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I'rinted for Sa/nuel Batfster, Strand ^SoS.

THE

COMPLETE ANGLER 5

OR.

Contemplative Mans Recreation.

A DISCOURSE

ow

RiVEiis, Fish-ponds, fism, and fishing.

IN TWO PARTS:

THE FIRST WRITTEN BT

Mr. ISAAC WALTON ;

THE SECOND BT

^_^ CHARLES COTTON, Esq.

WITH

THE LIVES OF THE AUTHORS:

AND
NOTES, HISTORICAL, CRITICAL, SUPPLEMENTARY AND EXPLANATORY |

By Sir JOHN HAWKINS, Knt.

HonTion :

PRINTED FOR SAMUEL BAGSTER, IN THE STRAND.

1808.

ADVERTISEMENT.

THE Complete Angler having been written so
long ago as 1653, although the last publication thereof,
in the life-time of the authors, was in 1676 ; con-
tains many particulars of persons now but little
known, — and frequent allusions to facts, and even
modes of living, the memory whereof is in a great
measure obliterated : a new edition, therefore, seemed
to require a retrospect to the time when the authors
lived; an explanation of such passages, as an in-
terval of more than an hundred years had necessarily
rendered obscure; together with such improvements
in the art itself, as the accumulated experience of
succeeding times has enabled us to furnish.

An edition, undertaken with this view, is now
attempted, and in a way, it is to be hoped, that
may, once again, introduce the authors to the ac-
quaintance of persons of learning and judgment,

039

C ii ]
All that the editor requests in return for the pairis
he has taken, is, that the reader will do him the
justice to believe, that his only motives for the re*
publication of this work, were— a desire to per-
petuate the memory of a meek, benevolent, pious
man, and, to contribute something to the improve*
ment of an art of which he professes himself a lover,

Atrll 10, 1760.

ADVERTISEMENT

TO THE

SIXTH EDITION.

IN consequence of the death of the former edi*
ioty sific6 the publication of the fourth edition of
this work in 1784, the revision of the present has
devolved upon me, his son. For the execution of
this oflGice^ he had left behind him some corrections
and additions, inserted in the margin of his copy
of the fourth editioci; which, though not many,
have been all made use of on this occasion, from
a wish that the book might receive the advantage
of his last corrections. Such of them as he had
completed, had been silently adopted, but such as
■were nothing more than mere hints, I have reduced
into form, and distinguished them by the initials,
J. S. H. and where these latter are continuations
of former notes, have precisely marked where they

C iT 3
stopped in the fourth edition, by placing the initials,
J. H. I have, however, in no instance, varied from
the last of the editions, published in his life, ex-
cepting where it was warranted by some memorandum
of my father's, or by communications from intel-
ligent friends since his decease, being myself wholly
unacquainted with the subject.

As the plates ha^e^ in consequence of the num"
her of impressions furnished from them for the pre*
ceding editions^ become so worn as to be no longer any
ornament to the work, it has been found necessary
to OMIT them* Such of them, however, as repre^
sent the materials for fishing (and which, fortu-
nately, had sustained less injury,) have been re-
tained; and for the omission of the rest, all
possible amends have been made, by printing the
book with a better type, and on better paper than
could otherwise have been aflforded.

J. S. H.

ADVERTISEMENT

TO THE

SEVENTH EDITION.

THIS impression of the Complete Angler differs from the last, in
the followiog particulars :

1. Sir John Hawkins having left minutes on the margin of his
eopy of the fourth Edition, which at once convey authority, and
serve as materials io a careful Editor to correct some errors, and add
to the information in Sir John's part of the work; it seemed a false
delicacy to leave his evident designs imperfectly executed by the in-
compendious expedient of a note upon the text, or a note upon a note,
Hot uniformly reaching io all the paragraphs affected by the original
mistake or deficiency ; — in this Edition, therefore, the new informa-
tion has been incorporated with fidelity, and instead of apprising the
Reader that particular statements are errors, they have been radically
corrected.

2. The original plates to Hawkins's Edition— consisting of repre-
sentations of fishes, illustrative and local views, and a head of Cot-
ton— at the time of printing the last Edition, that become so worn
that it was found necessary to omit them ; new plates have therefore
been engraven to illustrate the present Edition,— and these are not
copied from former plates, but have been engraven after the original
drawings of Mr. Wale, and other original pictures. But the sketch
of Mr. Cotton's fishing-house, and the view of Pike-pool, by Mr.

»3

C vi 3

Smith, as well as the -wood cut of the fishb^-bouse, having been
found inaccurate, Mr. Samuel has favoured the publisher 'with a
finished drawing of Pike-pool, and a sketch of the Fishing-house,
taken by himself on the spot, in the year 171)0. Nor are the En-
gravings of Fishes copied from the plates of any preceding Edition j
they are, in general, actual portraits of Fish which have been re-
cently captured ; and the traits of character in each species, diver-
sified as the shape cf each, the artist has endeavoured to seize*
Former Editions were accompanied with a head of Cotton singly:
the portraits of Walton and Hawkins ; and also of Dr. Donne, Sir
Hen. Wotton,.Mr. Rd. Hooker, the •' Divine Herbert," and Bishop
Sanderson, of whom biographical sketches are given in the Life of
Walton, are naw for the first time introdaced. Beneath the frontis-
piece of portraits, is copied the Autograph adverted to in a note on
pa. 68 ; for which pnrposc, I* S. Hawkins, Esq. in whose possessioa
it is, obligingly lent it to the Publisheis The Engravings, vrithout
an exception, are by Mr. Philip Audinet.

3> The looseness and inadequacy of the punctuation having gives
various passages in the former impressions an enigmatical air; par-'
ticular pains have^ in this, been taken with the points, in the confi-
dence that Walton may be rendered every where perspicuous by a
ptinctuation accommodated to his stjle.

4. In the Life of Walton, several interesting particulars, and
one essential piece of information, the fruit of the sabseqoeut re-
tearches of Dr. Zoucb, are given on his authority.

5. Additional Notes from esteemed Writers on Angling have been
inserted. And see, at the end of Chap. V. Part I. pa. 200, Notice
of another alteration intended as an improvement*

d. The Index has been rendered more methodical, as well as
enlarged.

81, Strand,

1808,

C 7 J

THE

LIFE

OF

MR. ISAAC WALTON-

THE excellent Lord Vernlam has ndted it, as one
of the great deiiciences of biographical historv, that
it isj for the most part, confined to the actions of kings,
princes, and great personages, who are necessarily few ;
while the memory of less conspicuous, though good
men, has been no better preserved, than by vague
reports, and barren elogies *.

It is not therefore to be wondered at, if little care
has been taken to perpetuate the remembrance of
the Person who is the subject of the present inquiry ;
and, indeed, there are many circumstances that seem

♦ De vitls cogitantem subit qu«dam admiratio, tempora ista nostra
baud nosse bona sua; cum tarn rara fit commemoratio et conscriptio
vitarum, eorum, qui nostro seculo claruerunt. EtsI enim reges, et
qui absolutum principatum obtineant, pauci esse possint ; principes
etiam in republica libera (tot rebuspublicis in monarchiam conversis)
haud multi; utcunque tamen non defuerunt viri egregii (licet sub
regibus) qui meliora merentur, quani incertara et vagam memoriae su»
famara aut elogia ^rida et jejuna.

De Augmentit Sdcnttarutny lib. II. cap. 7-

a 4

10 LIFE OF WALTON.

deprived, and died in retirement. Walton seems (or
have been as happy in the married state, as the society
imd friendship of a prudent and pious woman of great
endowments could make him; and that Mrs. Walton
was such a one, we may conclude from what will be said
of her hereafter.

- About 1643 he left London, and with a fortune very
far short of what would now be called a competency *,
seems to have retired altogether from business ; at
which time (to use the words of Wood) ^^ finding it
'' dangerous for honest men to be there, he left that city,
** and lived sometimes at Staflford f , and elsewhere ;
'^ but mostly in the families of the eminent clergymen
" of England, of whom he was much beloved J.

While he continued in London, his favourite recrea-
tion was angling, in which he was the greatest profi-
cient of his time ; and indeed, so great were his skill
and experience in that art, that there is scarce any
writer on the subject since his time, who has not made
the rules and practice of Walton his very foundation*
It is therefore with the greatest propriety, that Lang-
baine calls him, " the common father of all anglers §.'*

The river that he seems mostly to have frequented for
this purpose, was the Lea, which has its source above
Ware in Hertfordshire, and falls into the Thames a
little below Black Wall |l ; unless we will suppose that
the vicinity of the New River f to the plac« of his ha-
bitation, might sometimes tenipt him out with his
friends, honest Nat. and R. Koe, whose loss he so
pathetically mentions**, to spend an afternoon there.

In the year 1362 ^ he was by death deprived of the
solace and comfort of a good wife, as appears by the

* See his fVil/, at the end of the Life. ,

f He retired to a small estate in Staffordshire, not far from the town of
Stafford. His loyalty made him obnoxious to the ruling powers ; and we
are assured by himself, in his Li/e of Sander son^ that he was it sufferer m
the civil wars. Zoueh.

\ Athen. Oxon. Vol. I. 305.

§ Lives of the English Dramatic poets , Art. Cba, CottoNrEsq,

II See page 317, n.

<5 That great work, the bringing water from Chadwell and Amwell,
in Hertfordshire, to London, by means of the trench called the New Ri-
ver, was completed on Michaelmas day, 161 3. Stow*5 5«rv<fy,foi.l633,p. 12*

** Preface to GompUtc Angler*

LIFE OF WALTOW.

11

following momimental inscription in the chapel of Our
Lady, in the cathedral church of Worcester.

Exterris
D.
M. S.
Here lyeth buried
so much as could dye
of Anne, the wife of Izaak Walton ;
Who was a Woman of remarkable prudence,
and of the Primitive Piety ;
her great, and general, Knowledge
being adorned with such true Humility,
and blest with so much Christian Meekness
as made her worthy of a more memorable monument
She dyed (alas that she is dead !)
the 17th of April, 1662, Aged 52.
Study to be like her.

Living, while in London, in the parish of St.
Dunstan in the West, whereof Dr. John Donne, dean
of St. Paul's, was vicar, he became of course a fre-
quent hearer of that excellent preacher, and, at length,
(as he himself expresses* it,) his convert. Upon his
decease + in 1631, Sir Henry Wotton (of whom mention
will be made hereafter) requested Walton to collect ma-
terials for a Life of the doctor^ which it seems Sir Henry
had undertaken to write p but Sir Henry dying before
he had completed the life, Walton undertook it himself;
and in the year 1640 finished, and published it, with
a Collection of the doctor^ s sermons^ in folio. As soon
as the book came out, a complete copy was sent as a
present to Walton, by Mr. John Donne the doctor's
son, afterwards doctor of laws : and one of the blank
leaves contained his letter to Mr. Walton ; the letter is
yet extant, and in print §, and is a handsome and

* Verse t of Walton at the end of Dr, Donne's Life.

f Walton attended Dr. Donne, in his last sickness: and was present
when he consigned his sermons and numerous Papers to the care of Dr,
Henry King, who was promoted to the See of Chichester in \QA\.
Zoucb.

\ See Rel'tquta IVottoniante^ Octavo, 1685. p. 360.

§ In IPcqW* Detidtrata Curma, Vol h Lib. VI. p. 24, In the year

If tIFE OF WALTON.

grateful acknowledgment of the honour done to thtf
memory of his father.

Doctor King", afterwards bishop of Chichester, in a
letter to the author, thus expresses himself concerning
this life : ^' I am glad that the general demonstration
** of his [Doctor Donne's] worth was so fairly pre-
*' served, and represented to the world, by your pen^
" in the history of his life ; indeed, so well, that
'' beside others, the best critic of our later time, Mr.
*^ John Hales of Eaton, affirmed to me, he had not
'* seen a life written with more advantage to the subject,
" or reputation to the writer, than that of Doctor
'< Donne*."

Sir Henry Wotton dying in 1639, Walton was ira-

Eortuned by bishop King to undertake the writing his
rife also; and, as it should seem by a circumstance
mentioned in the margin, it was finished about 1644f .
Notwithstanding which, the earliest copy I have yet
been able to meet with, is that prefixed to a Collection
of Sir Henry's Remains, undoubtedly made by Wal-
ton himself, intitled Reliquiee JVottoniancey and by
him, in 1651, dedicated to lady Mary Wotton, and her
three daughters ; though in a subsequent edition in
1683, he has recommended them to the patronage of a
more remote relation of the author, namely Philip
earl of Chesterfield.

The Precepts of Angling — meaning thereby the Rules
and Directions for taking Fish with a Hook and Line
—till Walton's time, having hardly ever been reduced
to writing, were propagated from age to age chiefly by
tradition : but Walton, whose benevolent and communis
cative temper appears in almost every line of his writ-
ings, unwilling to conceal from the world those assistances

1714, the very book, with the original manuscript letter, was in the
hands of the Rev, Mr. Borradale, rector of Market-Deeping, in the
county of Lincoln.

* Bishop King's Letter to Walton before the Golltction ef tht Lives, inf
1670.

f ltiscert^ln thdit Hooier's Life was written about 1664, and Walton
says, in his Epistle before the Lives, that " there was an interval of twenty
*« years between the writing of Hooker's Life and Wotton s^ which file*
«« the date of the latter to 1644."

LIFE OF WALTON.

IS

which his long practice and experience enabled him,
perhaps the best of any man of his time, to give, in the
year 1653, published, in a very elegant maimer, his,
Complete Angler^ or Contemplative Man's Recreation^
in small Duodecimo, adorned with exquisite cuts
of most of the fish mentioned in it. The artist who
engraved them, has been so modest as to conceal his
name: but there is great reason to suppose, they are
the work of Lombart, who is mentioned in the
Sculptura of Mr, Evelyn ; and also that the plates
were of steel.

And let no man imagine, that a work on such a
subject must necessarily be unentertaining, or trifling,
or even uninstructive ; for the contrary will most evi-
dently appear, from a perusal of this excellent piece,
which— whether we consider the elegant simplicity of
the style, the ease and unaffected humour of the dialogue,
tlje lovely scenes which it delineates, the enchanting
pastoral poetry which it contains, or the fine morality
it so sweetly inculcates — has hardly its fellow in any of
the modern languages.

The truth is, that there are few subjects so barren as
not to afford matter of delight, and even of instruction,
if ingeniously treated : Montaigne has written an essay
on Coaches^ and another on Thumbs ; and our own na-
tion has produced many men, who, from a peculiar
felicity in their turn of thinking, and manner of writ-
ing, have adorned, and even dignified, themes the
most dry and unpromisuig. Many would think that
time ill employed, which was spent in composing a
treatise on the art of shooting in the long bow ; and
how few lovers of horticulture would e3^pect entertain-
ment from a discourse of Sallads! and yai the ToxophU
lus of Roger Ascham, and the Acetaria of Mr. Evelyn,
have been admired and commended by the best judges
of literature.

But, that the reader may determine for himself, how
much our author has contributed to the improvement
of piscatory science, and how far his work may be said

14 LIFE OF WALTON.

to be an original, it will be necessary for him to take a
view of the state of angling at the time when he wrote ;
and that he may be the better able to do this, he will
consider, that, till the time of the Reformation, although
the clergy, as well regular as secular — on account of
their leisure, and because the canon law forbad them
the use of the sanguinary recreations of hunting, hawk-
ing, and fowling — we re the great proficients in angling,
yet none of its precepts were committed to writing ;
and that, from the time of the introduction of print-
ing into this kingdom, to that of the first publication of
Walton's book, in 1653, an interval of more than one
hundred and fifty years, only five books on this subject
had been given to the world : of the four latest, some
mention is made in the margin*; but the first of that
number, as well on account of its quaintness as antiquity,
and because it is not a little characteristic of the age
when it was written, deserves to be particularly distin-
guished. This tract, intitled. The Treaty se of Fi/S'
shynge wj/th an Anglcj makes part of a book, like

* " A booke of fishing with hooke and line, and of all other instru-
*' ments thereunto belonging. Another of sundrie engines and traps to
** take polecats, buzzards, rats, mice, and all other kinds of vermine and
" beasts whatsoever, n\pst profitable for all warriners, and such as delight
•* in this kind of sport and pastime. Made by L, M. 4to. London, 1590,
« 1596, 1600."

It appears by a variety of evidence, that the person meant by theie
initials was one Leonard Mascall^ an author who wrote on planting and
grafting, and also on cattle. Vide^ infra^ Chap. IX.

Approved experiments touching Fish and Fruit, to be regarded by the lovers of
Angling, by Mr. John Taverner, in Quarto, 1600.

The Secrets of Anglings a poem, in three books, by J. D. Esq. Octar6,
1613. Mention is made of this book, in a note on a passage in the en-
suing dialogues : and there is reason to think, that it it the foundation of
a treatise, intitled, The whole Art of Angling, published in Quarto, 1656,
by the well known Gervase Markham, as part oih'is Country Contenttnentsy
or Husbandman s Recreations, since he confesses, that the substance of his
book was originally in rhime. Of Markham's book, a specimen is given
in a note on page 102.

Barter'' s Art of Angling, printed i»v 12mo. in 1651, and again in 4to.
in 1653. A third edition was publisher! in 1659, under the altered title
of Barkm's Delight, or the Art of Angling, See Accounts of the Author,
infra.

LIFE OF WALTON. 13

many others of that early time, without a title; but
which, by the colophon, appears to have been printed
at Westminster, by Wynkyn de Worde, 1496, in a
small folio, containing a treatise on hawking ,- another,
on huntings in verse,— the latter taken, as it seems, from
a Tract, on that subject, written by old Sir Tristram,
an ancient forester, cited in the Forest Lams of Man-
wood, chap. iiii. in sundry places ; a book wherein is
determined the Lygnage of Cote Armures ; the above-
mentioned treatise o/J?5^/w^/ and the method of Bla^
synge of Armes,

The book printed by Wynkyn dc Worde is, in truth,
a i-epublication of one known, to the curious, by the
name of the " Book of St. Alban's/* it appearing by the
colophon to have been printed, there, in 1486, and as
it seems, with Caxton's letter*; Wynkyn de Worde's
impression has the addition of the treatise Q/*^s^iWg-;
of which only, it concerns us to speak.

The several tracts contained in the abovementioned
two impressions of the same book, were compiled by
dame Julyans (or Juliana) Berners, Bernes, or Barnes ;
prioress of the nunnery of Sopwell, near St. Alban*s ; a
lady of a noble family— and celebrated, for her learning
and accomplishments, by Lcland, Bale, Pits, Bishop
Tanner, and others. AikI the reason for her publishing
it, in the manner it appears in, she gives us in the fol-
lowing words: Snti for bg mxfuz t^at tl^is prejsent ttnttat
j5|)0Hie not come to t\)Z l?on"Dp0 of cc?>e ptile persone to^pci[)e toottjf
tiC0ire it, pf it tocre emptBnteti allone ht iteelf anu put in a Igtgll
plaunaet ; tijerefoye 31 Ijaue compvlgu it in a creter uolume, of
tJKuetee bo&ge conccrnpnce to ccntgl! anH notle men, to t?je entenc
tl)at fi^z forsagH pDIe peraonea toijcc^je sljoOie fjaue h\xt lEtgll me*
0ute in ti?e eapti Ug0pojte of fgfi^l^gnce, sDoHje not bg tW meane
litterlK tJHfrtro^e it.

