Light, as you might understand
For to go out on the salty sea to the Banks of Newfoundland
Mike
Cloure being our shipper's name, a hero stout and bold
He had twelve other souls on board besides myself, all
told
We hoist up all our canvas when we left Gloucester port
And the girls they waved their handkerchiefs as we sailed
out of port
We
brought a jar of rum on board, which mustered all our
crew
We drank a health to Gloucester girls in bidding them
adieu
T'was east-be-south we steered, me b'ys, the Grand Banks
for to find
We being employed with our fishing gear some halibut to
destroy.
We
ranged around those foggy banks for the space of eighteen
days
We boarded a couple of Frenchmen but no brandy could we
raise
My curse on rum, and brandy, too, as I oftimes said before
Sure I might have lived the sober life, I might be still
on shore.
It's
early morning, our cook all up and bawls
"Get up and eat your breakfast boys, and then go
hawl your trawls"
We scarce have time to light our pipes when over our dories
go
We've got to make three sets a day, let the wind blow
high or low.
And
if you lose a mooring, a buoy-line or a knife
Indeed you will be charged with it and you might bet your
life
And if you come to stand night watch, be sure and stand
a bet
And if anything is missin' there, you'll find it on your
cheque.
On
the 18th of October, I heard our Captain shout
"Come hoist aboard your dories b'ys, and break your
anchors out
Our provisions are getting kind of scarce, we can no longer
stay
So give her great big Mainsail b'ys, and get her underway.
And
now our anchor's on our bow, our ship is homeward bound
And when we next reach Gloucester port, we'll hand the
glasses round
We'll go down to Johnny the Lower's and 'tis there we'll
spend the night
And we'll drink a health to the Gloucester girls, likewise
to the Eastern Light.
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MARTIN
CONNORS
Martin
is well remembered by all the people of Merasheen primarily
because of his uncanny skill at setting bones, repairing
fractures and bandaging cuts. Although he never received
any medical education, he could do his work as successfully
if not as gently as any medically trained person. There
were very few people in Merasheen who did not pay a visit
to this natural doctor at one time or another during their
lives.
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ARTHUR
O'BRADLEY
Arthur
was a lad out and bold
A lad about nineteen years old
Straight way to get married, they went
To marry an old milkmaid, they said
Me lamb, me lark, me lilly, me duck, come hither
And let us get spliced together
It is you I do mean for to wed
I'll indulge you one half of my bed
And my name is Arthur O'Bradley
Arthur
O'Bradley oh row
Dear Arthur O'Bradley oh
He
saddled his old gray mare
He loved her because she was fair
He chose her because she was good
The pride of any man's hood
She was such a bundle of bones
She was dicked and docked and fired
And seldom she would ever get tired
She was such a high bred rodney
A credit to Arthur O'Bradley
Arthur
O'Bradley oh row
Dear Arthur O'Bradley oh
They
went to the church to get married
The parson he shivered and shook
And he instantly hove down the site
But Arthur soon made him pick it up again
If you don't be quick with the job
I'll dam son scuttle your gob
And my name is Arthur O'Bradley
Arthur
O'Bradley oh row
Dear Arthur O'Bradley oh
The
dresses they had, they were good
The pride of any man's hood
They had sheep heads stewed in a lantern
And sea fish herring in dozens
To invite all your uncles and cousins
Right says Arthur my dear
This makes me feel mausy and queer
Me land, me lark, me lilly, me duck, and my daffey down
dilly
Did ever ye hear of the like?
That I should be blessed with a wife
And my name is Arthur O'Bradley
Arthur
O'Bradley oh row
Dear Arthur O'Bradley oh
Then
out stepped old mother crook
Twas she could heel and toe it
A mountain grew out of her back
You would swear she carried a sack
She had to take snuff with a prong
In the honor of Arthur O'Bradley
Arthur
O'Bradley oh row
Dear Arthur O'Bradley oh
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GEORGE
HEPDITCH
George
Hepditch was born in Merasheen and fished there all his
life. He had the last "smack" in Merasheen,
a constant reminder to many of the older folks of many
trips to St. Pierre for a drop of stuff. While telling
you about the rum he brought from St. Pierre for his own
use and for his friends, without ever declaring it or
going to a "port of entrance." George will swear
that he never did any smuggling. His point of course is
that he never made any money on it but took from his friends
only what he paid for the rum.
