In L.C. Humphries’s papers that we have at the museum there is an entire section devoted to alewives (herring). The arrival of alewives in the springs of the 1700 and 1800’s was eagerly awaited. They were both a welcome food source and for some a money maker.
In preparation for their arrival, all mills were required to draw down their mill ponds on April 10 so the alewives could reach Snipatuit Pond in North Rochester to spawn. In the distant past, the fish followed the Taunton River to the Nemaset River to Sampson Pond then Rockshire Pond into Quitticus Pond and then into a small stream that crossed N. Rochester Rd. and finally into Snipatuit Pond near the old Gerrish Farm.
Prior to 1798, the Mattapoisett River ran through a swamp and was impassable for the fish, but around that time the river was cleared enough to let small herring, about the size of a finger, to get through and make their way to the ocean. Those alewives would stay there for three years, and the ones not eaten by predators would go back up the river to spawn in Snipatuit Pond, their birthplace.
Herring were an important food source in early Rochester and residents were eager for April 15 and the annual run of herring. Each household was allowed one barrel of 400 fish and 10 shad. Family names would be posted on a list in three spots; at the tower on the Mattapoisett Weir, Church’s Mill and at Crapo’s Weir on Snipatuit Rd.
The alewives were tasty and much in demand. The town made money because those receiving a barrel of the fish needed to pay for the cost of counting, packing and delivering the fish. Often families that moved from Rochester sold their rights to the alewives, sometimes for as much as a dollar- a big sum of money at the time.
After the first run, fishing was allowed on Monday, Wednesday and Friday. On the rest of the days, the alewives were allowed to pass into Snipatuit Pond to spawn. This guaranteed plenty of fish for the future.
One man, Charles C. Ricketson, bought up as many herring rights as he could and had a booming business selling smoked herring to customers in New Bedford. Humphrey explains how Ricketson prepared the fish for sale. The herring were strung on a stick with their backs up. The eyes were carefully picked off (I guess no one wanted their food staring at them). With 12 fish to a stick, carefully spaced so none were touching, the sticks were put on racks and smoked. He worked both day and night preparing and packing the fish.
The picture here shows the equipment box belonging to Alewives Anonymous members as they prepare to set up the fish counter at the sluiceway at Snipatuit Pond. Today, with our warmer winters the herring arrive earlier; this year on March 15. The counter keeps track of the number of alewives as they pass into and out of Snipatuit. This year because of the high-water levels, some were able to sneak past the counter until adjustments were made.
There are no longer the many thousands of herring that surged up the river a hundred or more years ago and residents no longer line up to get their barrels of fish, but they are still a crucial part of the ecosystem. They provide a window into the health of our waterways and need protection. As Art Benner, President of the Alewives Anonymous, pointed out, herring are born to be eaten by bigger fish, mammals and birds. Most importantly, they are the main food source of the endangered roseate terns that nest on Bird Island.
By Connie Eshbach