And as to the treatise itself, it must be deemed a great

* Vide Biograph'ta Britanuicaf Art. Caxton, note L, wherein the
author, Mr. Oldys, has given a copious account of the book, and a cha«
racter of the lady who compiled it.

16 LIFE OP WALTON.

typographical curiosity, as well for the wooden sculp-
ture copied from thence, and here exhibited,

and which in the original immediately follows the title,
as for the orthography and the character in which it is
printed. And, with respect to the subject matter
thereof, it begins — With a comparison, of fishing ; with
the diversions of hunting, hawking, and fowling,—
which the authoress shews, are attended with great in-
conveniences and disappointments ; whereas in fishing^

LIFE OF WALTON. 17

if his sport fail him, tf^e angler, says she, me tfje feejSt, f)atf>
|>i0f)ol0om toalfie, anti merp at |)ii3 ea^e, a sttiete am of t^e stoett
»auoute of t|)e meetje floures, t^at ma6gt|j |)im Ijuncrg ; |>e |)eret|»
t|)e meloligou0 armong of fotoleg ; ^e eeet^ tfje ponge jstoanne/j,
J?ceron0, tiucfie^, cotee, anti manp otfjer fotDles, togtl) tfjepr broties;
tti|>pc|;e me semptf) tetter t|>anallet|)e nop0e of ^ountipe, tl)e blaster
of |>om20, antJ t^e gcrge of fouli0, t|)at !?unter0, fato5etter0, ant»
(ouler0 can maSe^ anti if t|je Angler ta&e f200f)e ; 0urelg, t|;enne,
10 f|)ere no» man merier t^an |)e i0 in ^(0 0P2rgtef

at the beginning of the directions. How the angler is to
make his harnuys, or tackle, he is thus instructed to provide a
Rod : anTi l^otn ge af^all male gour rotJtJe craftir, j^ere 31 s^all
iec|)e jou» Pe 0|>a« figtte bettoeene ^nci[?elma0 anU CantiElma0,
a fapr 0taffe, of a fatiom anti an Ijalfe longe anti arme»crete, of
|>a0pli, togirotDe, or a0pe ; antJ bet^e fjgm in an ijote oupn, anti 0ette
i>pm t\xtn% ti>enne, lete l^gm cole anti tjrge a monet|>* ^a&e
tl^enne ann frette • tjgm, fa0te, togtl) a coe&e0l)Ote cortie ; ann
^pntie |>Hm to a fourme, or an tntn 0quare grete tree* ^a&et
t|?enne, a plummer'0 toire, t^at is znen anti 0treete, antJ 0l)arpe at
t^e one entje ; anti fjete t^e 0|;arpe entie in a c!)arcole fpre tglf it 6e
tofjjte, anti brenne t^e 0taffe tljertopt^ ^orug^, euer 0treHte in ti^t
VVX^z at ^ot|)e 0ntie0, tpH tljeg mete : anti after tf^at brenl^e ^gm in
^e netljer entie toEtf) a bgttie broclje f anti topti^ ot][)er broc|)e0,
ccf^e gretter tl^an otK^er* ant) euer t^e grette0t t^z {a0tet 00 t{)ac
se mafie gour |)ole, ape, tapje toejce* ^Ijenne lete |?gm Ipe 0t2ir,
anti fiele ttoo tia2e0 ; unfrette j |)gm t^jenne, anti lete ^pmtirpe in an
|)0Ui9 roof, in ^e 0mo&e tnll j^e be t|)rugt) tirpe* In ti^e 0amr
«ea0on, tafte a fapr gertie of green |ja0Hn, anti httlf \txm twtn anti
fitrepg|)te, anti lete it Urge toitf) t|>e 0taffe ; anti tol^an t!)eg hzn tirge,
male tf?e gertie mete unto tfje ??oIe in tl)e0taflre unto Ijalfe t|)e Jengt^
of tifz 0taffe ; antJ to perfourme t^at ot|)er Ijalf of tl?e croppe,— tafte
a fagr 05ote of blacft tijornn, craBbe tree, metieler, or of jengpre,
ftgtte in ti)e 0ame 0ea0on, anti toell betljgti anti 0treggf>te, anti
frette tijegm toggtier fetefg, 000 tf?5t t^z croppe mage ju0tlg entre
afl into ^z 0agti ?)oIe ; ^enne 0!)aue gour 0taffe, anti mafte ijgm
tapre toejce; tf^en tjgrell t^e 0taflfe at botlje entie0 toitf? long limn
of gren, or laton, in tlje clenne0t toi0et togtf) a IPgfte at t\fz netfjet
cntie, fa0tngti toiti; a renngnge tgce, to ta&e in anti out gour croppe ;
^enne 0et gour croppe an ^antifuH toit|)in a^z ouer entie of gour

• i. e. tye it about : the wbstantive plural, frets of a lute, i» formed •£
this verb.
t Abird-8pit, \ t/pt^^it.

B

18 LIFE OF WALTON.

0tafet in mtf^t toise t^nt it Be a0 Bicae t|)ere a/s in on^ Qt^tt pfacf ~
about : tljennc atme gour croppe at tl?ouer enUe, tJohme to t^e
frette, toptlj a I^ne of tj |)eere0, anti tiubbe tfje Igne, anti fmte it
facte in t|?e toppe to^tf? a botoe to fasten on ?our Igne ; antJ t^ua
0|)aII ^e ma&e rou a rotme 000 pjetj^, t^at pe map toal&e t^eitopjj ;
anti t^eie cfjall noo man tonte toi^ere abolote pe coo*

Speaking of the Barbel she says : 'Sfje Barbjpn 10 a 0tDetr
ft00|?e; but it i0 a Qua0p meete, anti a perpllou0 for mannga
fcoUg* ifor, comrnlp, |)e geurt|^ an introtiupon to t^e febrecj
anti gf |)e be eten ratoe *, |)e ma? be cau0e of mamtgis liet|)f,
to^tt^t l?at|) oft be 0een» And of the Carp, tjjat it i0 a Uegn-
tou0 fg00l)e, but t|)ere ben but fetoe in ©nglontie* Slnti tf^ejefore
3( totBte t|)e Ia00e of Ijpm* l^e 10 an eugll fg00|?e to tafee* IFot
|;eei0 000 0tronce enarmpti in t^t mout^e, tl^at tii^ere mape noo
toefie |)amap0 i)Olti |)pm*

Snti a0 toucl^^nce i)i0 ba?te0, 31 l)at}e but {ptglf gnotoletiae of
iu antJ toe toete lot^ to tDtpte more tfjan 31 ftnotoe ahn fjatjf
yrou^ti^ IBm toelf 31 toote^ t|}at t|)e rente toorme ann ^e menoip
ben coon ba2tp0 for Ij^m at all t2me0, a0 31 iJabe Ijettie 0aEe of
peK0one0 creUgble, anti al0o fountie tnrpten in boEte0 of credence f*

For talking the Pike this lady directs her readers in the
following terms, 17 /"a

IJTa&e a coWgnce f)0&e ; anti tafie a Eoc|je, or a fre00|je ([?ee-
ipnc; anti a tope tept|) an 5oIe in t^t entie, anti put it in at t^t
moutj), anti out at t|je taplle, tiotone be t|je ritice of ti)t titsfs^e l^ee-
t^nc ; anti tf^enne put t^t Ipne of pou^ ^ofte in after^ anti tiratoe ^e
|>o&e into tf)t t^the of tlje fre00|?e |)eerrnc; t|?en put a plumbe of
iene upon ^our Ipne a pertje lonce from pour Ijofee, anti a flote in mpti
toape bettoene ; anti ca0te it in a pptte to^ere t|?e JPp&e ucptj) : anH

• The utage of the fourteenth century, at which this caution is levelled,
cannot at this day hut fill us with astonishment. What is it to manducatis
and take into our stomachs the flesh of any animal without any kind of
culinary preparation, but to feed like canibals! The refltction on this prac-
tice operated so strongly on the mind of the Hon. Robert Boyle, that he
speaks in terms of abhorrence of the eating of raiv oysters^ in a book enti-
tled, ^if/f«r/;o;7j, &c. which hereafter will be mentioned.

The nearest approach, excepting the instance above, which in this ag«
of rational refinement we make to the savage practice that gives occasion
to this note, is the eating of salted or pUkUd herrings or anchovies ; but for
this it may be said in excuse, that there may possibly be in salt some prin-
ciple similar, in its operation on certain bodies, to^r^ ,- at least, we find
that the purposes of culinary fire are sufiiciently answered in the process of
curing herrings.

f Considering the time when this book was written, we may cooclude^
that these could be hardly any oth^r than Monkish manuscripts.

LIFE OF WALTON. 19

^is i0 t|>e htm anti moost must crafte of talpnce t^e IPpfee*
amjtfjer manere tafepnge of |>pm tt^cre 10 : ta&e a fro00^c*, anti
put it on pout |>o&e, at t|)enecle, bettoene t|je gitpnne anti t^e boTip,
on tfje bac6e l^alf, anti put on a flote a ^exHt t|?crefro, anti ca0te it
to^ete t|?e IPpfie Ijauntgti), anti pe 0!?all Ijaue |)pm» ^notl)tt manere ?
^afie t|)e 0ame barte, anU put it in a0a fetitia, anti ca0t it in tf>e
toater topt|? a cortie anti a corfie, anti pe 0^all not fapl of l^pm* 9nti
£f pe Ip0t to ^aue a cooti 0porte, t|?enne tpe t|)e cortie to a co0e fote ;
anti pe 0^1 st gotie ^jalpnge, toDctf^er tt)z co0e or t^z IPg&e 0f?all
liatje ^e better.

The directions for making flies, contained in this
book, are, as one would expect, very inartificial : we
shall therefore only add, that the authoress advises the
angler to be provided with twelve different sorts ; be-
tween which and Walton's twelve f , the difference is
so very small, as well in the order as the manner of de-
scribing them, that there cannot remain the least doubt
but he had seen, and attentively perused, this ancient
treatise.

The book concludes wilh some general caution?,
among which are these that follow ; which at least serve
to shew, how long Angling has been looked on as an
auxiliary to contemplation.

2100 pe 0|)aII not U0e t|)i0for0a5tj craftp tJg0porte, for no couetp0e-
ne0, to tfje encrea0pnce anti 0parHnce of pour monep oonlp ; hut
prpncppallp for pour 0olace, anD to cau0e ti)e ^elt!)e of pour botip,
anti 0pecpaHp of pour 0oule : for tol^anne pe purpoo© to coo on poui
Iip0porte0 in fp00i)pnce, pe tool! not tie0pre cretip manp per0on0
topt^ pou, tol)pf|)e mpfl!)te lette pou of pour came* anti tfjenne pc
map 0erue fl5oti, tiejuototlp, in 0apence aflfectuou0lp poure cuetumable
praper + ; anti, t$ii0 tiopnoe, pe 0ljaU e0C|)eiDe anti tooptie manp
bice0«

But to return to the last menlioned work of our au-
thor. The Complete Angler : it came into the world |l
attended with Encorniastic Verses by several writers of
that day J and had in the title page, though Walton

• Or Frog. Minsheu's DUtionary.

t ride, in/ray Chap.V.

t A note of the pious simplicity of former times, which united prayer
with recreation.

[ y On inspection of thejirst edition of Walton, this appears to be a mi».
take : the Commiadatory Verses, sent to compliment the Author on the ap-
pearance of the first, were not prefixed till the second edition.]

b2

20 LIFE OF WALTON.

thought proper to omit it in the future editions, this
apposite motto:

" Simon Peter said, I go a fishing; and they said,
^^ we also will go with thee." John^l. 3,

And here occasion is given us to remark, that the cir-
cumstance of time, and the distracted state of the king-
dom at the period when the book was written, reaching
indeed to the publication of the third edition thereof, are
evidences of the author's inward temper and disposition;
for who — but a man whose mind was the habitation of
piety, prudence, humility, peace and chearfulness —
could delineate such a character as that of the principal
interlocutor in this dialogue ; and make him reason^ coU'
template^ instruct ^ converse, jest, sing, hndrecite verses,
with that sober pleasantry, that unlicentious hila-
rity that Piscator does ? and this, too, at a time when
the whole kingdom was in arms ; and confusion and deso-
lation were carried to an extreme sufficient to have excited
such a resentment against the authors of them, as might
have soured the best temper, and rendered it, in no small
degree, unfit for social intercourse *.

If it should be objected, that what is here said may be
equally true of an indolent man, or of a mind insensible
to all outward accidents, and devoted to its own ease and
gratification, — to this it may be answered, that the per-
son here spoken of was not such a man : on the contrary,
in sundry views of his character, he appears to have
been endowed both with activity and industry ; an in-
dustrious tradesman, industrious in collecting biographi-
cal memoirs and historical facts, and in rescuing from
oblivion the memory and writings of many of his learn-
ed friends : and, surely, against the suspicion oUnscn"
biliti/ HE must stand acquitted, who appears to have
had the strongest attachments, that could consist with

* This kind of resentment we cannot better estimate, than by a com-
parison thereof with its opposite affection, whatever we mny call it;
which in one instance, to wit, the restoration ©f king Charles II. had 6»ch
an effect upon Mr. Oughtred, the mathematician, that, for joy on re-
ceiving the new* that the parliament had voted the king's return, he ex-
pired.

LIFE OF WALTOl^. SI

christian cbarity both to opinions and men ; to epis-
copacy, to the doctrines, discipline, and the liturgy of
the established church; and to those divines and others
that favoured the civil and ecclesiastical constitution of
this country,— the subversion whereof, it was his mis-
fortune, both to see and feel. Seeing, therefore, that
amidst the publick calamities, and in a state of exile from
that city, where the earliest and dearest of his connec-
tions had been formed, hc^ was thus capable of enjoying
himself in the manner he appears to have done ; patient-
ly submitting to those evils, which he could not prevent,
—we must pronounce him to have been an illustrious ex-
emplar of the private and social virtues, and upon the
whole a wise and good man.

To these remarks, respecting the moral qualities of
Walton, I add, that his mental endowments were so con-
siderable as to merit notice ; it is true, that his stock
of learning, properly so called, was not great ; yet were
his attainments in literature far beyond what could be
expected from a man bred to trade, and not to a learned
profession ; for let it be remembered, that — besides being '
well versed in the study of the hol^ scriptures, and the
writings of the most eminent divines of his time — he ap-
pears to have been well acquainted with history, eccle-
siastical, civil and natural, to have acquired a very cor-
rect judgment in poeiry : and by phrases of his own
combination and invention, to have formed a style so
natural, intelligible, and elegant, as to have had more
admirers than successful imitators.

And although, in the prosecution of his design to teach
the contemplative man the art of angling, there is a
plainness and simplicity of discourse, that indicates little
more than bare instruction, — yet is there intermingled
with it wit and gentle reprehension : and we may, in
some instances, discover, that though he professes him-
self no friend to scojfins^, he knew very well how to deal
with scoffers, and to defend his art, as we see he does,
against such as attempted to degrade it; and particularly
against those two persons in the dialogue, Auceps and
Venator — who affected to fear a long and watery dis-
course in defence of his art — the former of whom he puts

B 3

59 LIFE OF WALTOW.

to silence, and the other he converts and takes for hit
pupil.

What reception in general the book met with, may
be naturally inferred from the dates of the subsequent
editions thereof; the second came abroad in 1655, the
third in 1664, the fourth in 1668, and the fifth and last
in 1676. It is pleasing to trace the several variations
which the author from time to time made in these sub-
sequent editions, as well by adding new facts and disco-
veries, as by enlarging on the more entertaining parts
of the dialogue: And so far did he indulge himself in
this method of improvement, that, besides that in the
second edition he has introduced a new interlocutor, to
wit, Auceps, Si falconer, and by that edition, gives a
new form to the dialogue ; he from thence takes occa-
sion to urge a variety of reasons in favour of his art^
and to assert its preference, as well to hawking, as, hunt-
ing* The third and fourth editions of his book have
several entire new chapters; and the fifth, the last of
the editions published in his life-time, contains no less
than eight chapters more than the firsthand twenty pages
more than the fourth.

Not having the advantage of a learned education, it
may seem unaccountable that Walton so frequently
cites authors that have written only in Latin, as Ges-
ner, Cardan, Aidrovandus, Rondeletius, and even Al-
bertus Magnus ; but here it may be observed, that the
voluminous history of animals, of which the first of
these was author, is in effect translated into English by
Mr. Edward Topsel, a learned divine; chaplain, as it
seems^ — in the church of St. Botolph, Aldersgate — to-
Dr. Neil, dean of Westminster. The translation was
publishetl in 1658, and — containing in it numberless
particulars concerning frogs, serpents, caterpillars,
and other animals, though not of fish, extracted from
the other writers above-named, and others with their
names to the respective facts — it furnished Walton with
a great variety of intelligence, of which in the later
editions of his book he has carefully availed himself: it
was therefore through the medium of this translations
alone, that he was enabled to cite the other authors

LIFE OP WALTON. 2f

mentioned above ; vouching the authority of the ori-

final writers, in like manner as he elsewhere does Sir
'rancis Bacon, whenever occasion occurs to mention
his Natural History^ or any other of his works. Pliny
was translated to his hand by Dr. Philemon Holland,
as were also Janns Dubravius De Piscinis S^ Pis->
cium naturd, and Lebault's Maison Rustique, so often
referred to by him in the course of his work.

Nor did the reputation of the Complete Angler
subsist, only in the opinions of those for whose use it
was more peculiarly calculated ; but even the learned,
feither from the known character of the author, or
those internal evidences of judgment and veracity con-
tained in it, considered it as a work of merit, and for
various purposes referred to its authority : Doctor
Thomas Fuller in his Worthies, whenever he has occa-
sion to speak of fish, uses his very words. Doctor
Plot, in his History of Staffordshire, has, on the
authority of our author, related two of the instances of
the voracity of the Pike, mentioned Part I. Chap. 8. ;
and confirmed them by two other signal ones, that had
then lately fallen out in that country.

. These are testimonies, in favour of Walton's autho-
rity in matters respecting fish and fishing. And it will
hardly be thought a diminution of that of Fuller, io
say, that he was acquainted with, and a friend of the
person whom he thus implicitly commends; a fact
which the following relation of a conference between
them sufficiently proves.

, Fuller, as we all know, wrote a Church History,
which, soon after its publication— Walton-Shaving read
•*— applied to the author for some information touching
Hooker, whose Life he was then about to write. Upon
this occasion Fuller, knowing how intimate Walton was
with several of the bishops and ancient clergy, asked
his opinion of it, and what reception it met with aroon^
his friends f Walton answered, that ** he thought it
** would be acceptable to all tempers, because there
*^ were shades in it for the warm, and sunshine for those
** of cold constitution : that with youthful readers,
*^ the facetious parts would be profitable to make the
*' serious more palatable, while some reverend old read-

B 4

24: LIFE OF WALTON.

** ers might fancy themselves in his JUsfort/ of the
*' Church as in a flower garden, or one full of ever-
*' greens." — ' And why not,' said Fuller, * the Church

* History so decked, as well as the Church itself at a

* most holt/ season, or the Tabernacle of old at the feast
^ of boughs,* '^ That was but for a season," said Wal-
ton ; '' in your feast of boughs, they may conceive, we
*' are so overshadowed througliout, that the parson is
*' more seen than his congregation, — and this, some-
*' times, invisible to its own acquaintance, who may
*^ wander in the search till they are lost in the laby-
*' riiith.'' — ' Oh,' said Fuller, * the ver^ children of
^ our Israel may find their way out of this wilderness.'—
*' True," replied Walton, '' as, indeed, they have
<* here such a Moses to conduct them *."