On
returning from one of his forays to St. Pierre, George
had a substantial supply of rum for his countless friends
and by some strange coincidence forgot to go into Presque,
the "port of entrance" in Placentia Bay, on
his way to Merasheen. On arriving home, he immediately
hid the rum by burying it in the puncheons of coal in
his stage and hid the bill of sale behind the Sacred Heart
picture in his house. However, someone reported him to
the authorities that immediately sent the cutter to Merasheen
to investigate. The cutter came to Little Merasheen and
on seeing her, Johnny Wilson went up to warn George that
they were after him. The authorities were close behind
Johnny and reached George before he could get the bill
of sale out of the house. They searched his premises and
found no rum and afterwards searched his house, looking
behind the Sacred Heart picture. However, they found nothing
since Mrs. Ellen, George's mother-in-law had taken the
bill of sale and put it down her bosom. Although they
found no liquor, George had to go to court and was fined
$360.00 for passing the "port of entrance".
The magistrate at the time was Tom Sullivan stationed
in Presque and George was due to bring the $360.00 to
him on August 15th. On August 14th Magistrate Tom Sullivan
passed away, so George will still tell you he never did
any smuggling and was never caught. However, he allows
he'll have to take a few dollars with him when he passes
to the other side in case he runs into Tom Sullivan.
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THE
IRISH SAILOR BOY
(This
was one of Lar Pitcher's songs)
My
parents reared me tenderly,
Of a low degree,
I was scarce 14 years of age,
When I shipped across the sea.
My
parents there, they shed salt tears,
As they first bid me goodbye,
From Waterford we sailed away,
Cried the Irish sailor boy.
We
were scarce 14 days at sea,
When a storm appeared at hand,
Our captain cried, look out my boys,
For we'll soon make the land.
We
scarce had time to speak our mind,
When to pieces went our mast,
Where some of us being young and smart,
We soon got safe on shore,
We only saw 12 of our crew, out of the 24.
We
rowed around the rugged shore,
Where the land looks high and steep,
We scarce could get a place to land,
The water was so deep.
We
walked along, that livelong night,
Along a foot path green,
And early the next morning,
St. Peter's Town we seen.
Where
we got bread and meat to eat,
Likewise a bed to lie,
We found kind friends in Newfoundland,
Cried the Irish sailor boy.
We
were put on board an Irish ship,
Bond to the Irish shore,
And if pleas God spares me my
Life, once more to get on shore.
I
sound the praise of Newfoundland around our Shamrock shore,
If please God spares me my life once more to get on shore,
I'll sound the praise of Newfoundland,
I will forever more.
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ALBERT
HEPDITCH
Albert
Hepditch was a quiet, hard working man who was born, lived,
and ended his days on Merasheen Island. Albert fished
with his brother George and later had a small decked boat
of his own. He also spent some years on the Cape St. Mary's
boats, including one year in the "Catherine Hann"
with Din Pat. Albert was married three times, two wives
having died early in life. After marrying Theresa Hynes
from Davis Cove, they raised a family of eleven children,
who like most of us left Merasheen under the resettlement
program.
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PADDY
BARNETT
Paddy
was born in Indian Harbour where his father had settled
after arriving from Ireland. When Pad was 9 years old,
his father died and he was sent to live with Mr. Jim Bavis
in Brule. He started fishing with Dick Ennis and Jack
Wilson, and in later years, fished with Jack Hann in the
"Lucy Ann". He was married in Bar Haven in 1911,
and settled on Soldier's Point, where he died at the age
of 62 years.
