The Herring Quines

From the late 1850s until the Second World War, between 6,000 and 10,000 women (many young, mostly Scottish) led a nomadic existence for seven (sometimes more) months of the year, travelling to the Shetland Islands or the Western Isles for the opening of the Herring season and then following the fleet south, traversing the Moray Firth to Aberdeen, onwards to Hartlepool, Grimsby, Hull, Scarborough and on to where most would end the season in Great Yarmouth and nearby Lowestoft — the centre of the Herring industry at the time.

With the Scots of other fishing-trades and the men of the herring fleets it was estimated that the town hosted an additional 40,000 workers from September to December. It was said that you could walk across Yarmouth’s great harbour from deck-to-deck of the Scottish boats.

Life was tough and the Herring Lassies or ‘Quines’ worked — usually outdoors — until the entire catch was cleared, often 14 or 15 hours a day. The method of preserving the fish was known as the ‘Scotch Cure’ and involved gutting and removing the gills with one movement of the sharp knife (‘futtle’) and packing the fish in a barrel between layers of salt. In truth, this method was actually the ‘Dutch Cure’ and — and as illustrated by the New York Times in 1886 carrying a report of the 500th anniversary — it had taken an age for the British to recognise the potential. The long-gutting of each fish literally took just one second. The sharpness of the knives and the constant contact with salt meant wounds were frequent and extremely painful. Since the Lassies could not take time off to heal, they bound their fingers with cotton (‘cooties’) to protect them.

Early Lassies and those working the isles travelled by boat, with conditions the same as the cattle which crossed with them. Crossings were often rough and they were not provided with lifejackets. The coming of the railways in the 1860s made life a little easier and the thousands would travel en masse. Annie Watt of Peterhead (1892-1978) who started work as a Herring Lassie aged 13, and first travelled to Yarmouth aged 15, recalled,

“When we came to Yarmouth and Lowestoft we used tae come down by train . . . Ye never went to sleep. All the guttin’ crews would be singing and dancing. We used to have small spirit lamps and make tea in the train. Oh it was fun. Ye never felt the time. I wish it was those days now.”

Annie would marry a Yarmouth man and settle there as many of the women did.

The industry hit a peak in the years immediately prior to the First World War. Since 80% of the fish were exported to Germany, Poland and Russia the war decimated trade. A significant element did survive the war although even this was hit again when the Bolsheviks cancelled Tsarist era foreign debts and again when Germany suffered the 1923 currency crisis, and many Scottish and English producers went bankrupt. By 1936 there were an estimated 2,000 Herring Lassies following the fishing. That same year the Lassies staged a strike and won an increase in wages, In 1938 they successfully struck again, this time in protest against English boats Sunday working.

This radical activism was entirely in character for these strong and independent women. Interestingly it is also evident among their counterparts in Iceland where the Herring Girls who unionised in 1920 and first went on strike in 1925 are credited with a significant contribution to ending the vestiges of serfdom and achieving universal suffrage. They hold a similar place in the history of Scandinavian and Baltic states.

For all of the privations, the Herring Lassies preferred their lot to the limited alternatives open to poor women of the time. They could earn more than domestic servants who left home for a big house in the city; they were not subjected to the kind of class discrimination and misogyny which was commonplace, and they had an unparalleled network of support and comradeship.

It’s a common belief that our ancestors had limited experience of travel beyond their immediate horizons. None more so than the women. This is just one example of how little we appreciate or understand even our closest, particularly the poor and rural ones.