To pursue the subject of the Biographical Writings
— about two years after the restoration, Walton wrote
the Life of Mr, Richard Hooker^ author of the Ec"
clesiastical Polity. He was enjoined to undertake this
work by his friend Doctor Gilbert Sheldon t, after-
wards archbishop of Canterbury ; who, by the way,
was an angler. Bishop King, in a letter to the author J,
says of this life ; " I have often seen Mr. Hooker
*' with my father, who was after Bishop of London ;
** from whom, and others at that time, I have heard
*^ most of the material passages which you relate in
'' the history of his life." Sir William Dugdale,
speaking of the three posthumous books of the £ccle»
siastical Polity^ refers the reader '* to that seasonable
^' historical discourse, lately, compiled and published,
'' with great judgment and integrity, by that much-
*' deserving person, Mr. Isaac Walton §." In this
life we are told, that Hooker, while he was at college,

* From a manincript Collection of diverting tayings, stories ^ characters ^
fife, in verse and prose^ made about the year 1686, by Charles Cotton, esq.
some time in the library of the earl of Halifajt. Fide Biographia Britan-
nica, 2061, note P. in margine.

The editors of the above work have styled this colloquy a ivitty confa-
hulation^ but it seems remarkable for nothing but its singularity, vtrmch
consists in the starting of a metaphor, and hunting it down.

f Walton's Epist. to the reader of tie Lives y in 8vo. 1670.

I Before the Lives.

§ Short View of the late Troubles in England, fol. 1.681, pag. 3^

Frinttd for Sanuul Saffster.Strand .

LIFE OF WALTON. 25

made a visit to the famous Doctor Jewel, then bishop
of Salisbury, his good friend and patron : An account
of the bishop's reception of him, and behaviour at hi»
departure — as it contains a lively picture of his simpli-
city and goodness, and of the plain manners of those
times — is 2^iven in the note*.

The Life of Mr. George Herbert, as it stands the
fourth and last in the volume wherein that and the
three former are collected, seems to have been written
the next after Hooker's: it was first published in duo-
decimo, 1670. Walton professes himself to have been
a stranger as to the person of Herbert + : and though he
assures us his life of him was a free-will oiSering j^, it
abounds with curious information^ and is no way infe-
rior to any of the former.

Two of these Lixes ; 'oiz. those of Hooker and
Herbert, we are told, were written under the roof
of Walton's good friend and patron. Dr. George Mor-

* " As soon as he was perfectly recovered from this sickness, h«
*♦ took a journey from Oxford to Exeter, to satisfy and see his good
♦• mother; being accompanied with a countryman and companion of
** his own college, and both on foot ; which was, then, either more is
" fashion-^r want of money, or their humility made it so: but oa
•* foot they went, and took Salisbury in their way, purposely
" to see the good bishop, who made Mr. Hooker and his com-
** panion dine with him at his own table; which Mr. Hooker
•' boasted of with much joy and gratitude, when he saw his mother
" and friends. And at the bishop's parting with him, the bishop gave
*♦ him good counsel, and his benediction, but forgot to give him money,
" which, when the bishop had considered, he sent a servant in all
« haste, to call Richard back to him: and at Richard's return, the
" bishop said to him : Richard ! I sent for you back to lend you »
*• horse, which hath carried me many a mile, and, I thank God, with
*• much ease: and presently delivered into his hands a walking staf^
** with which he professed he had travelled through many parts of
** Germany: and he said, Richard! I do not give, but lend you my horse ;
** be sure you be honest, and bring my horse back to me at your return thi4
** "way to Oxford. And I do nozv give you ten groats, to bear your charges (0
** £xeter ; and here is ten groats more, ivbich I charge you to deliver t»
*• your mother ; and tell her, I send her a bishop's benediction ivitb it, aai
** beg the continuance of her prayers for me. And if you bring my horse back
*' to me, I ivill give you ten groats more to carry you on foot to the colleg* ;
*• and so God bless you, good Richard!" Life of Hooker, in the Ctlleetion of
Lives, edit. 1670.

t Introd. to Herbert's Life.

\ Epittli to the reader of the CflUetitn »f Lhts.

!26 LiFE OF WALTON.

ley bishop of Winchester * : which particular seems
to agree with [confirm] Wood's account, that ^' aftei:
*' his quitting London, he lived mostly in the families
^^ of the emment clergy of that timet." And who
tliat considers the inofFensiveness of his manners, and
the pains he took in celebrating the lives and actions of
good men, can doubt his being much beloved by them ?

In the year 1670^ these Lii^es were collected and
published in octavo : with a Dedication to the above
bishop of Winchester J and a Preface^ containing
the motives for writing them :-^this preface is followed
by a Copy of verses^ by his intimate friend and adopt-
ed son, Charles Cotton, of Beresford in Staffordshire,
Esq. the author of the Second Part of the Complete
Ans^ler^ of whom further mention will hereafter be
made : and by the Letter from bishop King, so often
referred to in the course of this life.

The Complete Angler having^ in the space of
twenty-three years, gone through four editions, — Wal-
ton in the year 1676, and in the eighty -third of his
age, was preparing a fifth, with additions, for the
press ; when Mr. Cotton wrote a second part of that
work : It seems Mr. Cotton submitted the manuscript
to Walton's perusal, who returned it with his appro-
bation+, and a few marginal strictures: And in that
year they came abroad together. Mr. Cotton's book had
the title of the Complete Angler ; being Instructions
how to angle for a Trout or Grayling in a clear
stream; Part II. and it has ever since been received
as a Second part of Walton's book. In the title page,
is a cypher composed of the initial letters of both
their names; which cypher, Mr. Cotton tells us, he
had caused to be cut in stone, and set up over a
fishing-house §, that he had erected near his dwelling,

♦ Dedication of the Lives,

f After the Restoration, apartments were reserved for Walton and hit
daughters, both in the house of the abovonamed prelat«| and in that
of Dr. Seth Ward, bishop of Salisbury. Zoucb.

I See Walton's Letter to Cotton, before the Second Part.

§ TiVr, in/rat Part II. Page 383*

LIFE OF WALTON. 27

on the bank of the little river T^ote, which divides the
counties of Stafford and Derby.

Mr, Cotton's book is a judicious supplement to Wal-
ton's ; for it must not be concealed, that Walton, though
he was so expert an angler, knew but little of fly-fishing ;
and indeed he is so ingenuous as to confess, that the
greater part of what he has said on that subject, was
communicated to him by Mr. Thomas Barker *, and
not the result of his own experience. This Mr. Barker
was a good-humoured gossiping old man, and seems
to have been a cook ; for he says, *^ he had been ad-
*' mitted into the most ambassadors' kitchens, that
*' had come to England for forty years, and drest fish
" for them;" for which, he says, ^' he was duly paid
" by the lord protector t." He spent a great deal of
time, and, it seems, money too, in fishing ; and in the
latter part of his life, dwelt in an almshouse near the
Gatehouse, Westminster. In 1651, two years before the
first publication of Walton's work, he published a book
in 12mo. called ih^Jrl of Jnglingy to which he affixed
his name J : he published in 1653, a second edition, in
4to. under the same title,'but without his name : and in
1669 he published the third edition of it, under the en-
larged title of Barker^ s Delight ^^ or the Jrt of Angling,

• Vide infra.

f Barter't Delifbt, Page 20,

I To this, Walton, in his first edition, page 108, thus acknowledges hit
obligations : «♦ 1 will tell you freely, I find Mr. Thomas Barker, a gen-
«* tleman that has spent much time and money in angling, deal so judici-
** ously and freely in a little book of his of angling, and especially of
•• making and angUng with a fly for a trout, that I will give you his
" very (Srectious without much variation, which shall follow." In his
fifth edition, he continues to mention the use which he had made of
Barker's Book, but in different words : " I shall give some other direo
*» tions for fly-fishing, *uch as are given by Mr. Thomas Barktr, a gen-
" tleman that hath spent much time in fishing, but I shall do it with a
" little variation."

§ Sir John Hawkins composed this part of his account, as well as the
text arid notes ante, pa. 14, under an impression that Barker's book v(ra»

Eublished subsequently to Walton's ; and his fourth edition of Walton
ad come out, before he was aware that Barker's first edition was dated as
early as 1651. Though he did not formally correct the passages tinctured
with this misconception, yet as a hasty note in his copy shews that to
have been his intention had he lived to prepare another edition for the
press, the present Editor has altered the language in both places, so as
to make it correspond with the fact.

28 LIFE OF WALTOBT,

Aiidj for that singular vein of humour that runs through!
it, a most diverting book it is. The Dedication of this
performance to Edward lord Montague, general of the
navy, is given in the margin * ; and the reader will meet
with some further specimens of the author's style and
manner of writing, in the notes on the present edition.

And of Cotton it must be said, that living in a
country where fly-fishing was, and is, almost the
only practice, he had not only the means of acquiring,
but actually possessed more skill in the art, as also in
the method of making flies, than most men of his time.

His book is, in fact, a continuation of Walton's,

* « Noble Lord !

** I do present this my book as I have named it, Barker s Delight y to youf
" honour, J pray God send you safe home., to your good lady and siveet babes,
*' An^eny Amen. If you shall find any thing delightful in the reading of it,
«• I shall heartily rejoice ; for I know you are one who takes delight in
*' that pleasure, and have good judgment and experience, — as many noble
*• persons and gentlemen of true piety and honour do, and have. The fa-
•* vour that I have found — from you, and a great many more, that did and
" do love that pleasure — shall never be bury'd in oblivion by me. I am
•* now grown old, and am willi»g to enlarge my little book. I have
" written no more but my own experience and practice ; and have set
•• forth the true ground of angling, which I have been gathering these
•* threescore years; having spent many pounds in the gaining, of it,
*' as is well known in the place where I was born and educated,
" which is Bracemeale, in the liberty of Salop ; being a freeman and
** burgess of the same city. If any noble or gentle anglery of 'what degree
** soever be bey have a mind to discourse of any of these ivays and experimentsy \
'♦ live in Henry the Filth's, Giftsy the next door to the Gatehouse in
" Westminster : my name is Barker ; where I shall be ready, as long as
** please God, to satisfy them and maintain my art during life, which is
** not like to be long ; that the younger fry may have my experiments
** at a smaller charge than I ^'had them : for it would be too heavy for
** every one that ioveth that exercise, to be at the charge as I was at
*' first in my youth, the loss of my time, with great expences. Therefore, I
*• took it in consideration ; and thought fit to let it be understood, and to
** take pains to set forth the true grounds and ways, that I have found hf
«* experience both for fitting of the rods and tackles, both for ground-
" baits, and flies; with directions for the making thereof; with ob-
" servations for times and seasons for the ground-baits, and flies, both
•* for day and night, with the dressing ; wherein I take as much delight
*« as in the taking of them ; and to shew how I can perform it, to fur-
** nish any lord's table only with Trouts, as it is furnished with flesh, for
** sixteen or twenty dishes. And I have a desire to preserve their health,
« (with the help of God) to go dry in their boots and shoes in angling* j
" for age taketh the pleasure from me."

* S«e his recipe for this purpose, in the Notes on Chap. XVII, pa. 29^^

LITE OF WALTON. S9

not only as it teaches at large that branch of the art of
angling which Walton had but slightly treated on, but
as it takes up Venator^ Walton's piscatory disciple,
just where his master had left him; and this connexion
between the two parts will be clearly seen, when it
is remarked, that the traveller whom Cotton invites
to his house, and so hospitably entertains, and also
instructs in the art of fly-fishing — I say this traveller —
and Venator^ the pupil of Walton, come out to be one
and the same person.

Not further to anticipate what will be found in the
Second Part, it shall here suffice to say, that there is
great spirit in the dialogue; and that the same con-
versable, communicative temper appears in it, that so
eminently distinguishes the piece it accompanies.

The Descriptions of- Flies, with the Materials for^
and different Methods of making them — though they
may admit of some improvement, and accordingly
the reader will meet with several valuable ones in the
notes on the chapter of artificial flies — are indisputably
the most exact and copious of all that have ever yet
been published.

At the end of the Second Part, though in this edi-
tion it has been thought proper to transpose them, are
[were] some verses of Cotton's writing, which he calls
The Retirement^ or Sianzes Irreguliers ,— of them,
and also of the book, take this character from Lang-
baine : ** This book is not unworthy the perusal of
'^ the gravest men that are lovers of this innocent rc-
** creation ; and those who are not anglers, but have
" a taste for poetry, may find Mr. Cotton's character
*' better described by himself, in a copy of verses
" printed at the efid of that book, called The Retire'
menty than any I might present the reader from
Col. Lovelace, Sir Aston Cockaine, Robert Herrick,
Esq., or Mr. Alexander Brome; all which have
writ Verses in our author's praise ; but in my poor
judgment, far short of these Stanzes Irreguliers'*.^'*
In short, these books contain a great number of ex-

* Lhet oftbt Englhb Dratnath foettt Art. Cba. Cotton ^ Esq.

so LIFE OF WALTON.

cellent rules, and valuable discoveries ; and it may,
with truth, be said, that few have ever perused them,
but have, unless it was their own fault, found them*
selves not only better anglers, but better men.

A book which had been published by Col. Robert
Venables, some years before *, called the Experienced
Angler, or Angling improved, which has its merit,
was also now reprinted ; and the booksellers prefixed
to it a general title of the Universal Angler, under
which they sometimes sold the three^ bound together :
but the book being written in a manner very different
from that of the Complete Angler, it was not thought
proper to let it accompany the present edition ; how-
ever, some use has been made of it in the notes. It
has a preface signed /. W, undoubtedly of "AYalton's
writing.

And here it may not be amiss to remark, that be-
tween the two parts of the Complete Angler there is
an obvious difference; the Latter [Part] though it
abounds in descriptions of a wild and romantic country,
and exemplifies the intercourses of hospitable urbanity
—is of a didactic form, and contains in it more of iur
struction in the art it professes to teach, than of moral
reflection : whereas the former, besides the pastoral
simplicity that distinguishes it, is replete with sen-
timents that edify, — and precepts that recommend, in
the most persuasive manner, the practice of religion,
and the exercise of patience, humility, contentedness,
and other moral virtues. In this view of it, the book
might be said to be the only one of the kind, but that
X find vsomewhat like an imitation of it extant iij a
tract entitled Angling improved to spiritual uses, part
of an Octavo volume written by that eminent person
the Hon. Robert Boyle, an angler, as himself confesses,
and published in 1665, with this title, " Occasional
*' Reflections upon several subjects; whereto is pre-
*^ mised a Discourse about such kind of thoughts."

Great names are entitled to great respect. The cha»
racter of Mr. Boyle, as a devout christian and deep

• In 1662.

LIFE OF WALTON. 81*

philosopher, is deservedly in high estimation ; and a
comparison between his Reflections and those of Wal-
ton, might seem an invidious labour but see the

irresistible impulse of wit! the book here referred to,
was written in the very younger years of the author ;
and Swift, who had but little learning himself, and
was better skilled in p arty-politics than in mathematics
or phi/sicks y respected no man for his proficiency in
either, and accordingly has not spared to turn the
whole of it into ridicule*.

Walton was now in his eighty-third year, an age,
which to use his own words, '' might have procured
*' him a writ of easet, and secured him from all fur*
f' ther trouble in that kind;" when he undertook to
write the Life of Doctor Robert Sanderson, bishop of
Lincoln $ : which was published — together with Seve^
ral of the bishop's pieces, and a Sermon of Hooker^s
—in Octavo, 1677§.

And, since little has been said of the subjects of these
several lives, — it may not be amiss just to mention what
kind of men they were whom Walton, and indeed man*

• See his Meditation on a Broomstitk.

f A discharge from the office of a judge, or the state and degree of a
•erjeant at law. Dugdale's Origines JuridieiaUsy 139. That good man,
and learned judge, Sir George Croke, had obtained it some time before
the writing of Sandtrsons Life. Life of Sir George Croke ^ in the Prefaet
to his Reports y Vol, III.

I See the Letter from Bishop Barlow to Walton, at the end of Satt"
dersons Life.

§ The following curious particular, relating to King Charles the First,
}s mentioned in this Life of Sanderson; which, as none of our historians
have taken notice of it, is here given in Walton's own words: " And
" let me here take occasion to tell the reader this truth, not commonly
*' known, that in one of these conferences this conscientious king told
" Dr. Sanderson, or one of them that then waited with him, that the
*• remembrance of two errors did much afflict him; which were, his
*' assent to the earl of Strafford's death, and the abolishing episcopacy
** in Scotland : and that, if God ever restored him to be in a peaceable
" possession of his crown, he would demonstrate his repentance by a
*♦ publick confession, and a voluntaiy penance (I think barefoot) from
*' the Tower of London, or Whitehall, to St. Paul's church, and desire
" the people to intercede with God for his j)ardon. I am sure one of
" them told it me, lives still, and will witness it." Life of Sanderson,

58 LIFE OF WALTON.

kind in general, thoughts© well worthy to be signalized
by hira.

Doctor JOHN DONNE was born in London, about
the year 1573. At the age of eleven he was sent to Ox-
ford ; thence he was transplanted to Cambridge ; where
lie applied himself very assiduously to the study of di-
vinity. At sevenleen he was admitted of Lincoln's-Inn ;
but not having determined what profession to follow,
and being besides not thoroughly settled in his notions
«f religion, he made himself master of the Romish con-
troversy, and became deeply skilled in the civil and
canon law. He was one of the many young gentlemen
that attended the Earl of Essex on the Cales expedition ;
at his return from which, he became secretary to the lord
chancellor Ellesmere. Being very young, he was be-
trayed into some irregularities, the reflection on which
gave him frequent uneasiness, during the whole of his
future life : but a violent passion which he entertained
for a beautiful young woman> a niece of lady Ellesmere,
cured him of these, though it was for a time the ruin of
Jhis fortunes; for he privately married her, and by so
imprudent a conduct brought on himself and his wife
the most pungent affliction that two young persons
could possibly experience; he being, upon the repre-
sentation of Sir George Moor, the lady's father, dis-
missed from his attendance on the lord chancellor, and
in consequence thereof involved in extreme distress and
poverty* ; in which he continued till about 1614, when
having been persuaded to enter into holy orders, he was

* In a letter of his to an intimate friend, is the following most affecting
|>3ssage : " There is not one person, but myself, well of my family :
" I have already lost half a child ; and with that mischance of her«,
•* my wife is fallen into such a discomposure, as would afflict her too
•* extremely, but that the sickness of all her other children stupifies her ;
** of one of which, in good faith, I have not much hope ; and these meet
** with a fortune so ill provided, for physick, and 'such relief, that if
** God should ease us with burials, I know not how to perform even
** that. But I flatter myself with this hope, that I am dying too ; for
*• I cannot waste faster than bv such griefs." Li/e of Donne, in thff
CiUtciion if Lives y edit. 1670, p%e 29.