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HARRY
DUNN
(This
song was sung by Edgar Wilson)
I
once did know a charming lad, his name was Harry Dunn
His father being a framer, and Harry his only son.
He had everything he needed, a farm of splendid land.
But still he wanted to take a trial in the woods of Michigan.
The
morning that Harry was going away, his mother to him did
say
"Harry, dear, don't go away, don't from your mother
stray
Don't leave your poor old father, your brothers and sisters
three
For there's something seems to tell me, your face no more
I'll see".
As
Harry started on his way from Buffalo the next day
He hired with a lumbering man in Michigan far away
He worked away for three long months, and he often would
write home
Saying, "The winter will soon be over and then I
will go home."
One
morning as Harry rose from his bunk, no smile was on his
brow
He called his chum all from the door, whose name was Charlie
Dow
Saying, "Charlie, dear, I had a dream that filled
my heart with woe
Since I fear there's something wrong at home, and it's
there I think I'll go."
His
comrade only laughed at him, which pleased him for a time
Saying, "Harry, dear, you cannot go. It's time to
fall the pine."
They worked away till three o'clock, all on that fatal
day.
Till a hanging limb fell down on him and crushed him to
the clay.
His
comrades gathered around him, where he lay broken cast
Saying, "Charlie, dear, I am dying, my time has come
at last
Pick me up and take me down, and send my body home
To my poor old aging parents, why did I from them roam?"
So
early the next morning, as brilliant shone the sun
A man brought home the body of poor young Harry Dunn
And when his mother saw him, she fell dead on the ground
It was for the son she loved so much, her soul was heavenward
bound.
As
for his dear old father, he lingered for a while
But every day hereafter, he never was know to smile
In less than six weeks after, they buried that poor old
man
And now you can see the deathly curse of the woods of
Michigan.
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THE
FULFORDS
Paddy, Dinny and Mickey
A
Merasheen Song site could not be composed without making
mention of one of the top singing families on the island.
It seems that each and everyone of the Fulfords right
from the above-mentioned down to today's generation did
an exceptionally fine job on parties, etc. Bill and Fergus
were quite popular and of course, Trina, of the popular
Corey and Trina is carrying on the tradition as her father
and others in the family before her.
As
well as being superb singers, the Fulfords were all excellent
fishermen. They settled in the Island Cove and that part
of the harbour has always been associated with them. Not
only was it the location where they first lived, but it
remained their place of residence right up to the last
days of Merasheen as a community.
The
Fulford family still has a fisherman in the family, as
Raymond purchased a Cape Island longliner recently, and
returns to Merasheen each year.
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THE
CHARMING YOUNG WIDOW
( This song was sung by Leo Fulford and sometimes by Din,
Pat Fulford)
As
I lived in Vermont, one morning last summer
A letter informed me my uncle was dead
And also requested I come down to Boston
He left me a large sum of money he said
Of course I determined on making the journey
To site myself on the first class I would feign
Now had I gone second I'd have never encountered
The charming young widow I met on the train.
Scarce
being seated within the compartment
Before the first passenger entered the door
A female, a young one, all dressed in deep mourning
An infant in long clothes she gracefully bore
I sat down beside her and in conversation
Was freely indulged in with both till my brain
Fairly reeked with excitement I grew so enchanted
With the charming young widow I met on the train.
We
became so familiar, I ventured to ask her
How old was the child that she held at her breast
"Oh sir," she responded and into tears bursted
Her infant still closer she fondily pressed
"When I thinks of my child, I am well nigh distracted
Its father, my husband, my heart beats with pain".
As choking and sobbing laid her head on my waistcoat
Oh that charming young widow I met on the train
By
this time the train had arrived at the station
Within a few miles of the great one in town
Me charmer exclaimed as she looked through the window
"Good gracious alive, why there goes Mr. Brown
My late husband's brother, dear sir would you kindly
My best loved child for a moment sustain?"
Of course I complied and off on the platform
Stepped the charming young widow I met on the train.
