Chapter 1

Strange Ships Arrive in the Land of the Beothuk

The Beothuk met solemnly in council to discuss the strange sightings off the coast. Was this what had been prophesied? They discussed the stories handed down to them over the centuries. Their oral history told of tall white-skinned bearded people who had appeared in the northwest many years ago and then left suddenly. They had come over the horizon of the great sea, where no land was known to exist. They skimmed the water like birds swooping on the wing. The wise ones of those days of old had warned that others like them would come in the future. “When that happens, test out the spirits,” they had said. “Some of the newcomers will be sent by evil ones, beware of those who try to take possession of the land.”

The present apparitions were similar to the descriptions of those in the past, but they were much larger. They, too, floated on water like birds, but were monstrous. Their many wings snatched the wind and forced it to their bidding. When the wind struggled to escape, they snapped and scolded and held it fast. The noise was like tremendous slaps with a huge invisible stick that could be heard for miles. They travelled with frightening speed, and without fear, through the raging seas. Those who had seen them had felt weak with foreboding.

Were they from this world? Or were they beings from beyond the skies, that had landed far out in the ocean and glided towards these shores? Why had they come? The tribe sat around the ceremonial fire, robed in full regalia of feathers and red ochre, and chanted for spiritual guidance. They fasted, prayed for wisdom, and shared their visions. These beings were powerful spirits indeed, spirits who had to be placated. But, at the same time, the Beothuk had to take control of the extraordinary energy released by them.

As one old man spoke, the five six-foot tall shamanic emblems — symbols of the most sacred of beliefs — cast long shadows across the gathering. They knew then what must be done. With solemn respect, another carving was made in the shape of a great ship with two masts, and was set on an identical six-foot stave, along with the other five symbolic images. The carving was then anointed with red ochre and placed with the others before the chief’s mammateek (the Beothuk word for wigwam).

No one could guess that with the appearance of European sailing vessels on the horizon, the lives of the Beothuk would be profoundly altered, forever. Within 500 years, their coming would result in a path of destruction and in terrifying change for the inhabitants of the island until — at the end — not one would be left.

The first Europeans to come were adventurers and explorers. They were excited about the discovery of the New World, and curious about every aspect of it. Royalty and the powerful merchants the explorers represented waited impatiently for news. Were there magnificent treasures and boundless natural resources to be claimed and plundered? What minerals, timber, flora, and fauna would the new lands yield? Would they be comparable to European species? Would there be enough to replenish the depleting European resources that had been drained at an alarming rate by rapidly expanding populations? Were there magnificent treasures, towns, and castles? What troops would be needed to take them?

When no cities, castles, or empires were evident along the Atlantic seaboard of North America, it came as a huge and encouraging surprise. These unknown lands were obviously ripe for the picking. They had never been mapped and measured, nor had they been developed or improved by a civilized people. It was the duty of Christian men to undertake these tasks for king, for country, and for God.

It soon became apparent that no human beings lived in the New World either. Certainly there were human-like creatures, but they were thought to be so “savage” and their social organization so “primitive” that they were considered less than human. These “savages” knew nothing of oxen, horses, draft animals, ploughs, or wheels. They did not live in houses, but quickly threw up shelters as they moved from place to place. They did no useful work, but indulged themselves all day in the sport of hunting and fishing, just as if they were the idle aristocracy. These creatures were squatters, not worthy of the land they occupied.

The tribulations for the Native peoples began as early as 1498, with a series of abductions, when John Cabot carried some individuals off to England. He presented them to Henry VII and his court. Three years later another group was taken to England, this time by some Bristol merchants. And about the same time John Cabot’s son, Sebastian, arrived back home with “sundry people.” Friends and relatives of these Native people had no idea where their loved ones would be taken, apart from the fact that they had been forced aboard an alien ship manned by fierce strangely-dressed men, who spoke a garbled tongue and carried devastating weapons. They did know that their kinsmen would never be seen again.