LIFE OF WALTON. SS

cbosen preacber to the honourable society of Lincobi's-
Inn, and soon after appointed a King's chaplain. His
attachment to the above society, and his love of a town
residence among his friends, were so strong, that al-
though, as Walton assures us, he had within the first
year after bis ordination, offers of no fewer than fourteen
country benefices, be declined them all. In his station
of chaplain he drew on him the eyes of the king, who,
with some peculiar marks of favour, preferred him to
the deanery of St. Paul's ; and shortly after he was, on
the presentation of his friend, the Earl of Dorset, in-
ducted into the vicarage of St. Dunstan's in the West :
but the misfortunes attending his marriage had not only
broken bis spirit, but so impaired his constitution, that
he fell into a lingering consumption, of which he died
in 1631. Besides a great number of Sermons, and a
Discourse on Suicide, — he has left, of his writing ;
Letters to several persons of honour, in Quarto, 1651 ;
and a volume of Poems-^first published, and as there
is reason to suppose, by Walton himself, in 1635, but
last, in 17J9— among which are six most spirited
Satires, several whereof Mr. Pope has modernized.
Walton compares him to St. Austin, as having, like
him, been converted to a life of piety and holiness ; and
adds, that for the greatness of his natural endowments,
he had been said to resemble Picus of Mirandula, of
whom story says, that he was rather born than made
WISE b^ studj/.

Sir HENRY WOTTON was born 1568. After he
had finished his studies at Oxford, he resided in France,
Germany, and Italy ; and at his return attended the
Earl of Essex. He was employed by king James the
First in several foreign negociations, and went ambassa-
dor to Venice. Towards the end of his life, he was
made (having first been admitted to deacon's orders)
provost of Eton College, a dignity well suited to a
mind like his, that had withdrawn itself from the world
for the purpose of religious contemplation. He was
skilled in painting, sculpture, musick, architecture, me-
dals, chemistry, and languages. la the arts of ncgoci-

c

"34: LIFE OF WALTON.

ation he bad few equals * ; and in the propensities
and attainments of a well-bred gentleman, no superior.
To which character, it may be added,— that he pos-
sessed a rich vein of poetry ; which he occasionally
exercised in compositions of the descriptive and elegiac
kind, specimens whereof occur in the course of this
book. There is extant, of his writing, the volumejof
Remains heretofore mentioned ; collected and publish-
ed, as the dedication tells us, by Walton himself;
containing among other valuable tracts, his Element%^
of Architecture + ; but the author's long residence
abroad had in some degree corrupted his style, which^
though in many particulars original and elegant, is
like Sir William Templets, overcharged with Galli-
cisms, and other foreign modes of expression ±. He was a
lover of anglins;, and such a proficient in the art, that,
as he once told Walton, he intended to write a discourse
on it : but death prevented him. His reasons for the
choice of this recreation were, that it was, " after tedi-
*' ous study, a rest to his mind, a chearer of his spi-
" rits, a diyertcr of sadness, a calmer of unquiet
*' thoughts, a moderator of passions, a procurer of
*^ contentedness ; and begat habits of peace and pa-
" tience §."

These sentiments of Sir Henry Wotton, which are
given in his very words, bespeak a' mind habituated to
reflection, and at ease in the enjoyment of his faculties :
but they fall short of that lovely portrait of human hap-
piness, doubtless taken from the image in his own breast,

* To a person intended for a foreign embassy that came to him
for Instruction, he gave this slirewd advice : " Ever," said he, " sptak trut&,
♦*for if you do, you shall never bt believeidy and 'twill put your adversaries,
*' (who will still hunt iounter J' to a loss in all their disquisitions and under-
" takings.'* See also his advice to Milton, concerning travel, in his Letter
prefixed to Milton's Comus.

f This treatise of Sir Henry's is, undoubtedly, the best on the subject
of any in the modem languages : a few years after his death it was trans-
lated into Latin, and printed at the end of Fitruviusy with an eulogium
on the author.

\ As where he says, " At Augusta I took language that the princet
" and states of the union had deferred that assembly." Rel'iJu, fVotteny
edit. 163S.

§ Fidt'WAiQiCs EfutU J>idicatory i Isftin/raf cap, I, pa. 121,

tIFE OJ* WALTOW. 35

•which he has exhibited in the following beautiful
stanzas j and which I here publish without those varia-
tions from the original that in some copies have greatly
injured the sense, and abated the energy of them :

How happj is he born, or taught,

That sev^eth not another's will !
Whose armour is his honest thought,

And limple truth his utmost skill;

Whose passions not his masters are;

Whose soul is still prepar'd for death i
Unty'd unto the world, with care
Of public fame, or private breath s

Wtio envies none that chance doth raise.

Nor vice : who never understood.
How deepest wounds are given — by praise}

Nor, rules of staler but rules of goodi

Who hath his life from rumours freed ;

Whose conscience is his strong retreat ;
Whose state can neither flatterers feed,—

Nor, ruin make oppressors great ;

Who God doth, late and early, pray s
More of his grace than g\fls to lend |

And entertains the harmless day,
With a religious book or friend.

This man is freed from servile bands

Of hope to rise, or fear to fall ;
Lord of himself, though not of lands i

And having rwHungt yet hath all.

This worthy and accompliFhed gentleman died in the
year 1639, and is celebrated by Mr. Cowley, in an el«-
giac poem, beginning with these lines :

What shall we say since silent now is He,
Who when he spokCy all things would silent be ;
Who had so many languages in store,
That only Fame shall speak of him in mor€*
C «

36 LIFE or WALTON.

HOOKER, one of the greatest of English divines, is
sufficiently known and celebrated ; as a learned, able,
and judicious writer, and defender of our church, in
his Treatise of the laws of ecclesiastical polity: — the
occasion of writing which is at this day but little
known ; and, to say the truth, has never been related
with the clearness and perspicuity necessary to render
the controversy intelligible. In or about the year 1570
were published two small tracts — severally entitled, a
first and second Admonition to the Parliament^ con-
taining, under the form of a remonstrance, a most
virulent invective against the establishment and dis-
cipline of the church of England — which were answer-
ed by Dr. Whitgift, afterwards archbishop of Can-
terbury, and defended by one Thomas Cartwright, the
author of the second Admonition. But the order and
progress of the controversy will best appear by the fol-
lowing state of it :

Admonition^ first and second,

Anszcer thereto^ by Whitgift.

1. Replie to the Answer ^ by T. C [Thomas Cart-
wright.]

Defence of the Answer (against the Reply) by
Whitgift.

2. A Second Replie of Cartwrischt against Whit-
gift's Second [^Defence of the] Answer^

3. The rest of the Second Reply,

Whitgift being, it seems, weary of the dispute, re-
mitted [committ^ J the future conduct of it to Hooker ;
who took it up with an examination of the two Admo-
nitions, and continued it through the subsequent books
of Cartwright, referring to the latter (a particular wor-
thy to be known : for, without it, no one can tell who or
what he is refuting) by the initials "T. C." and the
adjunct ^'lib." above-mentioned.

Here the matter rested, till the re-establishment of
episcopacy and the liturgy (both which, it is well
kHOwn, were abolished by the usurpers under Crom
well) revived the question of the lawfulness of both the
one and the other, and gave rise to a controversy that is
likely never to end.

LIFE OP WALTON. S7

Tfie praise of Hooker's book is, — that it is written
with great force of argument, and in a truly christian
temper : that it contains a wonderful variety of learn-
ing and curious information ; and for richness, correct-
ness, and elegance of style, may be justly deemed the
standard of perfection in the Englisli language*.

This excellent man. Hooker, was by a crafty woman,
betrayed into a marriage with her daughter ; a homely
ill-bred wench, and, when married, a shrew ; who is
more than suspected, at the instigation of his adver-
saries, to have destroyed the corrected copy of the three
last books of his invaluable work, of which only the
former five were published by himself. He was some
time Master-of-the^Temple ; but his last preferment was
to the rectory of Bishop's Bourne, near Canterbury. In
his passage from Gravesend to London, in the tilt-boat,
he caught a cold; which brought on a sickness that
put an end to his days, in 1600, when he liad but just
completed his forty-seventh year.

HERBERT was, of the noble family of that name ;
and a younger brother of the first of modern deists f , the

*" It is worth remarking upon this dispute, how the separatists hav«
shifted their ground : at first, both parties seemed to be agreed, that with-
out an ecclesiastical establishment of some kind or other, and a discipline in
the church to be exercised over its ministers and members, the cnristian
religion could not subsist ; and the only question was, — Which, of the
two, had the best warrant from scripture, and the usage of the primitive
church ; a government by bishops^ priests^ and deacons ; or, by presbyters
and lay elders, exercising jurisdiction in provincial and parochial synods and
tlastesy over the several congregations within counties, or particular divi-
sions of the kingdoms ? But of this kind of church government we now
hear mothlng, except In the chuFch of Scotland. All congregrations are
now independent of each other, and every congregation is styled a church :
The father of this tenet, was Robinson, a pastor of an English

church at Leyden ; if not the original founder of the sect called BroivnistSf
now extinct ; and the great malntalners of it, were the divines most fa-
voured by Croniwell in his usurpation, Goodzviny Owen, Nye, Caryl, and
others. The Presbyterians, It seems, have approved it ; and giving up
their scheme of phurch government, have joined the independents ; and
both have chosen to be comprehended under the general denomination of
Dissenters. Fide Quick's Synodicon, Vol. 11.467. Calamy's Life of Baxter ^
Vol. I. 476. Preface to Dr. Gray's Hudibras.

f So, truly, termed ; as being the author of a treatise De vtritate provt
dutinguitiir a revelatione^ a verisimili, a possibilif a falsa. Touching which

c 3

I
58 IIFB OF WALTON,

famous Edward lord Herbert of Cherbury. He was' a
king's scholar at Westminster, and, after that, a fellow
of Trinity College, in Cambridge. In 1619, he was chos-
en university orator ; and, while in that station, studied
the modern languages, with a view to the office of se*
cretary of state: but beingofacoruNtilution that indicated
a consumption, and withal of an ascetic turn of mind, he
gave up the thoughts of a court life, and entered into
holy orders. His first prefermei't in the church was a
prebend in the cathedral of LiiiCf)ln ; and Ins next and
last, the rectory of Bemerton, near Salisbury. About
1630, he married a near relation of the earl of Danby ;
and died about 1635, aged forty-two, without issue.

His elder brother, lord Herbert of Cherbury, mentions
him in his own IJfe ; and gives his character in the
following words : " My brother George was so excellent
'^ a scholar, that he was made the publick orator of the
*' university in Cambridge: some of whose English
*^ works are extant, which, though they be rare in their
*^ kind, yet are far short of expressing those perfections
*^ he had in the Greek and Latin tongues, and all di»
*^ vine and human literature. His life was most holy
*' and exemplary; insomuch that about Salisbury,
^^ where he lived beneficed for many years, he was little
*' less than sainted : he was not exempt from passion and
*' choler, being iufirmities to which all our race is sub-
*^ ject, — ^but, that one excepted, without reproach ia
^^ his actions."

book, and the religious opinions of the author, I shall here take occasion
to mention a fact that I find related in a collection of periodical papers,
entitled the Weekly Miscellany ^ published in 1736, in two vols. 8vo. Lord
Herbert, of Cherbury, being dangerously ill, and apprehensive that his
end was approaching, sent for Dr. Jeremy Taylor, and signified a desire
of receiving the sacrament at his hands . the doctor objected to him the
tenets contained in his writings, particularly those wherein he asserts the
sufficiency and absolute perfection of natural religion, with a view to shew
that any extraordinary reyelation is needless ; and exhorted him to retract
them ; but his lordship refusing, the doctor declared that he could not ad-
minister so holy and solemn a right to an unbeticver.

The doctor upon this left him; and, conceiving hopes that his lordship's
sickness was not mortal, he wrote that discourse — proving that the reli-
gion of Jesus Christ is from God — which is printed in his Ductor Dubitant
tiumt and has lately been repubhshed by the truly reverend and learned
©r, Hwrd, now [1784] bishop of Worcester.

liTFE OF WALTON. ^ 39

Daring his residence in the university, he was greatly
celebratS for his learning and parts. Bishop Hacket,
in his Life of the lord keeper Williams^ P^^e 175, men-
tions a strange circiirastance of him ; which for the sin-
gular manner of relating it, take in his own words :
^' Mr. George Herbert, being praelector in the rheto-
*' rick school at Cambridge, anno 1618, passed by those
*^ fluent orators that domineered in tiie pulpits of
^* Athens and Rome, and insisted to read upon an
^ oration of King James : which he analysed; shewed
*' the concinnity of the parts ; the propriety of the
*' phrase ; the height, and power of it to move affec*
*^ tions ; the style, utterly unknown to the an-
*' cients, who could not conceive what kingly elo-
" quence was ; in respect of which, those noted De^
*' magogi were but hirelings and triobolarj/ rhetori-
^' ticians."

A collection of religious poems, entitled the Temple,
and a small tract, The Priest to the Temple; or, the
Country Parson his Character^ with his Remains y are
all ot his works that are generally known to be in print :
but I have lately learned, that, not many months before
his decease, Herbert translated Cornaro's book Of tern*
perance and long life ; and that the same is to be found
printed in 12mo. Cambridge, 1639; together with a
translation, by another hand, of tlie Hi/giasticon of
Leonard Lessius. Among Herbert's Remains is a col-
lection of foreign proverbs translated into English, well
worthy of a place, in some future edition, — with those
of Ray. Lord Bacon dedicated to him a Translation of
certain of the Psalms into English metre. Vide Lord
Bacon's Works, 4to. Vol. IlL page 163,

In this life, occasion is taken by the author to intro-
duce an Account of an intimate friend of Herbert, Mr.
Nicholas Farrar, and of a religious establishment in
his house, little less than monastic : from which, and
some scattered memoirs concerning it, the following ac-
count is compiled.

This singularly eminent person was the son of a
wealthy East India merchant, and was born in London
in the year 1591 , As the age of six years, for the sigiis

c 4

40 LIFE OF WALTON.

of a pious disposition observed in liim, he was called St,
Nicholas*. From school he was, in his thirteenth
year, sent to Cambridore ; and after some time spent there,
was elected a fellow of Clare-Hall. About the age of
twenty-six, he betook himself to travel ; and, visiting
France, Italy, Spain, and the Low Countries, obtained
a perfect knowledge of all the languages spoken in the
western parts of Christendom ; as also of the principles
and reasons of religion, and manner of worship therein.
In these his travels, he resisted the persuasions of many
who tempted him to join in communion with the church
of Rome ; and remained stedfast in his obedience to the
church of England. Upon his return home, he, by the
death of his father, became enabled to buy land at Little
Gidding, near Huntingdon, to the value of 500/. a
year t ; where was a manor-house and a hall, to which
the parish'church or chapel adjoined : here he settled.
And his father having been intimate with Sir Walter
Raleigh, Sir John Hawkins, and Sir Francis Drake,
and other famous navigators, — he was, in 1624, by
means of some lords in the Virginia company, chosen a
member of the house of commons ; in which capacity
he distinguished himself by his eloquence and activity :
but having, in a short trial of a publick life, experienced
the folly and vanity of worldly pursuits, he took a reso-
lution to abandon them : and, first, he made suit to
his diocesan, that his mother and he might be permit-
ted to restore the tithes of the rectory which had been
impropriated; and accordingly the church was en-
dowed therewith ; which was no sooner done, than he,
with the rest of the family, entered into a course of
mortification, devotion, and charity. The society con-
sisted of himself, a veri/ aged mother^ four nieces^ ^.ndi
other kindred ; and servants: and amounted in number

* St. Nicholas was Bishop of Myra In Lycia, and famous for his early
piety, which as the Romish legendaries tell us, he manifested, by forbear'
ing to suck on Wednesdays and Fridays.

f This is a mistake of Walton's, and is corrected In a Cellection of
Papers relating tp the PROTESTANT NUNNERY of little Gidding, at the end
of Caii F'indicia, edit. Hearne. The mother — in her widowhood, about
the year 1625, and not the son — made the purchase. Among these papers,
are sundry curious conversations of the young women.

i:,IFE OF WALTON. 41

to about tjinty^ — exclusive of the neighbouring clergy,
who frequently resorted thither, and for a week to*
gether would join with, and assist, and ease them in
their watchings and devotions. And this was their
regimen :

The season of Lent^ the Ember weeks, Fridays,
and the Vigils of Saints^ they observed strictly ; exer-
cising abstinence and prayer.

Mr. Farrar himself, who had been admitted to dea-
con's orders, took upon him to be pastor of this little
flock : and accordingly, at ten and four every day,
read Common Prayer in the church, which for the pur-

gose he had both repaired and adorned ; besides which,
e, at the hour of six in the morping, constantly read
mattins, either in the church, or an oratory in their
common dwelling, the manor house.

These were but the ordinary exercises of devotion,
TJie account of their severities in watching is to come;
for we are told, that, after these early prayers were
/ended, many of the family were accustomed to spend
some hours in singing hymns or anthems^ sometimes in
church, and often to an organ in the oratory. Farther,
those that slept were, oftentimes, by the ringing of a
watch-bell in the night, summoned to the church or
oratory ; or, in extreme cold nights, to a parlour in
the house that had a fire in it ; where they betook them-
selves to prayers and lauding God, and reading those
psalms that had not been rcddin the day, — for, it seems,
their rule required, that among them the whole Psalter
should be gone through once in every twenty-four
hours : and when any grew faint, the bell was rung,
sometimes after midnight, — and, at the call thereof, the
weary were relieved by others, who continued this ex-
ercise until morning. And this course of piety, ac-
companied with great liberality to the poor, was main-
tained till the death of Mr. Farrar, in 1639.

The recreations of this society were suited to the
different sexes ; for the males, — running, vaulting, and
shooting at butts with the long bow : for the females,—
walking, gardening, embroidery, and other needle-
znwks ; and for both, — musick, vocal and instrumental ;

42 LIFE OF WALTON.

readhf_g Voyages, Travels, and Descriptions of coun-
tries, flistories, and the Book of Martyrs. Moreover,
they had attained to great proficiency in the art of
binding and Gilding Books / and with singular in-
genuity and industry, compiled a kind of Harmon?/
of sundry parts of the holy scriptures, by cutting out
from different copies the parallel passages, pasting
them in their order on blank paper, and afterwards
binding them with suitable cuts in a volume*. And
that their benevolence might be as diffusive as possible,
»— a School was kept, in the house, for Grammar,
Arithmetick, and Musick ; to which all the neighbouring
parents had permission to send their children.

It is true, that this society excited a notion in some,
that it was little better than a Popish seminari/ ; and
there are extant, in the Preface to Peter Langtoft's
Chronicle^ edit. Hearne, two tracts, in which it is
termed a repvted nunnery : but upon a visit made

* They [made three such books : one they presented to king Charles
the First, — another to Charles the Second, — one of which is now in the.
library of St. John's college, Oxford; a third was in the custody of the
family in 1740.

This is the account which the Authors of t\\e Supplement to the Bio-!'
graphia Britannita^ wherever they got it, give of these books [Art,
Mapletoft]; but one, more accurate, is to be foupd at the end of
Hearne's Caii Findicia^ which makes them seven in number : the third
in order, was by the compilers called " The whole law of God ;" but
Hearne, in loc. tit. has given the title in terms that more fully declare
its contents. The book consists of sundry chapters of the Penta-
teuch, and other parts of the Bible of the last translation, pasted down on
leaves equal in size to the largest Atlas ; together with such commen-
taries thereon as they could find in the printed works of Mr. Farrar's
friend, Dr. Tho. [Jackson, and other expositors: to these w<we added —
and pasted in the margin, from a small impression of the Neiv Testament
. — all such passages in St. Paul's Epistles as tend to the explanation of the
law, and particularly of the types : and for the better illustration of the
whole, were inserted cuts — taken out of printed books, and otherwise
collected, referring to the subject matter of the book— amounting in num-
ber to upwards of tnvehe hundred. This stupendous work wa?, in the
month of March; 1776, purchased by the Rev, Mr. Bourdillon, minister
of th« French protestant church in Spitalfields, at a sale of the library of
the Rev. Mr. De Missy ; and is now, January, 1784, in his possession.
At the same auction, was also sold to a bookseller, for four guineas, an-
other book of the like kind, compiled by the same persons, entitled,
*' Actions, Doctrines, and other Passages touching our Blessed Lord and
Saviour Jesus Christ." The title at length, of this also, is given by
Jiearne in Ue. eit.