Three
minutes alas! And the whistle it sounded
And the train began moving no widow appeared
I called out "Stop! Stop!" but they paid no
attention
With a snort and a jerk started off as I feared
In this dire dilemma I sought for the hour
Oh me watch, sure where was it and my, where's my chain?
My purse too, my ticket, gold pencil case, all gone!
Oh that awful young widow I met on the train.
I
told the conductor while dangling the infant
The loss I sustained but he doubted my word
He called two more officials and the lot gathered round
me
Uncovered the child, oh, how could I explain?
Behold 'twas no baby, 'twas only a dummy
Oh that crafty young widow I met on the train.
Beware
of those widows you meet on the railway
Lays their head on your shoulder and their tears fall
like rain
Look our for your pockets in case they resemble
That awful young widow I met on the train.
Caroline and Her Young Sailor Bold
(This
was one of Bill's most popular songs)
It's
of a rich nobleman's daughter,
Caroline is her name I am told.
Looking out from her drawing room window,
She admired a young sailor bold.
His
cheeks they did bloom like the roses
His hair was as black as coal.
Caroline she took him as her partner,
Stepped out with her young sailor bold.
I
am a rich nobleman's daughter,
Scarce twenty-five thousand in gold.
I'll leave my old father and mother
To wed with a young sailor bold.
Don't
you leave your dear father and mother,
For you know they're the best friends you'll find.
In sailors don't place your dependence,
They'll leave their true lovers behind.
I'll
never let anyone persuade me,
One moment and then I'll decide.
I'll dress like a jolly young sailor,
And then he won't leave me behind.
She
dressed like a jolly young sailor,
With trousers and jacket so blue.
Three years and a half on the ocean
She plied with her Willie so true.
Three
times with her love she got shipwrecked.
She always proved loyal and true.
Her duty she did as a sailor,
Went aloft in her jacket so blue.
Her
old father being a long time lamenting,
The tears like large raindrops did flow,
Till soon they arrived in Old England,
Caroline and her young sailor bold.
Oh
Father, dear Father forgive me,
And do not deprive me of gold,
And grant one request that I ask you,
To wed with my young sailor bold.
Her
old father he admired young Willie,
Because he belonged to the sea.
If life it is spared until morning
It's married this couple will be.
To
the church they went early next morning,
Got joined hands in wedlock I'm told,
And now they live happy together,
Caroline and her young sailor bold.
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CAROLINE
AND HER YOUNG SAILOR BOLD
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GULL
COVE
(This was one of Bill Fulford's many songs)
It
happened to be in the summertime
In the lovely month of June
When the birds were sweetly singing
And the fields were in full bloom
We hurried and got ready
To prosecute did go
To cod fish down in Gull Cove
Where the stormy winds do blow.
From
Placentia Bay we sailed away
I men from Petite Forte
Our fishing gear were cod traps
A voyage for to bring forth
But the cod fish it did fade away
Like it never done before
And we lost our ear in Gull Cove
Where the stormy winds do blow.
The
first three days we were down there
The weather it was fine
Until the next one it came on
It was another kind
We sailed over to St. Mary's
It was our place of rest
And mostly up in Riverhead
A place we love the best.
When
the weather it got better
Back to our gear did go
To the foaming strands of Gull Cove
Where the stormy winds do blow.
When
we arrived in Gull Cove
Our traps were in good order
Likewise our skiffs and all
No sign of fish meshed in our twine
And then we all did know
That t'would be a skunk in Gull Cove
Where the stormy wind do blow.
Bill
Emberley from Spencer's Cove
In the schooner the Village Bride
He anchored down in Gull Cove
Upon the foaming tide
If he had to go to the Southern Shore
He'd get a load you know
But he anchored down in Gull Cove
Where the stormy winds do blow.
The
schooner Madonna Hayden
And Tommy in command
He always got a saving voyage
Right here on Gull Pond strand
But as he left home the other day
He had no mind to go
To the foaming straits of Gull Cove
Where the stormy winds do blow.