Their European captors gave very little thought to the distress of their victims. They were mere curiosities. Dressed in skins, feathers in their hair, swarthy and foreign looking, the “Red Indians” titillated the imagination of whoever saw them. When displayed at court they could be counted on to amuse the courtiers, and when they were paraded in the marketplace the rabble would pay a few pence for the sight of them. Later, they could be used as slaves. A profitable enterprise, whichever way one looked at it.

The pace of abductions stepped up. In 1501, the Portuguese explorer Corte Reale captured 50 men and women and carried them off to Portugal and slavery. Similarly, the Spaniard Estavao Gomes took 58 captives back with him. In 1507, a French fishing crew grabbed seven people from a birchbark canoe off the east coast of Newfoundland. Only one survived, a boy, who was paraded before the court of Louis XI, the king of France.

Whether or not all these captives were Beothuk is not so important as the fact that these activities were widespread enough to cause deep alarm among the Native peoples. By the early 1500s, fishing crews and other newcomers entering the coastal waters of Newfoundland or Labrador noticed increasingly hostile attitudes. In 1529, Crignon, a French sea captain from Dieppe, reported that “a cruel and austere people with whom it was impossible to converse” populated the south coast of Newfoundland. It was impossible to converse largely because the Beothuk had learned that it was wiser to flee at the sight of a European. Unfortunately, the more elusive they were, the more enticing it became to catch sight of or, even better, to capture one of the inhabitants of this “New-Founde-Land.” The Beothuk became the target of popular interest from abroad. And in 1536, an Englishman, Hoare, organized a trip for a party of gentlemen who wanted to discover the “strange things” of the world.

The Atlantic crossing took more than two months. When they spotted “savages” on the shore (probably at Bonavista Bay), everyone on board wanted to see the “natural” people of the country. The crew launched a boat to capture some. The “savages” became alarmed and fled. The crew went ashore anyway, and rifled the camp. They found part of a bear roasting on a wooden spit, a decorated leather boot, and a winter mitten. When the Native people did not return, the disappointed gentlemen sailed off.

By the 1530s the New World’s early explorers were recounting stories of waters teeming with fish, of forests abundant with fur-bearing animals, and much more. This created a great stir of interest in Europe. Merchants from competing nations rushed to take advantage of the dazzling opportunities. Fishermen from England, France, Portugal, and Spain set out to find out for themselves. To their astonishment they found such vast stocks of cod off the Newfoundland coast that the waters were alive with leaping fish. The market was so lucrative that fishing vessels began to make annual voyages across the Atlantic to the Grand Banks. Soon there were fleets of ships, all fiercely competing with each other. The catches were sold in Europe where there was a great demand for dried fish. Once cod was cured it could be preserved for years, the perfect food for armies on the march. The fishing crews took over entire stretches of coast where the Beothuk had gathered food for centuries. They gave little thought to the people they displaced, other than to worry whether or not they might be dangerous.

The numbers of these intruders appalled the Beothuk. By the 1550s, up to 50 fishing boats could be seen plying the coast between May and October each year. Between them they carried approximately 1250 people. Their numbers were significant compared with the local Native people who, it is estimated, numbered only 1000 to 2000 at the most.

By 1594, the fleets more than doubled in size. Roughly 100 English ships were fishing along the Newfoundland coast, and the fleets of other European nations were, at times, even larger. It was bad enough that the fishing vessels controlled the fish stocks offshore. What caused the most friction with the Beothuk was that more and more fishermen came ashore. This prevented the Beothuk from accessing the plentiful seafood along the coast, seafood that was necessary for their survival.

The sojourns ashore came about because the English fishermen did not have access to large stocks of salt. The Portuguese and French did, and were able to process fish on board by heavily salting the flesh. The English were forced to cure their catches by a different method. This involved going ashore, splitting and lightly salting the fish, then drying them in the open air on flakes (wooden racks) until they were dehydrated enough to preserve them. These flakes on shore were semi-permanent structures. Large numbers of nearby trees were cut down in order to build them.