LIFE OF WALTON. 43

to it by some inquisitive persons, nothing to warrant
this suspicion appeared. Whoever would know more
of this singular institution is referred to the authorities
mentioned^ at the bottom of this page*; in some^of
which it will be found, that King Charles I. once
honoured the house with a visit : and that — Little
Gidding being in the diocese of Lincoln-^Williams,
at that time, being bishop thereof, and their neighbour
at Bugden ; induced by motives of charity, at first
perhaps mingled with curiosity ; frequently did the
same ; when — finding, there, nothing to blame, and
much to commend— he more than once preached, and
exercised his episcopal function of coiifirmation on the
young people there assembled. Two nieces of Mr.
Farrar offered to make a vow of perpetual chastity,
with the solemnity of episcopal blessing and ratificaf
tion ; but the bishop, doubtless considering that vows
which oblige us to a perpetual conflict Avith our na-f
tural aflfections, do oftner prove snares to the consci-*
encc of the votary than acceptable services in the sight
of God, dissuaded them from such an engagement;
and, being thus left at liberty, one of them was after^
wards well bestowed on a husband.

Mr. Nicholas Farrar, though the younger of two
brothers, had, it seems, the government of this fra-
nity : he is, by all that have written of him, celebrated
as well for his learning as his piety : yet has he left
nothing of his writing, save a short Preface to his
friend Herbert's Poems, and a Translation of a book
much applauded in his day, The hundred and Tet$
Considerations of Signior John Yaldessof,

• Preface to Peter Langtoft's Chron. edit. Hearne. Papers at the end of
Cai't y indicia. Racket's Life of Archbishop Williamsy Part II. page 50^
Bio^r. Brit. Supplement y Art. Mapletoft. Life of Mr. Nieholus Farrar,
written by Dr. Turner, Bishop of Ely, in the Christian s Magaxine for the
months of July, August, September, and October, 1761.

"J- John Valdesso was of noble extraction, by birth a Spaniard, a soldief
by profession, and a follower of the emperor Charles the Fifth. Grown
old, he obtained leave of the emperor to quit his service, assigning as a rea-
son for his request, this most sage and pious aphorism, «' Oportet inter vita
** negotia llf diem mortis spatium aliquod intercedere ;" or, to give it in English,

** It is fit that between the business of life and the day of death, some space

44 LIFE OF WALTON.

It is needless to add what was the subsequent fate of
this harmless society. Mr. Farrar died : the rebellion
broke out : and when " Popery and superstition" was
the cry, alas ! how could Little Gidding hope to escape
the calamities of the times ? in short it was plundered
and desolated !

All that the Farrars had restored to the [parochial]
church, all that they had bestowed in sacred come-
liness, was seized upon as lawful prey taken from
superstitious persons: and finally, the owners them-
selves were compelled to flee away and disperse: in
all which persecutions, we are told that, applying to
their wretched circumstances the words of the apostle,
** they took joyfully the spoiling of tlieir goods *.**

SANDERSON was a man of very acute parts, and
famous for his deep skill in casuistry : that sort of
learning was formerly much cultivated among the Romish
divines, with a view to qualify (he younger clergy for
the office of confession ; and it continued in fashion
here, longer after the reformation than it was useful.
In the year 1647 he drew up the famous Oxford Reu^y
sons against the Coienant ; which discover amazing
penetration and sagacity, and so distinguished him,
that at the restoration, he was promoted to the bishop-*
rick of Lincoln. In 1671 he, by virtue of a commission
from king Charles the Second, assisted at a conference
at the Savoy, between the episcopal clergy and non-
conforming divines, for settling a Liturgy ; and, upon
a review of the book o{ Common Prayer that followed
it, composed sundry of the new Collects and additional
offices^ it is said that the form oi general thanksgiving
is in the number of the former: and drew up the Pre^
faccy '' It hath been the wisdom of the Church," ^c.

** should intervene." The reflection on which is supposed to have moved
the emperor to resign his dignities, and betake himself to an ascetic life.
In his retirement, which was to the city of Naples, Valdesso wrote the
book ahove-mentioned in the Castilian language; and the same being
translated into Italian by Caslius Secundus Curio of Basil, was cut of that
language translated into English by Mr. Farrar. It was printed in 4to. at
Oxford, 1638, and is often enough to be met with.
* EfiitletQ tbt Hebrews t chap. X. verse 34.

LIFE OP WALTOX, 45

This great man died in IQ69. There are extant, of
his works — ^l^esides a volume of Sermons, in Folio^^n
treatise, Be Juramenti promissorii ohligatione, which
was translated into English by King Charles the First,
while a prisoner in the Isle of Wight ; and several
other pieces, the titles whereof may be seen in the Ca-
talogue of the Bodleian Library. Walton's acquaint-
ance with him had a very early commencement : and
what degree of intimacy subsisted between them, will
appear by the following account, which snfficieutljr
characterizes the humility of the good doctor, and the
simplicity of honest Isaac. ^' About the time of hig
' printing this excellent Preface, [to his Sermons ^rst
' printed in 1655,] I met him accidentally in London,
^ in sad-coloured cloathes, and, God knows, far from
' being costly. The place of our meeting was near to
' Little Britain ; where he had been to buy a book,
^ which he then had in his hand. We had no incli-
' nation to part presently; and therefore turned to
' stand in a corner^ under a penthouse ; (for it began
' to rain;) and immediately the wind rose, and the
* rain increased so much, that both became so inconve-
' nient, as ix) force us into a cleanly house ; where we
' had bread, cheese, ale, and a fire, for our money.
^ This rain and wind were so obliging to mo, as to
' force our stay there, for at least an hour, to ray
' great content and advantage ; for in that lime, he
' made to me many useful observations, with much
' clearness and conscientious freedom *.

It was not till long after that period when the facul-
ties of men begin ti decline, that Walton undertook to
write the Life of Sanderson : nevertheless, far from
being deficient in any of those excellencies that distin-
guish the former Lives , this abounds with the evidences
of a vigorous imagination, a sound judgment, and a
memory unimpaired ; and for the nervous sentiments
and pious simplicity therein displayed, let the conclud-
ing paragraph thereof, pointed out to me by an emi-
nent writer t, and here given, serve as a specimen.

* Z»/# of Sanderson. | Dr. Samuel Johnson.

46 LITE OP WAtTOK.

*^ Thus, this pattern of meekness and primitive in-
*' nocence changed this for a better life : 'tis now too
*' late to wish that mine may belike his; (for I am in
*^ the eighty-fifth year of ray age : and God knows it
*' hath not ;) but I most humbly beseech. Almighty
^* God that my death may : and 1 do as earnestly beg,
f' that if any reader shall receive any satisfaction from
*^ this very plain, and as true relation, he will be so
** charitable as to say Amtn.^

Such were the Persons, whose virtues Walton was so
laudably employed in celebrating : and surely he has
done but justice in saying, that

" These were honourable men in their genera-
'' tions." Ecdus^xy. 7*.

And yet so far was he from arrogating to himself any
merit in this his labour, that, in the instance of Dr.
Donne's Lift^ he compares himself to Pompey's bond-
man— who being found on the sea-shore, gathering up
the scattered fragments of an old broken boat, in order
to burn thebotly of his dead master, was asked, " Who
^^ art thou that preparest the funerals of Pompey the
«' Great ?" — hoping, as he says, that if a like question
should be put to him, it would be thought to have in
it more of wonder than disdain.

The above passage in scripture, assumed by Walton
as a motto to the collection of Lii)es^ J^^ay, with equal
propriety, be applied to most of his friends and inti-
mates; wlio were, men of such distinguished cha-
racters for learning and piety, and so many in num-
ber t, that it is matter of wonder by what means a
man in his station, could obtain admittance among so

♦ Motto to the Collection of Lives »

f In the number of his intimate friends we find Archbishop Usher,
Archbishop Sheldon, Bishop Morton, Bishop King, Bishop Barlow,
Dr. Fuller, Dr. Price, Dr. Woodford, Dr. Featly, Dr. Holdsworth,
Dr. Hammond, Sir Edward Sandys, Sir Edw. Bysh, Mr. Cranmer,
Mr. Chillingworth, Mich. Drayton, and that celebrated scholar and
critic Mr. John Hales, of Eton. Ha-wkins. In short he was in habit*
of friendly intercourse with those who were most celebrated for their
piety and learning. Nor could he be deficient in urbanity of manners,
or elegance of taste, who was the companion of Sir Henry Wotton,
the most accoBipli«hed gentlemtui of hi» age. ZQUtli,

LIFE OF WALTOir. 4f

illustrious a society ; unless we will suppose, as doubt-
less was the case, that his integrity and amiable dis-
position attracted the notice and conciliated the af-
fections of all with whom he had any concern.

It is observable, that not only these, but the rest of
Walton's friends, were eminent roya//^/^ / and that he
himself was in great repute for his attachment to the
royal cause, will appear by the following relation,
taken from Ahmole's Hhtory of the order of the
garter^ page 228 ; where the Author, speaking of the
ensigns of the order, says ; ^' Nor will it be unfitly
^' here remembered, by what good fortune the present
^' sovereign's Lesser George^ set with fair diamonds,
" was preserved, after the defeat given to the Scotch
^' forces at Worcester, ann, 4 Car. II. Among the
'' rest of his attendants then dispersed, Oolonet.
'' Blagite was one; who taking shelter at Blore-
^' pipe-house in Staffordshire, where one Mr. Georg(*
'* Barlow then dwelt, delivered his wife this George y
'^ to secure. Within a week after, Mr. Barlow him-
" self carried it to Robert Milward, Esq. ; he being'
*' then a prisoner to the parliament, in the garrison of
'' Stafford ; and by his means was it happily preserved
^ and restored : for, not long after, he delivered it to
'' Mr. Isaac Walton, (a man well known, and a»
'^ well beloved of all good men ; and will be better
*^ known to posterity, by his ingenious pen, in the
" Lites of Dr, Donne, Sir Henri/ Wottoh, Mr,
'^ Richard Hooker, and Mr* George Herbert^) to be
'^ given to Colonel Blague, then a prisoner in the
*' Tower ; who considering it had already past so
'' many dangers, was persuaded it coukl yet secure
" one hazardous attempt of his own; and, thereupon,
*' leaving the Tower without leave-taking, liasted the
" presentation of it to the present sovereign's hand *."^

The religious opinions of good men are of little im-
portance to others, any farther than they necessarily
conduce to virtuous practice; since we see, that as
well the diflferent persuasions of papist and protcstant^

• See also Dr. Plott's StiftrdsBirt^ all*

4S LIFE OP WALTON ►

as the several no less diiFering parties into which the!
reformed religion is unhappily subdivided^ have pro-
duced men equally remarkable for their endowments,
sincere in their professions, and exemplary in their
lives * ; — but were it necessary, after what has been
above remarked of him, to be particular on this head,
with respect to our Author we should say, that he
was a very dutiful son of the Church of Ergland ;
nay further, that he was a friend to an hierarchi/^ or,
as we should now call such a one, a high churchman ;
for which propensity of his, if it needs an apology, it
may be said, T!iat he had lived to see hypocrisy and
fanaticism triumph in the subversion of both our
ecclesiastical and civil constitution, — \\\q important
question of toleration had not been discussed, — the
extent of regal prerogative, and the bounds of civil
and religious liberty, had never been ascertained, — >
and he, like many other good men, might look on the
interests of the Church, and those of Religion, as in-
separable.

[At a time when animosities I)etween the Sectarian and
High-church parties prevailed without any prospect
of their termination, Walton, from solicitude for the
welfare of his country-rand not with a view to em-
barrass himself in disputation, for his nature was ab-
horrent from controversy — gave an ingenuous and un-
dissembled account of his faith and practice, as a true
son of the Church of England : publishing, in 1680,
a treatise under the title of luO-ce and Trulh^ in two
modest and peaceable Letters concerning the Distem^
pers of the present Times ; written from a quiet arid
comfo7inahle citizen of London^ to two busie and faC"
tious shopkeepers in Coventry, The motto to it, was,
<' But let none of you suffer as a busie-body in other
" men's matters !" 1 Pet. 4. 15. Walton suppressed
his name in the title page : but for ascribing it to his
pen, there is the sufficient authority of Archbishop
Bancroft, who, in the volume of Miscellanies, (Miscei"

* If the intelligent reader doubts the truth of this position ; let him re-
flect on, and compare with each other, the characters of Hooker, Father
Paul, and Mr. Bjcuard Baxter.

LIFE Of WALTOPr. 49

laneoy 14 ; 2, 34.) in (he library of Emanuel College^
Cambridge, has, with his own hand, marked its title
thus : " Is. Walton's 2 letters cone. y^. Dislemps of ye.
^' Times, 1680." The style, the sentiment, the argu-
mentation, are such as might be expected from a plain
man, actuated only by an honest zeal to promote the
publick peace. And if we consider that it was written by
our '' quiet and conformable Citizen./' in the 87th year
of his age, a season of life when the faculties of the mind
are usually on the decline, it will be scarcely possible
not to admire the clearness of his judgment and the
unimpaired vigour of his memory. The work, which
breathes the genuine spirit of benevolence and candor,
is not altogether inapplicable to more recent times ; and
it has been reprinted as lately as 1795. ^ouch.^

Besides the Works of Walton above-mentioned, there
are extant, of his writing, Verses on the death of Dr,
Donne, beginning, "Our Donne is dead ;" Verses io
his reverend friend the Author oi i\iQ Sj/nagogue^ prints
ed together with Herbert's Temple ♦ ; Verses before
Alexander Brome's Poems ^ octavo, 1646, — and before
Shirley's Poems ^ octavo, 1646,— and before Cart-
wright's -P/ays owe? Poem^, octavo, 1651. lie wrote
also the foUowing Lines under an engraving of Dr.
Donne, before his Poems, published in 16S5.

This was — for youth, strength, mirth, and mt — that time

Most count their golden age t-j but was not thine :

Thine was, thy later years ; so much refined

From youth's dross, mirth, and wit, — as thy pure mind

Thought (like the angels) nothing but the praise

Of thy Creator, in those last, best days.

Witness this book, (thy emblem,) which begio^
TVith love ; but ends with sighs and tears for sins.

Dr. Henry King, bishop of Chichester — iu a Letter
to Walton, dated in November, 1664 j and iu which

• Fide, infra, the SiCNATURfc to the second Copy of Commendatory
Vtnes, and page 186, n.

f Alluding to his age, v/a. eighteen ; when the picture was paliUeil
from which the print was taken.

D

50 « LIFE OF WALTON.

is contained the judgment (hereinbefore inserted) of
Hales of Eton, on the Life of Dr, Donne — says, that
Walton had, in the Life of Hooker , given a more
short and significant account of the character of hi»
time, and also of archbishop JVhitgift, than he had re-
ceived from any other pen, — and that he had also done
much for Sir Henri/ Savile^ his contemporary and fa-
miliar friend ; which fact does very well connect with
what the late Mr. Des Maizeaux, some years since, re-
lated to a gentleman now deceased *, from whom my-
self had it, viz. that there were, then, several Letters of
Walton extant, in the Ashmolean Museum, relating to
a Life of Sir Henry Savile^ which Walton had en-
tertained thoughts of writing.

I also find, that he undertook to collect materials for
a Life of Halts : it seems, that Mr. Anthony Farring-
don, minister of St. Mary Magdalen, Milk-street, Lon-
don, had begun to write the life of this memorable
person; but dying^ before he had completed it, his pa-
pers were sent to Walton, with a request from Mr.
Fulman t, who had proposed to himself to continue and
finish it, that Walton would furnish him with such in-
formation as was to his purpose: Mr. Fulman did not
live to- complete his design. But a Life of Mr. Halesy
from other materials, was compiled by the late Mr.
Des Maizeax, and published by him in 1719, as a
specimen of a new Biographical Dictionary.

A Letter of Walton, to .Marriot his bookseller, upon
this occasion, was sent me by the late Rev. Dr.* Birch,

* William Oldys, Esq. Norroy king at arms ; Author of the Life of
Mr. Cottony prefixed to the Second Part, in the former editions of this
work.

f Mr, William Fulman, amanuensis to Dr. Hen. Hammond. See him
in Athen. Oxon. Vol. II. 823. Some specious arguments have been urged
to prove that this person was the Author of the Whole Duty of Man^
and I, once thought they had finally settled that long agitated question,
** To whom is the world obliged for that excellent work ?" but I find
a full and ample refutation of them, in a book entitled, Memoirs of seve-
ral Ladies of Great Brittany by George Ballard, 4to. 1752, p. 318, and
that the weight of evidence is greatly in favour of a lady deservedly cele-
brated by him, viz. Dorothy y the wife of Sir John Pakingtony Bart, and
daughter of Thomas lord Coventry, lord keeper of the great seal, temp.
Car. I,

LIFE OF WALTON. 51

soon after the publication of my first edition of the Com*
plete Angler i containing the above facts ; to which the
Doctor added, that after the year 1719, Mr. Fulraan's
papers came to the hands of Mr. Des Maizeaux, who
intended, in some way or other, to avail himself of them:
but he never published a second edition of his Life of
Hales ; nor, for aught that I can hear, have they ever
yet found their way into the world.

In 1683, when he was ninety y^ears old, Walton
published Thealma and Clearchus ; a pastoral history^
in smooth and easy verse, written long since hy John
Chalkhill, Esq-; an acquaintance and friend of Ed*
mund Spenser : to this poem he wrote a preface, con-
taining a very amiable character of the author.

He lived but a very little time after the publication
of this poem ; for, as Wood says, he ended his days
on the fifteenth day of December, 1683, in the great
frost, at Winchester, in the house of Dr. William
Hawkins, a prebendary of the church there, where he
lies buried*.

In the cathedral of Winchester, viz, in a chapel la
the south aile, called Prior Silksteed's chapel, on a
large black flat marble stone, is this inscription to his
memory; the poetry whereof has very little to recom*
mend it.

Here resteth the body of
Mr. Isaac Walton,
Who dyed the 1 5th of December,
1683.

Alas ! he's gone before.
Gone to return no more.
Our panting breasts aspire

After their aged sire ;
Whose well-spent life did last
Full ninety years and past.

But now he hath begun
That, which will ne'er be done.

Crown'd with eternal bliss,

We wish our souls with h\%.

VOTIS MODESTIS SIC FLERVWT LIBKRI.

• Athen. Oxon. Vol. I. col 305.
D 2

§2 WFE OF WALTON.

The issue of Walton's marriage were, — a son, named-
Isaac; and a daughter, named, after her mother, Anne.
This son was placed in Christ Church college, Oxford* ;
and, having taken his degree of bachelor of arts, tra-
velled, together with his uncle, Mr. (afterwards bishop)
Ken, in the year 1674, being the year of the jubilee, into
France and Italy ; and, as Cotton says, visited Rome
and Venice. Of this son^ mention is made in the re-
markable Will of Dr. Donne the younger, (printed on
a half sheet,) in 1662 ; whereby he bequeathed to the
elder Walton all his fother's writings, as also his com-
mon-place book, which, he says, may be of use to him
if he makes him a scholar. Upon the return of the
younger Walton, he prosecuted his studies ; and hav-
ing finished the same, entered into holy orders ; and
became chaplain to Dr. Seth Ward, bishop of Sarum;
by whose favour, he attained to the dignity of a canon
residentiary of that cathedral. Upon the decease of
bishop Ward, and the promotion of Dr. Gilbert Burnet
to the vacant see, Mr. Walton was taken into the friend-
ship and confidence of that prelate, and being a man
of great temper and discretion, and for his candour
and sincerity much respected by all the clergy of the
diocese, he became very useful to him in conducting
the affairs of the chapter.

