The Black Scoter delights in the salt-water pools adjacent to the sea, and the sheltered creeks on the coast, in which they find a refuge against storms. In these places they become the objects of the terribly destructive sport of which we are about to speak.
Two or three times during the winter, large placards exhibited in certain towns of the department of Hérault—at Montpellier, Cette, Agde, &c.—announce that large flocks of these birds (called foulques in the country) having settled down on some adjacent lake, a day's sport will be had with them on a given date. The day is turned into a real fête by the sportsmen, and an extraordinary concourse of people are brought together. Every one starts in the middle of the night, some in carriages, some in carts, and the most humble among them on donkeys or on foot. At daybreak they reach the margin of the lake. When arrived there, they embark in boats, each provided with a rower. At a given signal the whole flotilla puts off from the shore, and advances slowly towards that part of the lake in which the Ducks are to be found.
These unusual preparations are a cause of astonishment to the birds, which utter gentle cries of terror as they crowd together. The boats, however, hem them in on all sides, gradually contracting their circle so as to shut the birds up in an enclosed space. The Black Scoters, seeing the enemy advancing upon them, in their anxiety take to diving and plunging about. But, before long, being closely pressed, they spread their wings and take flight over the heads of their enemies. This is the signal for the commencement of the first volley. There is now no cessation in the resounding reports of the guns; for usually no less than five hundred sportsmen meet on the surface of a not very extensive lake, such as those of Mauguio or Palavas. The massacre lasts for some hours; in fact, these unfortunate birds, incapable of flying very far, are pursued from place to place by the pitiless boats, which are soon, like the bark of the venerable Charon, laden with the dead. When no birds remain on the lake, the boats return to the shore, rowing along the banks to hunt out the wounded. Three thousand of these birds will sometimes fall before the murderous guns in the space of a few hours. Almost as a matter of course, quarrels often arise among the sportsmen. The cause of dispute may be some bird which has been shot at from several boats at the same moment. These disturbances, which usually begin with shouts and abuse, from the warmth of the southern blood sometimes terminate fatally. In this sport tumult reaches its utmost pitch, and it is as productive of danger as of pleasure. Sometimes a boat capsizes, owing to the excessive eagerness of the rowers; sometimes a sportsman is wounded by an awkward neighbour, or two or three men fall into the water in trying to reach their prey. Such are the exciting scenes that I have often witnessed in my youth; they were the supreme delight of the boys of Clapas (Montpellier). The same sport is practised at Hyères, in the Var, and on the lake of Berre, near Marseilles.
On the coasts of Picardy, where the Black Scoter abounds during winter, very destructive means are used for their capture. Nets are stretched horizontally in the water, above the banks of shell-fish which the sea has left uncovered at its reflux, and on which these birds feed. When they dive to seize their prey they become entangled in the meshes of the net, from which they cannot escape.
The Black Scoter is also the object of individual sport when it does not arrive in these immense flocks. It is then shot from a boat like other water-fowl.
The Black Scoter makes but a poor figure on aristocratic tables. Its flesh, which is by no means tender, retains a very decided marshy flavour. In former times it was much sought after, but not exactly for its culinary qualities. The reason this bird was shown such preference was because people were permitted to eat it in Lent in place of fish.
The singular notions on which the Church of Rome founded this toleration—a toleration, however, which still exists in full force even at the present day—is as follows. The councils of the twelfth century permitted both the clergy and laity to eat Black Scoters during Lent because it was a generally-accepted idea, founded on the writings of Aristotle, that these birds were not produced from an egg, but had a vegetable origin. The learned of the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, seeing large flocks of these birds suddenly appear, while nothing was known whence they came, indulged in all kinds of conjectures to explain this mysterious fact. They attributed to them origins which were marvellous; one conjecturing that the feathery appearance in the ciliated tentacles of certain mollusks which inhabit the barnacle shell changed into Black Scoters; others imagined that these birds proceeded from the wood of rotten fir-trees which had been long floating about in the sea, or even from the fungi and marine mosses which cling to the débris of wrecked ships; others, again, went so far as to assert that the north of Scotland, and especially the Orkney Isles, produced a tree the fruit of which, falling into the sea, developed into the bird which was called Anser arboreus, in order to commemorate its origin: this bird they imagined was the Black Scoter.
The naturalists who gave expression to these transcendental views might certainly boast that they had Aristotle on their side; for this distinguished philosopher believed in the spontaneous generation of various kinds of animals. He asserted, for instance, that rats sprung from decayed vegetables, and that bees proceeded from the carcass of an ox. Who, for instance, is unacquainted with the fine episode of the fourth book of Virgil's Georgics, where this poetic fiction is related in beautiful verse?
As a matter of fact, however, Pope Innocent III., better instructed than Aristotle in this department of natural history, passed sentence on all these tales by forbidding its use during Lent; but no one, either in the monasteries, the castles, or the taverns, has ever looked at this interdict of the sovereign pontiff in a serious point of view.
This controverted question, however, met with an unexpected solution. Gerard Veer, a Dutch navigator, in one of his voyages to the north of Europe, found some eggs of the Velvet Duck. Being ignorant of their nature, he brought them home, put them under a hen, and, when they were hatched, the produce exactly resembled the birds which were asserted by the ancients to proceed from the decay of vegetable matter. Gerard Veer made the announcement that these birds bred in Greenland, thus affording a complete explanation of the absence of their eggs in southern countries.