The
schooner James and Mary
She's riding up ahead
And Captain James the other day
Unto his men he said
"There's no better sign today my boys
Than there were a month ago
And Gull Cove will defeat us
Where the stormy winds do blow".
My
song it only reaches
As far as Ladder Cove Point
And they can't be doing much up there
For they all look very buoyant
And perhaps they're getting fish up there
And don't want us to know
Because we're down in Gull Cove
Where the stormy winds do blow.
If
you want to know the composer
The man made up this song
My name it is John Hayes
From Parker's Cove belong
Or somewhere's there about
If you want more information
You must on find it out.
**Verse
four and five of this song may not be totally correct,
but we felt it is a song that should be included in the
best form we could manage.
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SOUP
SUPPER IN CLATTICE HARBOUR
(Fergus
sang this song at many a party)
On
the eighteenth of November as ye all will remember,
The day it been a fine one and frosty too you know;
As the evening kept advancing they kept teasing me about
dancing,
And to suit their foolish fancy I did agree to go.
I
knew I'd be accepted but really wasn't expected,
It been so long since I'd been to anything like this before;
Through the door I boldly entered, to the ballroom floor
I ventured,
I addressed the porter gently as I stepped inside the
door.
Five
cents was the admission and I'm sure it's no addition,
To add it all together the sum it was but small
And the old giant in the center with the fire red and
a renting.
And fire wood you know was plenty those logs were never
small
When
the boys got out dancing, I bet there was no prancing.
For every boy and girl had come to do the best the could:
Then someone made a blunder like a double clap of thunder,
But no one seemed to wonder, the sport was going good.
I
gazed around the building, it was really quite bewildering,
When something struck upon my sight a little space ahead:
I discovered it was an altar where Mass was oft times
offered,
But tonight its decorated with buns of daily bread.
Oh
the waiters they were seven, between ten and eleven,
You could bet they were funny, when the table it was set:
When the soup it started coming there were boys with boilers
running,
It made you all feel funny to see what you were going
to get.
The
table seated twenty and the soup you know was plenty,
The bread and buns went with it to make it all go good.
And what it was made out of there was no odds about it,
But no one seemed to doubt it for the taste it was quite
good.
When
the supper it was over, like a storm in the straits of
Dover,
The music never slackened and the dancers still held on:
The old women started dancing and in bunches they went
prancing,
I thought they were going frantic, we had a jolly time.
It
was four or five o'clock before anyone would stop,
They had another supper it was just as much or more:
And I'm sure it won't be eaten, no neither will it be
equalled,
And I'm sure it won't be beaten neither up nor down the
shore.
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AMELIUS
BEST
Amelius
was a good singer and dancer, always ready to step out
in a double or sing a song on a time, his favourite being
"Copper Will Turn Into Silver". Unfortunately,
we were not able to obtain this song, which would certainly
have made a most worthwhile contribution to this site.
Amelius was also a first class carpenter who played a
major role as a head carpenter in the building of the
fish plant in Merasheen. In February 1928 he married Effie
Ennis and raised a family of five children.
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MICHAEL
PITTMAN
Michael
was a good fisherman and a good singer, his favourite
song being "The Boy With The Curly Hair". Michael
was always a very outspoken individual, and once when
on a party up to Bill Ennis, he wanted to sing his song
but couldn't get a chance with the others who were singing.
Finally, Bill asked him to sing "The Boy With The
Curly Hair", to which Michael responded quite loudly,
"I'd sing you " the Boy With The Curly Hair",
if they knock of bawlin. How can anyone sing with them
bawlin?" He then got silence for his song. Another
of Michael's favourites was "The Black".
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THE
BLACK
A story I'll tell you it happened last evening
Of an eminent doctor who lived in Cork Town
Three Jolly Jack Tars that had been out larking
And fifty bright guineas he had to lay down
These Jolly Jack Tars and their mess mates being groggy
Their money all out and their credit far run
From Patrick St. to the Quay down they rambled
They were bent to procure it, their money for fun.