Old Isaac Walton having by his will bequeathed a
farm and land near Stafford, of about the yearly value
of 20/. to this his son and his heirs for ever, upon con-
dition, that if his said son should not marry before
he should be of the age of forty-one, or being mar-
ried, should die before the said age, and leave no son
that should live to the age of twenty-one, then the
same should go to the corporation of Stafford, for cer-
tain charitable purposes ; — this son, upon his attain-
ment of that age without having married, sent to the
mayor of Stafford, acquainting him, that the estate was
improved to almost double it's former value, and that
upon his decease the corporation would become entitled
thereto.

* Fidt Part II. page 4i7; Atben. Omn. Vol. II. 989; Bhgr.Brtt. Art.
Ken.

LIFE OF WALTON. SS

This worthy person died, at the age of sixty-nine, on
the 29th day of December, 1719 ; and lies interred in
the cathedral church of Salisbury.

^nne^ the daughter of old Isaac Walton, and sister
of the above person, was married \o Dr. WiUiam HaW"
kins ; a divine and a prebendary of Winchester, men-
tioned above; for whom Walton, in his will, expresses
great affection, declaring that he loved him as his own
son: he died the 17th day of July, 1601, aged fifty-
eight, leaving issue— by his said wife — a daughter,
named Anney and a son, named William. The daughter
was never married, but lived with her uncle, the canon^
as his housekeeper, and the manager of his domestick
concerns: she remained settled at Salisbury after his
decease, and till the 27th of November, 1728, when
she died, and lies buried in the cathedral.

William^ the son of Dr. Hawkins, and brother of
the last-mentioned Anne, was bred to the study of the
law ; and from the Middle Temple, called to the bar ;
but attained to no degree of eminence in his profession.
He wrote and published in 8ro. anno 1713, A short
Account of the life of Bishop Ken, with a small speci-
men, in order to a publication of his Works at large;
and, accordingly, in the year, 1721, they were pub-
lished, in four volumes, 8vo, From this Account, some
of the above particulars respecting the family connec-
tions of Walton are taken.

I am informed, that this gentleman for several years
laboured under the affliction of incurable blindness, and
that he died on (he 29th day of November, 1748.

A few months before his death, our Author made his
will, which appears, — by the peculiarity of many ex-
pressions contained in it, as well a* by the hand— to be
of his own writing. As there is something characteris-
tick in this last solemn act of his life, — it has been
thought proper to insert an authentic copy thereof in
this account of him ; postponing it, only, to the fol-
lowing reflections on his life and character.

Upon a retrospect to the foregoing particulars, and
ft view of some others mentioned in a subsequent Let-

o 3

54 LIFE OF WALTON,

ter* and in his Will, — it will appear that Walton
possessed that essential ingredient in human felicity,
viens sana in corpore sano ; for in his eightj/-thtrd
year he professes a resolution to begin a pilgrimage of
more than a hundred miles into a country the most dif-
ficult and hazardous that can be conceived for an aged
man to travel in, to visit his friend Cottont, and doubt-

* See his Letter to Charles Cotton^ Esq. ; prefixed to the second part.

+ To this journey he seems to have been invited by Mr. Cotton, in the
following beautiful Stanzas^ printed with other of his Poem in 1689, 8vo.
and addressed to his dear and most worthy friend Mr. Isaac Walton.

Whilst in this cold and blust'ring clime,

Where bleak winds howl and tempests roar,

We pass away the roughest time
Has been of many years before.

Whilst from the most tempestuous nooks

The chillest blasts our peace invade.
And by great rains our smallest brooks
* Are almost navigable made ;

Whilst all the ills, are so improv'd.

Of this dead quarter of the year.
That even you, so much belov'd.

We would not now wish with us here :

In this estate, I say, it is

Some comfort to us to suppose.
That, in a better clime than this,

You, our dear friend, have more repose;

And some delight to me the while,

Though nature now does weep in rain.
To think that I have seen her smile.
And haply may I do again.

If the all-ruling Power please

We live to see another May^
We'll recompense an age of these

Foul days in one fine fishing day.

We then shall have a day or two,

Perhaps a week, wherein to try
What the best master's hand can do

With the most deadly killing flie :

A day, with not too bright a beam,

A warm, but not a scorching sun,
A southern gale to curl the stream.

And, master, half our work is done.

LIFE OF WALTON. 55

less to enjoy his favourite diversion of angling in the
delightful streams of the Dove, — and on the ninetieth
anniversary of his birth-day he, by his will, declares
himself to be of perfect memory *.

As to his worldly circumstances — notwithstanding
the adverse accident of his being obliged, by the trou-
bles of the times, to quit London and his occupation—
they appear to have been commensurate, as well to the
wishes as the wants of any but a covetous and intemper-
ate man ; and, in his relations and connections, such
a concurrence of circumstances is visible, as it would
be almost presumption to pray for.

For — not to mention the patronage of those many
prelates and dignitaries of the church, men of piety
and learning, with whom he lived in a close intimacy
and friendship ; or, the many ingenious and worthy
persons with whom he corresponded and conversed ;
or, the esteem and respect testified by printed letters
and eulogiums, which his writings had procured him
•—To be matched with a woman of an exalted under-
standing, and a mild and humble temper; to have
children of good inclinations and sweet and amiable
dispositions, and to see them well settled ; is not the lot
of every man that, preferring a social to a solitary life,
chuscs to become the head of a family.

But blessings like these are comparatively light ; when

There, whilst behind some bush we wait

The scaly people to betray, —
We'll prove it just with treach'rous bait

To make the preying Trout our prey.

And think ourselves in such an hour,

Happier than those, though not so high,
Who, like Leviathans devour.

Of meaner men the smaller -fry.

This, my best friend, at my poor home

Shall be our pastime and our theme ;
But, then — should you not deign to come.

You make all this a flatt'ring dream.

* These, it must be owned, are words of course in a Will : but had
the fact been otberiviscy he would have been unable to make such a ju-
dicious disposition of his worldly estate as he has done, or with his ow(i
hand to write so long an instrument as his Will.

D 4

b6 LIFE OP WALTON.

weighed against those of a mind stored, like his, with
a great variety of useful knowledge, — and a temper that
could harbour no malevolent thought or insidious de-
sign, nor stoop to the arts of fraud or flattery*, but dis-
posed him to love and virtuous friendship, to the enjoy-
ment of innocent delights and recreations, t6 the con-
templation of the works of nature, and the ways of Pro-
vidence, and to the still sublimer pleasures of rational
piety.

If, possessing all these benefits and advantages, ex-
ternal and internal ; together with a mental constitution,
so happily attempered as to have been to him a per*
petual fountain of chearfulness + ; we can entertain a
doubt that Walton was one of the happiest of men,
we estimate them at a rate too low ; and shew ourselves
ignorant of the nature of that felicity to which it is
possible even in this life for virtuous and good men,
with the blessing of God, to arrive.

• Vide infra, in his Will.

I See his Preface, wherein he declares that though he can he serious at
seasonable times, he is a lover of innocent harmless mirth, and that hi"*
hpolc is 7i picture of bis ozvn disposition^

MFE OF WALTON. 57

August the ninth, one thousand sk
hundred eighty-three.

3I|^ tlje 0amt of (Boti, amen, i izaak

WALTON the elder, of Winchester, being this pre-
sent day, in the ninetieth year of my age, and in per-
fect memory, for which praised be God ; but consider-
ing how suddainly I may be deprived of both, do
therefore make this my last will and testament as fol-
loweth : And first, I do declare my belief to be, that
there is only one God, who hath made the whole world,
and me and all mankind ; to whom I shall give an ac-
count of all my actions, which are not to be justified,
but I hope pardoned, for tlie merits of my Saviour
Jesus : And because the profession of Christianity
does, at this time, seem to be subdivided into Papist
and Protestante, I take it, at least to be convenient,
^o declare my belief to be, in all points of faith, as the
Church of England now professeth : and this I do the
rather, because of a very long and very true friendship
with some of the Roman Church, And for my worldly
estate, (which I have neither got by falshood or flat-
tery, or the extreme cruelty of the law of this na-
tion*,) I do hereby give and bequeath it as follovveth :
First, I give my son-in-law. Doctor Hawkins, and
to HIS Wife ; to them I give all my title and right
of or in a part of a house and shop in Pater-noster
row, in London, which I hold by lease from the lord
bishop of London for about fifty years to come. And
J do also give to them all my right and title of or to a
house in Chancery-lane, London, wherein Mrs. Grein-
wood now dwelleth, in which is now about sixteen
years to come : 1 give these two leases to them, they

• Alluding, perhaps, to ihat fundamental maxim of our law, Summum
JUS ett summa injuria.

5S LIFE OF WALTON*

saving my executor from all damage concerning the
same. And I gire to my son Izaak all my right
and title to a lease of Norington farme, which I hold
from the lord bishop of Winton ; And I do also give
him all my right and title to a farme or land near
to Stafford, which I bought of Mr. Walter Noell ; I
say, I give it to him and his heirs for eveir ; but upon
the condition foliowing, namely; if my son shall not
marry before he shall be of the age of forly and one
years, or, being married, shall dye before the said
age, and leave no- son to inherit the said farme or
land, — or if his son or sons shall not live to attain
the age of twenty and one years, to dispose other-
ways of it, — then I give the said farme or land to
the towne or corporation of Stafford, in which I
was borne, for the good and benefit of some of the
said towhe, as I shall direct, and as followeth; (but
first note, that it is at this present time rented for
twenty-one pounds ten shillings a year, and is like to
hold the said rent, if care be taken to keep the barn
and housing in repair;) and I would have, and do
give ten pound of the said rent. To bind out, yearly,
two boys, the sons of honest and poor parents, to be
apprentices to some tradesmen or handycraft-men, tp
the intent the said boys may the belter afterward get
their own living. And I do also give hve pound
yearly out of the said rent, to be given to some
maid-servant, that hath attained the age of twenty and
one years, not less, and dwelt long in one service, or
to some honest poor man's daughter, that hath attain-
ed to that age, to be paid her at or on the day of
lier marriage : and this being done, my will is, that
what rent shall remain of the-said fiirme or land, shall
be disposed of as followeth : first I do give twenty
shillings yearly, to be spent by the major of Stafibrd,
and those that shall collect the said rent, and dispose
of it as I have and shall hereafter direct ; and that
what money or rent shall remain undisposed of, shall
be im ployed to buy coals for some poor people, that
shall most need them, in the said iowne ; the said coals
to be delivered the Jirstweeke in Januari/y or in every

LIFE OF WALTON. 59

Jirst week in February ; I say then^ because I take
that time to be the hardest aad most pinching times
with poor people ; and God reward those that shall
do this without partiality, and with honesty, and a
good conscience. And if the same major and others
of the said towne of Stafford shall prove so negli-
gent, or dishonest, as not to imploy the rent by me
given as intended and exprest in this ray will, which
God forbid, — then I give the said rents and profits of
the said farme or land to the town, and chief magistrates
or governors, of Ecleshall, lo be disposed of by
them in such a manner as I have ordered the disposal
of it by the town of Stafford, the said farrae or land
being near the town of Ecleshall. And I give to my
son-in-law, Dr. Hawkins, whom I love as my own
son; and to my daughter, his wife; and my son
IzAAK ; to each of them a ring, with these words or
motto ; " LiOxe my memory^ /. W, ohiit

" to the Lord Bishop
of Winton a ring, with this motto ; ^' A mile for a
" million, I. JV. obiit " and to his friends

hereafter named, I give to each of them a ring with
this motto; '' A friend's farewell, /. W, ohiit "

And my will is, the said rings be delivered within forty
days after my death : and that the price and value of all
the said rings shall be thirteen shillings and four pence
a piece. I give to Dr. Hawkins Doctor Donne's
Sermons t which I have heard preacht, and read with
much content. To my son Izaak, I give Doctor Sibbs
his Soul's Conflict ; and to my daughter his Bruised
Meed *, desiring them to read them so as to be well ac-
quainted with them. And I also give unto her all ray
books at Winchester and Droxford, and whatever in
those two places are, or I can call raine, except a trunk
of linnen, which I give to my son Izaak : but if, he
do not live to marry, or make use of it, then I give the
same to my grand-daus^hter, Anne Hawkins. And I
give MY DAUGHTER Doctor Hall's Works, which be
now at Farnham. To my son Izaak I give all my

* This book was an instrument in the conversion of Mr. Richard Bax-
ter. See Dr. Calamy's Life of him, page 7.

60 LIFE OF WALTON.

books, not yet given, at Farnham Castell ; and a dcsk«
of prints and pictures ; also a cabinett near my tel's
head, in which are some little things that he will value,
though of no great worth. And my will and desire is,
that he will be kind to his aunt Beachame, and his
aunt Rose Ken ; by allowing the first about fifty shil-
lings a year, in or for bacon and cheese, not more,
and paying four pounds a year towards the boarding
of licr son's dyet to Mr. John Whitehead : for his
aunt Ken, I desire him to be kind to her, according
to her necessity and his own abilitie ; and I commend
one of her children, to breed up as I have said I intend
to do, if he shall be able to do it, as I know he will ;
for they be good Iblke. I give to Mr. John Darby-
shire the Serfnons — of Mr. Anthony Farringdon — or,
of Dr. Sanderson; which, ray executor thinks fit. To
my servant, Thomas Edgill, I give- five pound
in money, and all my cloths linen and woollen — except
one suit of cloths, which I give to Mr. Hollinshed,
and forty shillings — if the said Thomas be my servant
at my death ; if not, my cloths only. And 1 give my
old friend, Mr. Richard Marriot *, ten pounds ia
money, to be .paid him within three months after my
death ; and I desire my son to shew kindness to him if
he shall neede, and my son can spare it. And I do
hereby will and declare my son Izaak to be my sole
executor of this my last will and testament; and Doctor
Hawkins, to see that he performs it ; which I doubt
not but he will. I desire my burial may be near the
place of my death, and free from any ostentation or
charge, but privately. This I make to be my last will,
(to which I shall only add the codicil for rings,) this
sixteenth day of August, one thousand six hundred
eighty three. Izaak Walton. Witness to this will.
The rings I give, are as on the other side. To my
brother John Ken ; to my Sister his wife ; to my bro-
ther, Doctor Ken ; to my sister Fi/e ; to Mr. Francis,
Morley ; to Mr. George Vernon ; to his wife ; to his
three Daughters ; to Mrs. Nelson , to Mr. Richard

f Bookfeller, and his Publisher.

LIFE OF WALTON. 61

Walton; to Mr. Palmer ,- to Mr. Taylor; to Mr. The,
Garrard; to the lord bishop of Sarum ; to Mr. Rede^
his servant; to my cousin Dorothy Kenrick ; to my
cousin Lewin ; to Mr. Walter Higgs ; to Mr. Charles
Cotton; to Mr, Richard 3Iarryot : — 22. To my bro-
ther Beach am; to my Sister his wife ; to the lady Anne
How; to Mrs. King; Doctor Phillips's Wife; to Mr.
Valentine Ilarecourt ; to Mrs. Eliza Johnson; to Mrs.
Mary Rogers ; to Mrs. Eliza Milward; to Mrs. Do-
rothy Wollop ; to Mr. jyHl. Milward^ of Christ-church,
Oxford; to Mr, John Darby shire ; to Mr. Undeiill;
to Mrs. Rock; to Mr. Peter White; to Mr. John
Lloyde ; to my cousin CreinseWs Widow ; Mrs. Dalbin
must not be forgotten : — 16. Izaak Walton. Note^
that several lines are blotted out of this will, for they
were twice repeated, — and that this will is now signed
and sealed this twenty and fourth day of October, one
thousand six hundred eighty three, in the presence of
us : Witness, Abraham Markland, Jos. Tayi^r,
Thomas Crawley.

TO THE

RIGHT WORSHIPFUL

JOHN OFFLEY,

OF

MADELEY MANOR, IN THE COUNTY OF STAFFORD ESQ.

My Most Honoured Friend,

SIR,

I HAVE made so ill use of your former fa-
vours, as by them to be encouraged to intreat,
that they may be enlarged to the patronage and
protection of this book. And I have put on a
modest confidence, that I shall not be denied,
because it is a discourse of fish and fishing, which
you know so well, and both love and practise
so much.

You are assured, though there be ignorant

Ixiy THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY.

men of another belief, that AngHng is an art i
and you know that art better than others 5 and
that this truth is demonstrated, by the fruits of
that pleasant labour which you enjoy,— when
you purpose to give rest to your mind, and
divest yourself of your more serious business,
and (which is often) dedicate a day or two to
this recreation.

At which time, if common anglers should at-
tend you, and be eye-witnesses of the success,
not of your fortune but your i§kill, it would doubt*
less beget in them an emulation to be like you,
and that emulation might beget an industrious
diligence to be so j but I know it is not attain-
able by common capacities. And there be
now many men of great wisdom, learning, and
experience, which love and practise this art,
that know I speak the truth.

Sir, this pleasant curiosity of fish and fishings

THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY; IXV

of which you are so great a master, has been
thought worthy the pens and practices of divers in
other nations, that havebeen reputed men of great
learning and wisdom. And amongst those of this
nation, I remember Sir Henry Wotton (a dear lover
of this art) has told me, that his intentions were to
write a discourse of the art, and in praise of
angling ; and doubtless he had done so, if death
had not prevented him; the remembrance of
which hath often made me sorry ; for if he had
lived to do it, then the unlearned angler had
seen some better treatise of this art, a treatise
that might have proved worthy his perusal,
which, though some have undertaken, I could
never yet see in EngHsh.

But mine may [be thought as weak, and as
unworthy of common view; and I do here freely
confess, that I should rather excuse myself, than
censure others: my own discourse being liable
to so many exceptions; against which you. Sir,

E

Ixvi THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY.

might make this one, that it can contribute
nothing to your knowledge. And lest a longer
epistle may diminish your pleasure, I shall make
this no longer than to add this following truth,
that I am really,

SIR,

Your most affectionate Friend,
and most humble Servant,

Iz. Wa.

C 67 ]

TO AIL

READERS

OF THIS ;

BISCOUMSE,

BUT ESPECIALLY TO

THE HONEST ANGLER.

/ THINK ft to tell thee these following truths, that
I did neither undertake, nor write, nor publish, and
much less own, this discourse to please mi/self: and,
having been too easily drawn to do all to please others,
as 1 propose not the gaining of credit by this under ^
taking, so I would not wiUinglt/ lose any part of that
to which I had a just title before I begun it, and do
therefore desire and hope, if I deserve not commenda*
tions, yet I may obtain pardon,

j4nd though this discourse may he liable to some ex-
ceptions^ yet I cannot doubt but that most readers may
receive so much pleasure or profit by it, as may make it
worthy the time of their perusal, if they be not too
grave or too busy men. And this is all the confidence
that I can pu on, concerning the merit of what is
here offered to their consideration and censure ; and if
the last prove too severe, as I have a liberty, so I am
resolved to use ity and neglect all sour censures.

