In the following year, 1566, the firm at Antwerp sent Simon van Salingen with two ships to Munkfjord, where he arrived late in the spring, and they made him fetch the ship that had been left at Malmis by Cornelius Simonsen. Salingen then loaded all the three ships—partly at Munkfjord, partly at Keervagh (Kjorvaag or Kjervan, a harbour at the western entrance of the Bumandfjord on Fiskerö)—with as much fish-oil, salmon, and other goods as were suitable for export to Antwerp. He hired on his own account two lodjer from the monks, and laded them with his goods and sailed for Malmis. Here he met Cornelius Simonsen who had just returned from Moscow. They travelled, together with their goods, through Russia during the winter as far as Moscow, and traded with the inhabitants.

At a later period it would seem that the monastery entered more especially into commercial connection with Amsterdam. A treaty has been found which was concluded between a firm in that town and the monks of Petschenga. The agent of the firm was named Andrew Neich. He went every year to Munkfjord with a large ship laden with barrels of salt, in order to take on board, and bring back to Amsterdam, the fish they had caught. The convent had pledged themselves ‘for six years to sell to Neich all the red fish (salmon), and not to sell to anyone else the fish taken in draught-nets or in rivers; and in like manner not to lease or sell the fishing in the sea for sjomga (salmon), cod, or cod blubber, or whale blubber, but on the contrary they were to be held bound to bring to them (the merchants), to their storehouse (factory), the fish from Kola and the river Tulom. If the chief of the monastery, or the Brothers, kept back or sold them to others, the chief of the monastery was to pay a hundred roubles.’ In addition to this, it was also arranged what the quality of the fish contracted for was to be. ‘And the Superior and convent are not to deliver any “tinda” or “waltschak” (presumably smaller kinds of sea-fish); broken, damaged, or stale salmon; damaged, stale, raw, half-dried cod; or salmon of less than 7½ lb. weight. And if any fish is delivered under 7 lb. weight, two such fish are to be taken in place of one; but of fish from Tiriberka, whether large or small, two are to be reckoned as one, and none are to [[27]]be accepted of less than 4 lb. weight.’ Then several other kinds of fish are mentioned. As to the price of the fish there was a still further arrangement that they were to give ‘ten roubles for 100 salmon, or twenty good jefimker’ (Dutch silver money). The period appointed for receiving the fish was from May 10 to July 20. The merchants were bound to leave salt and barrels at Kola, so that the agent at that place would deliver these to the fishermen. ‘If the fish from lack of salt, or vat, were spoilt, the Amsterdam merchants were still bound to accept them, and to pay the same price as for good fish.’ The fish were to be paid for at two terms: ‘the first term was St. Peter’s Day, and the second term July 20; the one half in roubles, and the other half in jefimker, and one jefimke was reckoned as half a rouble.’

From the ship the Brothers of the monastery obtained all that they needed or required in the way of goods, partly for their own use, and partly for trading purposes with the inhabitants of those parts, or, indeed, for exporting again to St. Nicholas, Cholmogor, Wologda, and Jaroslav. Thus, no doubt, they obtained no inconsiderable supply of corn, since they had built a mill for themselves. In addition to the goods which the firm at Amsterdam had to send according to requisition, Neich was also bound to bring with him, as a donation and gift to the monastery, ‘1 pud [32 lb.] of incense, 2 pud of wax, 1 cask of red church wine, as well as two casks of brandy, and one firkin of Rhenish wine.’

The monastery in its time carried on no inconsiderable whale fishery. It is distinctly stated that the monastery ‘should be free of taxation for exporting whale blubber.’ The train-oil was exported to other parts of Holland as well as to Amsterdam. The Dutch people were themselves carrying on at this time a whale-fishery, both in Norwegian Finmark, where they had a special place of resort at Sörö, and along the coast of Russian Lapland. At that time the Greenland whale was found along the Norwegian and Russian coasts, or, at any rate, a kind of whale which could be somewhat easily killed with the harpoon. A loose harpoon was mostly employed. Whenever a whale was encountered, they hurled one or more harpoons at it, and these had the owner’s name marked on them. Then the whale was allowed to go its way. Sometimes it escaped and was never seen again; but generally it died, and was thrown up on [[28]]the shore at one point or another, but most frequently in the Mutkatfjord, where even at the present day whales are frequently stranded high and dry.

The people attached to the monastery soon got information of the reappearance of the harpooned whale, and took possession of it, for, according to their prerogatives, they alone had the right to all flotsam and jetsam.

In such ways the monastic establishment, in the course of about fifty years, developed into a very important colony, which must have had an extraordinary influence in the civilization of those parts, in a wider extension of the fisheries, and in the foundation of several towns, if it had continued to prosper, and had not, as the sequel will show, come to such a sudden and unexpected end.

In no respect does the improvement of the inhabitants appear to have been the object of the labours of the brotherhood. Certainly they christened or baptized the Lapps, so that they could no longer be called heathens, but that was all. Not a word is said as to any schemes for their education and civilizing. The priests of the Greek Church, even at the present day, take no trouble to teach the people. The Russian Lapps, therefore, as a rule, cannot even now either read or write, while among the Norwegian, Swedish, and Finnish Lapps there are but few who cannot do both.

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