Chapter 6

By Kate Bentley and Beryl Archer

Yesterday I saw a most beautiful yellow finch in the hedgerow.  In the same hedgerow today I saw the first chaffinch a beauty.

During Mopsie’s childhood the herring industry was the engine that made Yarmouth go round.  It was not just the abundance of this fish that gave weight to the herrings claim as a treasure.  These were pre freezers and refrigerator days when storing fresh food for any length of time was a constant problem.  The herring, fatty and rich with minerals and omega oils could be preserved in salt, extending its life span and consequently dramatically expanding its marketability from mere local markets to far away countries such as Norway and Russia.  It was a manufacturers dream: availability, affordability, healthy, tasty and with a long consumer life.  Every herring was a guaranteed profit and it brought wealth and prosperity to the town.

The industry was seasonal:  Herring caught in the spring were dry and flavourless, by the summer they were getting better but it was in the autumn the herring reached its prime with vast shoals of these silver darlings swimming directly off the town.    During the day the passage of these mighty shoals was marked by the greedy cries of gulls and at night, by the phosphorescence would glow through the swirling masses of the swimming millions below.  Whilst above the water, the lights of a thousand drifting boats would cross the horizon.  Once the catch was hauled aboard, the hundreds of fishing boats that stalked the waters around Great Yarmouth would race back to port to be the first to unload, gut and sell the catch.  Speed was of the essence, the fish needed curing as soon as possible to prevent rotting and the herring merchants would be waiting with their boards on the quay to do their deals and claim the best.  

Pop Archer was a herring merchant, if a rather eccentric one.  The Archer family had built their fortune on the herring and they lived in a large, rather elegant house just back from the quay.  Pop would one day become Mopsie’s father-in-law, and my great grandfather, but in Mopsie’s early years he figured as a well-known character and object of amusement.   Indeed, stories of his antics have been passed down the generations and as children we used to beg Mopsie for tales of his adventures, she would hurumph and grudgingly recall his exploits.  Pop was a dreamer, an idealist, an individual and an inventor and he was one of the few people on this earth whom Mopsie suffered rather than enjoyed.  Judging by the stories she was written, she could see the humour in Pop’s behaviour and his obsession with the herring, but this understanding was balanced by exasperation at what she saw as his lack of responsibility towards his family; Mops saw Pop more as a child or an old aged delinquent than the respectable head of a large family.   Frustratingly, Pop had the potential to be a genius and but for a twist of fate could have been the first Captain Birds Eye.  His ideas on refrigeration were well before his time and he was one of the first people to invest in frozen foods.  He understood the benefits of preserving the herring and could see the consequential nationwide, even global impact of what it would mean to be able to freeze and transport all types of food.  Unfortunately frozen food was still very much in its infancy and this combined with Pop’s eccentric ways led to a disaster.   Pop’s business failed, he lost his credibility and was declared bankrupt.  As a consequence, his younger children, including his twelve year old son, Philip Archer, were forced to give up school and go out to work to support the family.  From a private education and the offer of a scholarship, Philip was suddenly reduced to loading smelly barrels of fish on the quay.  Philip Archer was intelligent and articulate with the potential of a future away from the fishing industry.  Mopsie felt this future had been taken away from him through the thoughtless actions of his father.  She valued family above everything and could not understand the mentality of someone who would risk their family over a silver fish.  She just wanted the best for Philip and her negative reaction to Pop is not entirely surprising  - Philip was to be her family; her husband and our Popsie.  

 I am separated by time and generations and the tales of Pop just make me smile.  In my view, I think every family should have a Pop.  But then I never met him, let alone had to live with him.