B 2

(38 WALTON TO THE HEADER.

And I wish the reader also to tahe notice^ that in writ-
ing of it I have made myself a recreation of a recrea-
tion; and that U mi^ht prove so to him, and not read
dull and tediousTi/ ^ I ha've in several places mixed, not
any scurrility, hut some imiocent, harmless mirth, of
which, if thou he a severe, sour-complexioned man^
then 1 here disallow thee to be a competent judge ; for
divines say, there are offences given, and offences not
giren but taken.

And I am the willinger to justify the pleasant part
of it, because though it is hnown I can he serious at
seasonable times, yet the whole discourse is, or rather
was, a picture of my own disposition, especially in such
days and times as I have laid aside business, and gone
a fishing with honest Nat. and R. Roe * ; but they are
gone, and with them most of my pleasant hours, even
as a shadow that passeth away, and returns not.

And next let me add this, that he that likes not the
book, should like the excellent picture of the Trout, and
some of the other fish : which I may take a liberty to^
commend^ because they concern not myself.

Next let mt tell the reader, that in that which is the
more useful part of this discourse, that is to say, the ob"
servations of the nature and breeding, and seasons,, and
catching of fish, I am not so simple as not to know, that
a captiou^s reader may find exceptions against some-
thing said of some of these; and therefore I must en-
treat him to consider, that experience teaches us to
know that several countries alter the time, and I think
almost the manner, of fishes^ breeding, but doubtless
of their being in season ; as may appear by three ri-
vers in Monmouthshire, namely, Severn, Wje, and
\]^]s, where Camden, Brit. f. (y^S, observes, that in the
river Wye, Salmon are in season from September to
April ; and we are certain, that in Thames and Trent,
and in most other rivers, they be in season the six hot-
ter months.

* These persons are supposed to have been related to Walton, from
this circumstance, that in a copy, handed down, of his Lives of Dfrnne^ Sir
In. fVotton, Hooier, and Herbert, there it written by the Author on the
frontispiece, « For my cousin Roe,'* ..... s

WALTON TO THE READEH. 60

NoWf for the Art of catching fish, that is to sa^y
How to make — a man that was none, to be an angler
' — hy a hook; he that undertakes il, shall undertake
a harder task than Mr. Hales, a most valiant and
excellent fencer, who in a printed hook called, A pri-
vate School of Defence, undertook to teach that art
or science, and was laughed at for his labour. Not
but that many useful things might he learnt by that
book: but he was laughed at because that art was not
to be taught by words but practice^' and so must
angling. And note also, that in this discourse I do
not undertake to say all that is known, or may be
said of it, but I undertake to acquaint the reader with
many things that are not usually known to every an-
gler ; and I shall leave gleanings and observations,
enough, to be made out of the experience of all that
love and practise this recreation, to which I shall
encourage them. For angling may he said to be so
like the mathematicks, that it can never be fully
learnt; at least ?2ot so fully, but that there will still
be more new experiments left for the trial of other
men that succeed us.

But I think all that love this game may here learn
something that may be worth their money, if they he
not poor and needy men; and in case they he, I
then wish them to forbear to buy it ; for I tDrite not
to get money, but for pleasure, and this discourse
boasts of no more ; Jor I hate to promise much, and
deceive the reader.

And however it proves to him, yet 1 nm sure I
hav^ found a high content in the search and confe^
rence of what is here offered to the reader's viezo and
censure : 1 wish him as much in the perusal of it^
and so I might here take my leave ; but will stay a
little and tell him, that whereas it is said by many^
that in fly-fishing for a Trout, the angler must ob»
serve his twelve several flies for the twelve months
of the year: I say, he that follows that rule, shall
be as sure to catch fish, and be as wise, as he that
makes hay by the fair days in an almanack, and no
surer; for those very flies that use to appear about

E 3

70 WALTON TO THE READER.

and on the water in one month of the year, may the
following year come almost a month sooner or
later, as the same year proves colder or hotter : and
yet, in the following Discourse, / have set down
the twelve Jlies that are in reputation with many
anglers ; and they may serve to give him some ob-
servations concerning them. And he may note^ that
there are in Wales and other countries, peculiar
flies, proper to the particular place or country ; and
doubtless, unless a man makes a fiy to counterfeit
that very fly in that place, he is like to lose his la-
hour, or much of it; but for the generality, three
or four flies, neat and rightly made, and not too big,
serve for a Trout in most rivers, all the summer.
And for winter fly-fishing— zV is as useful as an aU
manack out of date ! And of these, because as no
man is born an artist y so no man ts born an angler,
I thought ft to give thee this notice.

When I have told the reader, that in this fifth *
impression there are many enlargements, gathered
both by my own observation, and the communication
with friends, I shall stay him no longer than to wish
him a rainy evening to read this following discourse ;
and that^ if he be^an honest angler, the east wind
may never blow when he goes a fishing,

t W.

* The fifth, as it is the last of the editions published in the author'*
life-time, has been carefully followed in the present publication. See the
Author'* Life,

C " 3
COMMENDATORY VERSES.

TO MY DEAR BROTHER

IZAAK WALTON,

uroN Hit

COMPLETE ANGLER.

ERASMUS in his learned Colloquies
Has mixt some toys, that by varieties
He might entice all readers : for in him
Each child may wade, or tallest giant swim.
And such is this discourse : there's none so low,
Or highly learn'd, to whom hence may not flow
'Pleasure and information : both which are
I Taught us with so much art, that I might sweari
Safely, the choicest critick cannot tell,
Whether your matchless judgment most excell
In angling, or its praise : where commendation
First charms ; then, makes an art a recreation.
'Twas so to me ; who saw the chearful spring
Pictur'd in every meadow, heard birds sing
Sonnets in every grove, saw fishes play
In the cool crystal springs, like lambs in May :
And they may play, till anglers read this book/
But after, 'tis a wise fish 'scapes a hook.

Jo. Floud, Mr, of Arts.

. .E 4

79 COMMENDATORY VERSES.

READER

COMPLETE ANGLER,

FIRST mark the title well : my Friend that gave it
Has made it good ; this book deserves to have it.
For he that views it with judicious looks,
Shall find it full of art, baits, lines, and hooks.

(The world the river is; both you and f,
And all mankind, are either fish or fry.)
If we pretend to reason, first or last
His baits will tempt us, and his hooks hold fast.
Pleasure or profit, either prose or rhime.
If not at first, will doubtless take in time.

Here sits, in secret, blest theology,
Waited upon by grave philojsophy
Both natural and moral ; history,
Deck'd and adorn'd with flowers of poetry,
The matter and expression striving which
Shall most excel in worth, yet seem not rich.
There is no danger in his baits ; tliat hook
Will prove the safest, that is surest took.

Nor are we cai^ght alone, — but, which is best,
We shall be wholsome, and be toothsome, drest ;
Drest to be fed, not to be fed upon :
And danger of a surfeit here is none.
The solid food of serious contemplation
Us sauc'd, here, with such harmless recreation,
That an ingenuous and religious mind
Cannot inquire, for more than it may find

COMMENDATORY VERSES. 73

Ready at once prepared, either t'excite
Or satisfy a curious appetite.

More praise is due : for 'tis both positive
And truth — which, once, was interrogative.
And utter'd by the poet, then, in jest —
Et p iscatorem piscis amare potest.

Cii. Ha R VIE, Mr* of Arts*,

♦ Supposed to be CbrhU/>hr HarvU, for whom see Atbrn. Dxoru Vai L
& vidt infra, p. 166, n.

74 COMMENDATORY VERSES.

TO MY DEAR FRIEND

MR. IZ. WALTON ;

IN

PRAISE OF ANGLING;

WHICH WE BOTH LOVE.

DOWN by this smooth stream*s wand'ring side,

Adorn'd and perfum'd with the pride

Of Flora's wardrobe, where the shrill

Aerial choir express their skill —

First, in alternate melody ;

And, then, in chorus all agree —

Whilst the charm'd fish, as extasy'd

With sounds, to his own throat deny*d,

Scorns his dull element, and springs

I' th' air, as if his fins were wings.

'Tis here that pleasures sweet and high
Prostrate to our embraces lie ;
Such as to body, soul or fame,
Create no sickness, sin or shame :
Roses, not fenc*d with pricks, grow here;
No sting to th' honey-bag is near:
But, what's perhaps their prejudice,
They difficulty want and price.

COMMENDATORY VERSES. 75

An obvious rod, a twist of hair.
With hook hid in an insect, — are
Engines of sport would fit the wish
O' th' Epicure, and fill his dish.

In this clear stream, let fall a grub ;
And, strait, take up a Dace or Chuh,
V th* mud, your worm provokes a snig;
Which being fast, if it prove big,
The Gotham folly will be found
Discreet, ere ta'en she must be drown*d.
The Tench ^ physician of the brook,
In yon dead hole expects your hook ;
Which having first your pastime been.
Serves then for meat or medicine.
Ambush'd behind that root doth stay
A Pike ; to catch — and be a prey.
The treacherous quill in this slow stream
Betrays the hunger of a Bream,
And at that nimble ford, no doubt.
Your false fly cheats a speckled Trout.

When you these creatures wisely chuse
To practise on, which to your use
Owe their creation, — and when
Fish from your arts do rescue men, —
To plot, delude, and circumvent,
Ensnare and spoil, is innocent.
Here by these crystal streams you may
Preserve a conscience clear as they ;
And when by sullen thoughts you find
Your harrassed, not busied, mind
In sable melancholy clad,
Distemper'd, serious, turning sad ;
Hence fetch your cure, cast in your bait,
All anxious thoughts and cares will strait
Fly with such speed, they'll seem to be
Possest with the Hydrophohie.
The water's calmness in your breast,
And smoothness on your brow shall rest.
Away with sports of charge and noise^
And give me ch^ap and silent joys.

76 COMMENDATORY- VERSES.

r Such as AcIceoyCs game pursue,

Their fate oft makes the tale seem true*
.The sick or sullen hawk, to-day,
Flies not ; to-morrow quite away.
Patience and purse to cards and dice
Too oft are made a sacrifice :
The daughter's dower, th' inheritance
O' th' son, depend on one mad chance.
The harms and mischiefs which th' abuse
Of wine doth every day produce,
Make good the doctrine of the Turks,
That in each grape a devil lurks.
And by yon fading sapless tree,
'Bout which the ivy twin'd you see,
His fate's foretold, who fondly places
His bliss in woman's soft embraces.
All pleasures but the angler's, bring
r th' tail repentance like a sting.

Then on these banks let me sit down.
Free from the toilsome sword and gown;
And pity those that do affect
To conquer nations and protect.
My reed affords such true content,
Delights so sweet and innocent.
As seldom fall unto the lot
Of scepters, though they're justly got.

1649. Tho. Weaver, Mr, of Arts.

COM IVt EN DA TORY TERSES. 77

TO THE

READERS

or
MY MOST INGENIOUS FRIEND'S BOOK,

THE COMPLETE ANGLER,

HE that both knew and writ the Lives of men,
Such as were once, but must not be again ;
Witness his matchless Donne and fVotton, by
Whose aid he could their speculations try :
He that conversed with angels, such as were
Ouldsworth * and Featly t, each a shining star
Shewing the way to Bethlem ; each a saint,
Corapar'd to whom our zealots, now, but paint.
jHe that our pious^nd learn'd Morley ^ knew.
And from him suck*d wit and devotion too.
lie that from these such excellencies fetch'd,
That//e could tell how high and far they reach'd;
What learning this, what graces th' other had ;
And in what several dress each soul was clad.

Reader, this He, this fisherman, comes forth.

And in these fisher's weeds would shroud his worth.

* Dr. Richard Holdsworth. See an account of him in the Fast, Oxen.
$K)7; and in Ward's Zi<y<?j of the Gresham Professors.
f Dr. Daniel Featly, for whom see Atbtn. Oxon. 603,
•j- Dr. George Morfcy, bishop of Winchester.

78 COMMENDATORY VFRSES.

Now his mute harp is on a willow hung,

With which when finely touched, and fitly strung^.

He could friend's passions for these times allay,

Or chain his fellow an skiers from their prey.

But now the rausick of his pen is still,

And he sits by a brook watching a quill :

Where with a fixt eye, and a ready hand,

He studies first to hook, and then to land

Some Trouty or Pearch^ or Pihe ; and having done,

Sits on a bank, and tells how this was won, —

And that escap'd his hook, which with a wile

Did eat the bait, and fisherman beguile.

Thus whilst some vex they from their lands are

thrown.
He joys to think the waters are his own ;

And like the Dutch, he gladly can agree
To live at peace now, and have fishing free.

jfpril 3y 1650. Edw. Powel, Mr, of Arts.

COMMENDATORY VERSES. l9

TO MY DEAR BROTHER

MR. IZ. WALTON,

ON HIS

COMPLETE ANGLER.

THIS book is so like you, and you like it.
For harmless mirth, expression, art and wit.
That I protest, ingenuously 'tis true,
I love this mirth, art, wit, the book and yon.

Rob. Floud, C.

?: [ 80 ]

LAUDATORUM CARMINA.

CLARISSIMO AMICISSIMOQUE FRATRI,

DOMINO ISAACO WALTON,

ARTIS PISCATORIiE PERITISSIMO,

UNICUS est medicus reliquorum piscis, & istis.
Fas quibus est raedicum tangere, certa salus.

Hie typus est salvatoris mirandus Jesu,
♦ Litera mysterium quaslibet hujus habet.

Hunc cupio, hunc cupias, bonefraterarundinis,tx^»v;

+ Solverit bic pro me debita, teque Deo.
Piscis is est, & piscator, mihi credito, qualem

Vel piscatorem piscis amare velit.

♦ 'iXeY'Z, Pisci9.

I 'invS^y Jesus.
X Xfiros, Christus.
© ©eS, Dei,
T *T»oy, FiUus,
X XfSli}§, Salvalor,

f Matt* xvii. 27, the la^ words of the chapter.

Henry Bailey, Artium Magister,

LATJDATORUM CARMINA. 61

AD VIRUM OPTIMUM

ET

PISCATOREM PERITISSIMUM,

ISAACUM WALTONUM.

MAGISTER artis docte piscatoriae,
Waltone, salve ! magne dux arundinis,
Seu tu reductavalle solas ambulas,
Praterfluentes interim observans aquas,
Seu for(^ puri stans in amnis margine,
Sive in tenaci gramine & ripa sedens,
Fallis perita squameum pecus manu ;
O te beatum ! qui procul negotiis,
Forique & urbis pulvere & strepitu carens,
Exlraque turbam, ad len^ manantes aquas
Vagos honesta fraude pisces decipis.
Dum caBtera ergo poene gens mortalium
Aut retia invicem sibi & technas struuut,
Donis^ ut hamo, aut divites captant senes,
Gregi natantum tu interim nectis dolos.
Voracem inescas advenam hamo luciuniy
Avidamv^ percam parvulo alberno capis,
Aut verrae ruffo, muscula aut truttam levi,
Cautumv^ cyprinum, & fer^ indocilem capi
Calarooque linoque, ars at hunc superat tua,
Medicamv^ tincam, gohium aut esca trahis,
Gratum palato gobium^ parvura licet,
Praedamve, non aeque salubrem harbulum,
Etsi ampliorem, et mystace insignem gravi,
Ha3 sunt tibi artes, dum annus & tempus sinunt^
Et nulla transit absque linea dies.
Nee sola praxis, sed tbeoria & tibi
Nota artis hujus ; unde tu simul bonus
Piscator, idem & scriptor ; & calami potens
♦ E

B2 LAUDATORUM CARMINA.

Utriusque necdum & ictus, & tamen sapis.

Ut hamiotam nempe tironem instruas !

Stylo elegant! scribis en Halieutica

Oppianus alter artis & methodum tu*e, &

Pracepta prorais rite piscatoria,

Varias & escas pisciura, indolem & genus.

Nee tradere artem sat putas piscariam,

(Virtutis est hoec & tamen quasdara schola

Patientiamque & temperantiam docet,)

Documenta quin majora das, & regulas

Sublimioris artis, & perennia

Moninienta morem, vitae & exempla optima,—

Diim tu profundum scribis Hookerum ; & pium

Donnum ac disertum; sanctum & Herhertuniy

sacrum
Vatem ; hos videmus nam penicillo tuo
Graphice, & perita, Isace, depictos manu.
Post fata factos hosce per te Virbios*.
O quae voluptas est legere in scriptis tuis !
Sic tu libris nos, lineis pisces capis,
Musisque litterisque dum incumbis, licet
Intentus hamo, interque piscandum studes.

• ViRBXus ^uasi BIS viR, is an epithet applied to Hippolytus, be-
cause he was by Diana restored to life after his death. Fide Ovidii
Met. lib. XV. V. 536 tff seq. HofFmanni Lexicon Universale y art. VIRBIUS.
In this place it is meant to express that by Walton s skill in biography,
those persons whose lives he has written, are so accurately repre
•ented, as that even after their deaths, they are again, as it were ,
brought to life.

LAUDATO RUM CARMINA. 83

ALIUD AD

ISAACUM WALTONUM,

VIRUM & PISCATOREM OPTIMUM.

ISAACE, Macte hac arte piscatoria ;
Hac arte Petrus principi censum dedit;
Hac arte princeps nee retro multo prior,
Tranquillus ille, teste Tranquillo *, pater
Patriae, solebat recreare se lubens
Augustus, hamo instructus ac ar undine.
Tu nunc. Amice, proximum clari es decus
Post Caesarem hami, gentis ac Halieuticae :
Euge O professor artis haud ingloriae,
Doctor cathedrae, perlegens piscariam !
Nae tu magister, & ego discipulus tuus.
Nam candidatum & me ferunt arundinis,
Socium hac in arte nobilem nacti sumus.
Quid amplius, Waltone, nam dici potest ?
Ipse hamiota Dorainus en orbis fuit !

Jaco. Dup.f D. D.

♦ I. e. Suetontut Tranquillus.

f The contracting of surnames is a faulty practice : the above miglt
ttand for « Duppa," but signifies " Duport" This person was a Fellow
of Trinity^ College, Cambridge, and Professor of Greek in that Univer-
sity. His father, Johttt had a hand in the translation of king James's Bible,
fuller's Cb. Hist. Book X. p. 46. Dr. James Duport wrote, also, the Latin
yerses preceding these ; and both copies are extant in a volume of Latin
Poems by him, entitled Musa subitdvay printed at Cambridge, in
«vo. 1676.

iiilftf t'tirSJhwwlfr Iflo/f.

THE

COMFILETJE ANGILER?

OR, THE

CONTEMPLATIVE MAN's RECREATION.

PART I.

CHAPTER I,

A Conprence betwixt an Angler, a Hunter, and a
Falconer; each commending his Recreation,

PISCATOR, VENATOR, AUCEPS,

PiSCATOR.

YOU are well overt.iken, Gentlemen, a good morning
to you both ; I have stretched my legs up Tottenham
hill to overtake you, hoping your business may occa-
sion you towards Ware, wluther I am going this fine,
fresh May morning.

Venator, Sir, 1 for my part shall almost answer
your hopes ; for my purpose is to drink my morning's
draught at the ThatchM-liousc in Hodsden, and I think
not to rest till I come thither, where I have appointed
a friend or two to meet me : but for this gentleman that
you see with me, I know not how far he intends his
journey ; he came so lately into my company, that 1
have scarcely had time to ask him the question,

f

86 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

Auceps. Sir, I shall by your favour bear you com-
pany as far as Theobalds *, and there leave you ; for
then I turn up to a friend's house, who mews a Hawk
for me, which I now lon^r to see.