The
cook of the ship being one of the party
A smart lad he was and his color was black
With wit and contrivance he always was ready
And soon found a way to raise cash in a crack
Says he to the mess mates, I heard people talking
A corpse could be sold very easily here
So take me alive, wrap me up in my hammock
And sell me to buy either whiskey or beer.
The
sailors agreed and accepted the offer
Away to the house where the doctor did dwell
And into his ear they boldly did whisper
Saying Doctor we have got a corpse for to sell
A corpse, said the doctor, like a man in amazement
Oh where did you get it, come tell me I pray
If you'll bring it here, I'll buy it quite ready
And fifty bright guineas to you I will pay.
The
sailors agreed and accepted the offer
Away to the ship, oh they quickly retired
Come listen a while and pay great attention
And I will tell you what quickly transpired
They wrapped the poor black, tied him up in his hammock
A smart lad he was, oh most sturdy and strong
And in under his waist coat, by way or protection
A knife with a blade about a half yard long.
About
twelve o'clock when the streets were lonesome
The sailors went off with the black on their back
And into the house they boldly did venture
And in the back room they concealed the poor black
The doctor he paid the bold seamen their money
They told him their cook had died on the quay
And rather than have his dead body to bury
We sold him to you and he's out of our way.
The
doctor he got out his knife to dissect him
He came down the stairs with the tools in his hand
He opened the door and boldly he ventured
The Black stood before him with cutlass in hand
He opened the door and boldly did venture
A'thinking the corpse was in very rich prime
With a voice loud as thunder, the he approached him
Saying, dam your eyes doctor, I'll skin you alive.
The
doctor he ran like a man that was frightened
Straight up to the room where his wife she did lie
Saying, wife, dearest wife, oh where will you hide me
For I fear the Black devil is after my hide
His wife she got out and the doors she did bar them
She barred them so tight that he couldn't get in
Saying, husband, dear husband, leave off your dissecting
For fear the Black devil, he might come again.
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JOEY
PITCHER
Joey
came from Hopeall in Trinity Bay to go fishing with the
Besses and married Lucy Pomroy. He settled on "Dunn's
Point", which was in later years often called "Pitcher's
Point", in reference to Joey and his family who lived
there. Joey was regarded as the best skuller in Merasheen.
When he was building his house on Dunn's Point, he saw
Jack Fulford fall out of his moving motor boat almost
down to the "Fish Rock". He spotted Jack Fulford
about six feet under water and hooked him under the arm
with the pin of the skulling oar. Jack was unconscious
so he laid him across the taut and they revived him after
Joey got him ashore. When they brought him around, Jack
said, "When I go, that's the way I want to go - Drown!
It's just like going to sleep in a feather bed".
Some years after that, Jack Fulford was drowned whenhis
dory overturned in the narrows. However, he had gotten
a few years lease on life because of Joey Pitcher's skulling.
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THE
RUSTY OLD BARBER
(Lars Pitcher song)
A rusty old barber in London did live
And a rusty old shave for a penny he'd give
With a rusty old razor all covered with rust.
And he always kept waiting for those who gave trust.
With me down-down, me-ladder-down dee.
Now
it happened an Irish man chanced for to stray
Who hadn't been shaved for manys a day
He strode to the door and he said with a grin
"Will you give me a shave sir, and may I come in?"
With me down-down, me-ladder-down dee.
"No,
no", says the barber, "I do not give trust".
"Well, fate then", says Paddy, "It's this
time you must
For the devil a penny have I got to pay
Though I haven't been shaved for manys a day".
With me down-down, me-ladder-down dee.
"Come
in", says the barber, "Sit down in me chair,
And I'll shave your old grizzly old beard to a hair."
With the old rusty razor he then did begin
And the tears big as praities rolled down Paddy's chin.
With me down-down, me-ladder-down dee.
