Sarah
Orne Jewett, the celebrated author of The Country of the Pointed Firs,
was a native of South Berwick. She lived all her life in her father's
house by
the Great Works River, a tributary of the Salmon Falls River.
In this excerpt from an 1881 essay recounting her excursions on horseback, she
laments the degradation of the river she knew so well growing up.
.
nce, as you came close
to the river, you were sure to find fishermen scattered along,--sometimes
I myself have been discovered; but it is not much use to go fishing
anymore. If some
public-spirited person would kindly be the Frank Buckland of New England,
and try to have the laws enforced that protect the inland fisheries, he
would do his country great service. Years ago, there were so many salmon
that, as an enthusiastic friend once assured me, ‘you could walk across
on them below the falls;’ but now they are unknown, simply because
certain substances which would enrich the farms are thrown from factories
and tanneries into our clear New England streams. Good river fish are
growing very scarce. The smelts, and bass, and shad have all left this
upper branch of the Piscataqua, as the salmon left it long ago, and the
supply of one necessary sort of good cheap food is lost to a growing
community, for the lack of a little thought and care in the factory
companies and saw-mills, and the building in some cases of fish-ways over
the dams. I think that the need of preaching against this bad economy
is very great. The sight of a proud lad with a string of undersized trout
will scatter half the idlers in town into the pastures next day, but
everybody patiently accepts the depopulation of a fine clear river, where
the tide comes fresh from the sea to be tainted by the spoiled stream,
which started from its mountain sources as pure as heart could wish. Man has done his best to ruin the world he lives in, one is tempted
to say at impulsive first thought; but after all, as I mounted the last
hill before reaching the village, the houses took on a new look of comfort
and pleasantness; the fields that I knew so well were a fresher green than
before, the sun was down, and the provocations of the day seemed very
slight compared to the satisfaction. I believed that with a little more time we should grow wiser about
our fish and other things beside (277-78).
.
Sarah
Orne Jewett. "The White Rose Road."
Country By-Ways.
Boston and New York: Houghton
Mifflin, 1881. |