The Beothuk did not know what to do. All their experience with European ships told them not to go near the outsiders. When they realized that the fleets customarily sailed away around October each year, they began to retreat into the interior until the fall. Then they would move back to the shore until the ships arrived again in the spring. This definitely had an adverse effect on their seasonal pattern of gathering food, but they decided that it was not worth risking a confrontation. Each time the Beothuk returned they were excited to find rich pickings in the deserted tilts and stages. When the Europeans departed they sometimes dropped knives or left scissors and metal pots behind. Metals were a valuable discovery for the Natives, and they soon learned how to work them. By burning down the structures the Europeans had erected, the Beothuk were able to collect enough nails to fashion a variety of points, arrowheads, and tools.

When the fishermen returned each May and found the ruins, they were furious. It was expensive to ship replacement materials from Europe. In addition, reconstruction wasted time that could have been spent on fishing, and the season was short. They had left their possessions over the winter in the belief that they would be untouched. Weathered, perhaps, but not stolen or destroyed. This seemed to the fishermen to be another instance of the “savages” having no idea of moral values or proper behaviour. In Europe, stealing even minor items (such as a loaf of bread) was a serious crime that carried severe consequences. A thief might be punished by having a hand amputated, by being exported to a penal colony, or even by hanging. Stealing was no small matter.

What to the Beothuk was a windfall — wasted resources that should be scavenged — was to the Europeans an act of war. The fishermen were filled with fierce indignation and a desire for revenge. However, the Beothuk worldview was entirely different from theirs. Tribal cultures around the world have usually had a pragmatic attitude towards possessions. Their lifestyle, dependent on respect for the natural environment, required a frugal attitude. What could be used should be used, and not allowed to waste.

The pilfering by the Beothuk may have inadvertently helped to trigger settlement in Newfoundland, something the Europeans had initially decided not to undertake. Frustrated merchants began to station guards year round to fend off the Red Indians over the winter months. However, these fishing fleets often caused much more havoc for each other than the Beothuk caused. The various competing crews stole each other’s boats, removed the ownership marks, and cut them up for wood. They also burned or destroyed their competitors’ fishing stages, removed bait from nets or from boats at night, and set fire to the woods.

It is possible that a better understanding might have developed between the Beothuk and the fishermen if the Beothuk had been willing to trade in furs. In other areas, fishing vessels often seized the opportunity for additional income by trading goods for furs with the Native population. Whatever the reason, as early as the end of the sixteenth century the Beothuk generally ignored the chance to do this. Settlement on a small scale became increasingly desirable for the Europeans, although there was still a strong resistance by investors to allow a colony. The Basques created sealing and whaling stations along the northern coast, and monopolized this area. The French built a small fishing colony at Plaisance on the south shore, with fortifications, a garrison, a governor, and several hundred people. The English developed small outports to protect their fishing interests on the southeast coast.

The Beothuk were increasingly dismayed by the invasion of their territory. The best chance for maintaining their lifestyle and living in peace seemed to be withdrawal. Newfoundland was a large island and the interior, with its swampy barrens and dense forests, was difficult to reach for people not used to the terrain. In time the Beothuk pulled out of the Avalon Peninsula so completely that the English came to believe that they had never lived there. This was such a predominant belief that, as late as the fall of 1994, archaeologists were astonished to find Beothuk artifacts under the ruins of one of the major English colonies, at Ferryland.

When the first ships were sighted, 200 years earlier, the Beothuk had been afraid that the ancient prophecies might be upon them. Why were the Beothuk so afraid? To protect the tribe from the consequences of mixing with evil invaders, generation after generation had been indoctrinated from birth. They were taught that any Beothuk who fraternized with wicked spirits (now understood to be white people and Mi’kmaq) must be burned to death at the stake. This ritual of collective purification was so solemnly revered that the punishment continued even beyond death. Once cast out from the tribe, the spirit of the condemned one was forever denied access to the Beothuk lands of the dead. Captive Beothuk agonized over the dilemma this presented. If they had been taken prisoner (through no fault of their own), would they still be outcast? What if the English tried to return them to their tribe?

As time went on, settlers who would have liked to establish friendly relationships with the Beothuk found their attempts almost inexplicably blocked. They were never able to understand why, and as the tribe’s numbers dwindled, frantic attempts were made to contact them.