June 15, 2018 — If U.S. politicians’ love affair with tariffs seems novel, it’s really the latest installment in an on-again, off-again romance. And it’s one that has been much more passionate in the past. In the decades after the Civil War, the “tariff question” was the biggest issue in American elections. On everything from wool to sugar, the U.S. government slapped steep fees on goods passing through its borders. These tariffs protected domestic industry and paid the government’s bills.
But sometimes tariffs also led to trade wars with America’s neighbor to the north. Today, America and Canada fight over dairy and aluminum. In the late 19th century, they fought over frozen herring—and these trade wars meant real violence. When T. Aubrey Byrne alighted from his train in Gloucester, Massachusetts, on the last day of 1894, he stepped into the middle of one such war.
Depending on who you asked, Byrne was either the Treasury’s best special agent, a man who had saved the government fortunes by uncovering massive smuggling rings—or he was a failed ranch hand and ex-newspaperman, a paranoiac who saw fraud in others’ honest toil. But his superiors at Treasury approved of the job he’d done breaking up operations to illicitly import sugar and Chinese laborers. Now Byrne sniffed another conspiracy: a plot by merchants and captains in Gloucester, the capital of New England fishing, to avoid taxes on fish from Newfoundland.
Every winter, a fleet from Gloucester sailed to the island—still a British colony—to fill their holds with frozen herring. At less than a cent apiece, herring would be eaten by humans or used as bait for the more lucrative cod and halibut fisheries. Starting with one entrepreneurial vessel in 1855, by the 1890s almost 100 ships each year went to Newfoundland from Gloucester. And each year tens of millions of spawning herring swam into the bay only to sail out of it.