"Holy
murder!" shouted Paddy, "Now what are you doin'?
Be the Holy St. Patrick, me jaws you will ruin
I didn't come here to be shaved with a saw
Be the Hokey you'll tear the gums out of me jaw".
With me down-down, me-ladder-down dee.
Well,
I'll always remember till I go to me grave
To the hour of my death, that old rusty shave
You may talk about razors and shaves so slick
But for my part I'd rather be shave with a brick.
With me down-down, me-ladder-down dee.
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MICK
CASEY
Mick
Casey moved to Merasheen with his family in 1952, and
at that time, on the advice of a Provincial Government
representative, filled out an application form for a resettlement
grant. However, that was the last he heard of his application
or his money. Under a later resettlement program in the
late 60's, he moved to Placentia, where he now resides.
Mick was known for his stories and recitations, which
he told as only he could do. One of his famous recitations
is "The Private Still", which we were fortunate
enough to obtain.
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THE
PRIVATE STILL
An
exciseman in Dublin, when I lived over there
Fancied that a private still was being worked somewhere
He came in one morning and fancied that I knew
But never mind that, says he, "Mick, how do you do?"
"Oh, I'm very well your honor, but allow me for to
say
I don't know you at all, says I, but be that as it may!"
"I'm trying to find something out, assist me if you
will,
Here's fifty pounds if you will tell me where there's
a private still".
"Give me the fifty pounds says I, upon my word I
can
And I'll keep me word, the devil-a-lie, as I'm an Irishman".
The fifty pounds he did lay down, I pocketed the fee
"Now sir, button up your coat and straightway follow
me".
As I was walking up the street, a-talking all the while
He little thought I'd take him a-thunderin many a-mile
He said, "Tell me, how much further Mick, I'm getting
very tired".
I said, "Now let us have a car" and a jaunting
car we hired.
When we got in the car he says, "Come tell me Mick,
where is that blessed private still, don't take me for
a flak".
"A flak your honor, no sir! But hear me if you will
A I at once will tell you sir where there's a private
still.
My
brother is a soldier in the army he do dwell."
"Oh, the devil take your brother," says he,
"where is that private still?"
"Oh, yonder is the barracks and now it's close at
hand
And when we get up to the gate we'll see and hear the
band
And when the band stops playing, we'll see the soldiers
drill"
"To blazes with the soldiers," says he, "where
is that private still?"
"Half a minute more," says I, "I'll point
him out to you."
"There he is, old boy," says I, "standing
between them two"
"Who in the blazes do you mean?" says he
Says I, "Me brother Bill, they wouldn't make him
a corporals so he's a private still."
When the exciseman heard this, he wanted his money back
But I jumped in the car myself and off was in a crack
As he walked along the street, so much against his will
The people shouted, "Exciseman, did you find the
private still?"
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PHILLY
PITTMAN
Philly
Pittman was the oldest man ever known to live in Merasheen.
He was ninety-five years old when he died. Philly had
an accident when he was a younger man-cutting off his
toe in the woods. Cutting off one's toe wasn't so unusual,
but he was cutting wood down in Barry's Mash, which at
that time was a great stand of wood. It was only bog when
we grew up there. He lived in Philly's Bottom, from which
the place derived its name.
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THOMAS
J. HODDER
(This song could be heard anytime you got Phil or Joe
Casey together)
Attention
all both great and small
Those lines I will pen down
Concerning the Thomas J. Hodder
And the day she went aground
Being in the year of fifty-two
The date being March the eighth
The Hodder was commanded
By Captain Abraham Lake.
The Hodder is a splendid boat
About one hundred ton
A. Wareham is the owner and
She's always on the run
From Spencer's Cove to Boston
And many other ports
For the use of exportation
And also her imports.
She
left the port of Sydney
With a full cargo on board
Coal provisions and groceries
Combined made up her load
The next day leaving Burin
The crew were gay and bright
Not thinking any accident
Would happen in daylight.
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