Ven. Sir, we are all so happy as to have a fine,
fresh, cool morning, and I hope we shall each be the
happier in the other's company. And, Gentlemen,
that I may not lose yours, I shall either abate, or amend
my pace to enjoy it ; knowing that, as the Italians
say, Good company in a journey makes the way to
seem the shorter.

Auc. It may do so, Sir, with the help of good
discourse, which, methinks, we may promise from you,
that both look and speak so chearfully : and for my
part I promise you, as an invitation lo it, that I will
be as free and open-hearted, as discretion will allow mo
to be with strangers.

Ven, And, Sir, I promise the like.

Pise, I am right glad to hear your answers ; and, in
confidence you speak the truth, I shall put on a bold-
ness to ask you. Sir, whether business or pleasure caus-
ed you to be so early up, and walk so fast ; for this
other gentleman hath declared he is going to see a
hawk, that a friend mews for him.

Few. Sir, mine is a mixture of both, a little busi-
ness and more pleasure ; for I intend this day to do all
my business, and then bestow another day or two in
hunting the Otter, which a friend that I go to meet,
tells me, is much pleasanter than any other chace what-
soever ; howsoever I mean to try it ; for to-morrow
morning we shall meet a pack of Otter-dogs of noble
Mr. Sadler s^ upon Amwell'Iiill, who will be there so
early, that they intend to prevent the sun-rising.

♦ Theobalds t in the county of Hertford ; a house built by Lord Bur-
leigh, and much improved by his son, Robert Earl of Salisbury ; who
exchanged it with King James the First for Hatfield. Camdi Brit.
Herttord SHIRE. See also, Sir A. Weldon's Court and Char, of King
yamesy 51.

The park has been converted into farms. The small remains of
Theobalds were demolished in 1765 by Mr. Prescott, who leased out the
nte of it to a builder, and erected a house for himself, about a mile to the
south of it.— It is now <1807) the seat of Sir G. W. Prescott, Bart.

CHAF. I. THE COMPLETE ANGLEK. 87

Pise. Sir, my fortune has answered my desires, and
my purpose is to bestow a day or two in helping to
destroy some of those villainous vermin, for I hate
them perfectly, because they love fish so well, or ra-
ther, because tbey destroy so much; indeed so much,
that in my judgment^ ail men that keep Otter-dogs,
ought to have pensions from the King to encourage them
to destroy the breed of these base Otters, tliey do so
much miscliief.

Ven, But what say you to the Foxes of the nation,
would not you as willingly have them destroyed ? for
•doubtless they do as much mischief as Otters do.

Pise, Oh Sir, if they do, it is not so much to me
and my fraternity, as those base vermin the Otters do.

Auc, Why, Sir, I pray, of what fraternity are
you, that you are so angry with the poor Otters ?

Pise, I am. Sir, a Brother of the Angle, and there-
fore an enemy to the Otter : for you are to note, that
we Anglers all love one another, andtherefore do I hate
the Otter both for my own, and for their sakes who are
of my brotherhood.

Ven, And I am a lover of Hounds ; I have followed
many a pack of dogs many a mile, and heard many
merry Huntsmen make sport and scoff at Anglers.

Auc. And I profess myself a Falconer, and have
heard many grave, serious men pity them, it is such a
heavy, contemptible, dull recreation.

Pise, You know, Gentlemea, it is an easy thing
to scoff at any art or recreation ; a little wit mixed
with ill-nature, confidence, and malice, will do it ; but
though they often venture boldly, yet they are often
4;aught, even in their own trap, according to that of
Lucian, the father of the family of Scoffers :

Iiucian, well skilled in scoffing, this hath writ.
Friend, that's your folly, which you think your wit :
This you vent oft, void both of wit and fear,
Meaning another, when yourself you jeer.

If to this you add what Solomon says of Scoffers,
that they are an abomination to mankind, let him that
thinks fit scoff on., and be a Scoffer still ; but I ac-

f2

88 THE COMPLETE ANGLER, PART I.

count them enemies to me and all that love virtue and
Angling.

And for you that have heard many grave, serious^
men pity Anglers ; let tell me you, Sir, there be many-
men that are by others taken to be serious and grave
men, whom we contemn and pity. Men that are taken
to be grave, because nature hath made them of a sour
complexion ; money-getting men, men that spend all
their time, firrst in getting, and next, in anxious care
to keep it; mm that are condemned to be rich, and
then always busy or discontented : for these poor rich-
men, we Anglers pity them perfectly, and stand in no
need to borrow their thoughts to think ourselves so
happ3^ No, no, Sir, we enjoy a contentedness above
the reach of such dispositions, and as the learned
and ingenuous Montaigne * says — like himself, freely,
*' When my Cat and I entertain each other with mu-
** tual apish tricks, as playing with a garter, who
*^ knows but that 'I make my Cat more sport, than she
*^ makes me ? Shall I conclude her to be simple, that
*' has her time to begin or refuse to play as freely as I
*' myself have ? Nay, who knows but that it is a
*' defect of my not understanding her language (for
'^ doubtless Cats talk and reason with one another)
*' that we agree no better : and who knows but that
*' she pities me for being no wiser, than to play with
*' her, and laughs and censures my folly, for making
^^ sport for her, when we two play together ?"

Thus freely speaks Montaigne concerning Cats, and
I hope I may take as great liberty to blame any man,
and laugh at him too, let him be never so grave, that
Lath not hoard what Anglers can say in the justification
of their Art and Recreation ; which I may again tell
you, is so full of pleasure, that we need not borrow
their thoughts, to think ourselves happy.

Ven, Sir^ you have almost amazed me, for though
I am no Scoffer, yet I have, I pray let me speak it
without offence, ahvays looked upon Anglers, as more
patient, and more simple, men, than I fear I shall find
you to be.

* In Apol. for JRaim, dt Sthnde,

CHAP. I. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 89

Pise, Sir, I hope you will liot judge my earnest-
ness to be impatience: and for my simplicity^ if by
that you mean a liarmlessnesSj or that simplicity which
was usually found in the primitive Christians, who
were, as most Anglers are, quiet men, and followers
of peace ; men that were so simply wise, as not to sell
their Consciences to buy riches, and with them vexa-
tion and a fear to die ; if you mean such simple men
as lived in those times when tliere were fewer Lawyers ;
when men might have had a Lordship safely conveyed
to them in a piece of parchment no bigger than your
hand, though several sheets will not do it safely in this
wiser age ; I say, Sir, if you take us Anglers to be
such simplf* men as I have spoke of, then myself and
those of my profession will be glad to be so understood :
But if by simplicity you meant to express a general
defect in those that profess and practise the excellent
Art of Angling, I hope in time to disabuse you, and
make the contrary appear so evidently, that if you will
but have patience to hear me, I shall remove all the
anticipations that discourse, or time, or prejudice, have
possessed you with against that laudable and ancient
Art ; for 1 know it is worthy the knowledge and prac-
tice of a wise man.

But, Gentlemen, though I be able to do this, I am
not so unmannerly as to engross all the discourse to
myself; and therefore, you two having declared your-
selves, the one to be a lover of Hawks, the other of
Hounds, I shall be most glad to hear what you can say
in the commendation of that recreation which each of
you love and practise ; and having heard what you can
say, I shall be glad to exercise your attention with
what I can say concerning my own recreation and art
of Angling, and by this means, we shall make the
way seem the shorter : and if you like my motion, I
would have Mr. Falconer to begin.

yiuc» Your motion is consented to with all my heart,
and to testify it, I will begin as you have desired me.

And first, for the Element that 1 use to trade in,
which is the Air, an Element of more worth than
weight, an Element that doubtless exceeds both ih«

f3

^ THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART T,

Earth and Water; for tliowgh I sometimes deal in.
both, yet the Air is most properly mine, I and my
Hawks use that, and it yields us most recreation; it
stops not the high soaring of my noble, generous FaU
con ; in it she ascends to such an height, as the dull
eyes of beasts and fish are not able to reach to ; their
bodies are too gross for such high elevations ; in the
Air my tioops of Hawks soar up on high, and when*
they are lost in the sight of men, then they attend upon
and converse with the gods ; therefore I think my Eagle
is so justly stiled Jove's servant in ordinary : and that
very Falcon, that I am now going to see, deserves na
meaner a title, for she usually in her flight endangers
herself, like the son of Daedalus, to have her ^vings
scorched by the Sun's heat, she flies so near it, but her
mettle makes her careless of danger ; for then she heeds-
nothing, but makes her nimble Pinions cut the fluid
air, and so makes her highway over the steepest moun-
tains and deepest rivers, and in her glorious career looks
with contempt upon those high Steeples and magnifi-
cent Palaces which we adore and wonder at ; from
which height, I can make her to descend by a word
from my mouth (which she both knows and obeys>
to accept of meat from my hand,, to own me for her
Master, to go home with me, and be willing the next
day to afford me the like recreation.

And more; this element of air which I profess to
trade in, the worth of it is such, and it is of such ne-
cessity, that no creature whatsoever — not only those
numerous creatures that feed on the face of the earth,,
but those various creatures that have their dwelling
within the waters, every creature that hath life in its
nostrils, stands in need of my element. The waters
cannot preserve the Fish without air, witness the not
breaking of ice in an extreme frost; the reason is,, for
that if the inspiring and expiring organ of any animal
be stopped, it suddenly yields to nature, and dies. Thus
necessary is air, to the existence, both of Fish and
Beasts, nay, even to Man himself; that air,, or breath
of life, with which God at first inspired mankind, he,
if he wants it, dies presently, becomes a sad object to

CHAP. I. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 91

all that loved and beheld him, and in an instant turns
to putrefaction.

Nay more, the very birds of the air, those that be not
Hawks, are both so many and so useful and pleasant
to mankind, that 1 must not let them pass without some
observations: they both feed and refresh him; feed
him with their choice bodies, and refresh him with
their heavenly voices * : — I will not undertake to men-
tion the several kinds of Fowl by which this is done : —
and his curious palate pleased by day, and which with
their very excrements afford him a soft lodging at
night : — These I will pass by, but not those little nimble
Musicians of the air, that warble forth their curious
ditties, with which nature hath furnished them to the
shame of art.

As first the Lark, when she means to rejoice ; to
chear herself and those that hear her; she then quits the
earth, and sings as she ascends higher into the air, and
having ended her heavenly employment, grows then
mute, and sad, to think she must descend to the dull
earth, which she would not touch, but for necessity.

How do the Blackbird and Thrassel with their me-
lodious voices bid welcome to the chearful Spring, and
in their fixed months warble forth such ditties as no
art or instrument can reach to!

Nay, the smaller birds also do the like in their par-
ticular seasons, as namely the Leverock, the Tit-lark,
the little Linnet, and the honest Robin that loves man-
kind both alive and dead.

But the TSightingale, another of my airy creatures,
breathes such sweet loud musick out of her little in-
strumental throat, that it might make mankind to
think miracles are not ceased. He that at midnight,
"when the very labourer sleeps securely, should hear, as

* To these particulars, may be added, That the Kings of Persia were
wont to hawk after Butterflies with Sparrows and Stares, or Starlings,
trained for the purpose. Burton en Melancholy ^ 1651. p. 268, from the
relations of Sir Anthony Shirley. And v,e are also told. That M, de
Luynes (afterwards Prime Minister of France,) in the nonage of Lewis
XIII. gained much upon him by making Hawks catch little Birds, and by-
making some of those little Birds, again catch Butterflies.

Life of Lard Herbert of Cberhury, p. 134.

p4f

92 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

I have very often, the clear airs, the sweet descants, the
natural rising and falling, the doubling and redoubling
of her voice, might well be lifted above earth, and say.
Lord, what musick hast thou provided for the Saints
in Heaven, when thou affordest bad men such musick
on Earth !

And this makes me the less to wonder at the manjr
Aviaries in Italy, or at the great charge of Varro his
Aviarie, the ruins of which are yet to be seen in Rome^
and is still so famous there, that it is reckoned for one
of those notables which men of foreign nations either
record, or lay up in their memories when they return
from travel.

This for the birds of pleasure, of which very much
more might be said. My next shall be of birds of po-
litical use; I think 'tis not to be doubted that Swallows
liave been taught to carry letters between two armies.
But 'tis certain that when the Turks besieged Malta or
Rhodes, I now remember not which it was. Pigeons are
then related to carry and recarry letters : And Mr. G.
Sandys *, in his Travels ^ relates it to be done betwixt
Aleppo and Babylon. But if that be disbelieved, it is
not to be doubted that the Dove was sent out of the ark
by Noah, to give him notice of land, when to him all
appeared to be sea> and the Dove proved a faithful and
comfortable messenger. And for the sacrifices of the
law, a pair of Turtle-doves, or young Pigeons, were as
well accepted as costly Bulls and Rams. And when
God would feed the Prophet Elijah, 1 Kin. 17. 6.
after a kind of miraculous manner, he did it by Ra-
vens, who brought him meat morning and evening.
Jjastly, the Holy GlK)st, when lie descended visibly
upon our Saviour, did it by assuming the shape of a
Povet. And, to conclude this part of my discourse,

* Mr. George Sandys, a very pious, learned, and accomplished gen-
tleman, was the youngest son of Dr. Edwin Sandys, Abp. of York. He
published his Travels to the Holy Land., Egypty and elsewhere, in folio,
1615; and made an excellent Paraphrase on the Psalms ^ Canticles ^ and
Jlcelesiastesy inverse; and also translated 0'vid''s Metamorphoses. He was
one of the best versifiers of that age, and died in 1 642.

•f Does not Walton here mistake the sense of two passages in Scripture,
viz. Matt. 3. IG. and Luke 3. 22, in which the baptism of our Lord' is

CHAP. I. THE COMPLETE ANGLER^ 95

pray remember tliese wonders were done by birds of
the air, the element in which they, and I, take so much
pleasure.

There is also a little contemptible winded Creature,
an inhabitant of my aerial element, namely, the labo-
rious Bee, of whose Prudence, Policy, and regular Go-
vernment of their own commonwealth, I might say
much, as also of their several kinds, and how useful
their honey and wax is both for meat and medicines to
mankind*; but I will leave them to their sweet la-
bour, without the least disturbance, believing them to
be all very busy at this very time amongst the herbs
and flowers that we see nature puts forth this May
morning.

And now to return to my Hawks, from whom I have

made too long a digression ; you are to note, that they

are usually distinguished into two kinds ; namely, the

^ong-winged, and the short- winged Hawk : of the first

kind, there be chiefly in use amongst us in this nation.

The Gerfalcon and Jerkin,

Tlie Falcon and Tassel-gentel,

The Laner and Laneret,

The Bockcrel and Bockeret,

The Saker and Sacaret,

The Merlin and Jack Merlin,

The Hobby and Jack :
There is the Stelletto of Spain,

The Blood-red Rook from Turkey,

The Waskite from Virginia :
And there is of short-winged Hawks,

The Eagle and Iron,

The Goshawk and Tar eel.

The Sparhawk and Musket,

The French Pye of two sorts :

related ? The meaning of both is, that the Holy Spirit descended, as a
Dove uses to descend upon any thing, hovering and overshadowing it.
Vide Whitby on Luke 3. 22. Dr. Hammond on the passage, and Bp.
Taylor's Ductor Dubltantiumy 254.

* See the Feminine Monarth; tr Hiitory of Bets^ by Charles Butler,
4to, 1634.

§i

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

These are reckoned Hawks of note and worth, but

we have also of an inferior rank.

The Stanyelj the Ringtail,

The Raven, the Buzzard,

The forked Kite, the Bald Buzzard,

The Hen-driver, and others that I forbear

to name *.

Gentlemen, if I should enlarge my discourse to the
observations of the Eires, the Brancher, the Ramish
Hawk, the Haggard, and the two sorts of Lentners,
and then treat of their several Ayries, their Mewings,
rare order of casting, and the renovation of their fea-
thers : their reclaiming, dieting, and then come to their
rare stories of practice ; I say, if I should enter into
these, and many other observations that I could make,
it would be much, very much pleasure to me : but lest
I should break the rules of civility with you, by taking
up more than the proportion of time allotted to me, i
will here break off, and intreat you, Mr. Venator, to
say what you are able in the commendation of Hunt-
ing, to which you are so much affected ; and if
time will serve, I will beg your favour for a further en-
largement of some of those several heads of which I
have spoken. But no more at present.

Fen, Well, Sir, and I will now take ray turn, and
will first begin with a commendation of the Earth, as
you have done most excellently of the Air ; the Earth
being that element upon which I drive my pleasant,
wholesome, hungry trade. The Earth is a solid, set-
tled element; an element most universally beneficial
both to man and beast ; to men who havd their several
recreations upon it, as horse-races, hunting, sweet
smells, pleasant walks : the earth feeds man, and all
those several beasts that both feed him, and afford him
recreation. What pleasure doth man take in hunting
the stately Stag, the generous Buck, th;^ Wild Boar,
the cunning Otter, the crafty Fox, and the fearful
Hare ! And if I may descend to a lower game, what

* See TurberviUe, Latham, and Markham, en Falconry.

CHAP. I, THE COMPLETE A^TGLER^

9*

pleasure is it sometimes with gins to betray the very
vermin of the earth I as namely, the Fichat, the Full-
mart *, the Ferret, the Pole-cat, the Mouldwarp, and
the like creatures that live upon the face and Avithia
the bowels of the earth. How doth the earth bring
forth herbs, flowers and fruits, both for physick and
*he pleasure of mankind ! and above all, to me at least,
the fruitful vine, of which when I drink moderatelj', it
clears my brain, chears my heart, and sharpens my
wit. How could Cleopatra have feasted Mark Antony
with eight Wild Boars roasted whole at one supper,
and other meat suitable, if the earth had not been a
bountiful mother? But to pass by the mighty Ele-
phant, which the earth breeds and nourisheth, and de»
scend to the least of creatures, how doth the earth af^
ford us a doctrinal example in the little Pismire, who
in the summer provides and lays up her winter pro*
vision, and teaches man to do the like + 1 The earth
feeds and carries those horses that carry us. If I
would be prodigal of my time and your patience, whafc
might, not I say in commendation of the earth ? That
puts limits to the proud and raging sea,— .and by that
means preserves both man and beast, that it destroys
them not, as we see it daily doth those tliat venture
upon the sea, and are there shipwrecked, drowned, and
left to feed Haddocks ; when we that are so wise as to
keep ourselves on earth, walk and talk, and live, and
eat, and drink, and go a hunting : of which recreation
I will say a little, and then leave Mr. Piscator to the
commendation of Angling.

* Dr. Skinner, in his Etymoloct'tcon Ltn^va AngHuina, Lond. fol. 1671,
voce ^^ Fulimartf'' gives us to understandjthat this word is Vox quanusquam^
nisi in I'lbro the " Complete Angler" dicto occurrit. Upon which it may
be observed, that Dame Juliana Barnes, inher^oojf of Huntings ranks the
Fulmarde among the beasts of chace ; and that both in the Dictionary of
Dr. Adam Littleton, and that of Pihillips, entitled the World of WorJs^
it occurs J the first renders it Putorivs^ mus Ponlicus ; the latter a kind
of Polecat. In Junius it is Fullmer ^ and said to be i^iem quod Polecat; but
in this interpretation they seem all to be mistaken, for Walton here
mentions the Polecat by name, as does also Dame Juliana Barnes in her
book.

f See a very curious and entertaining account of the industry and
•agacity of thie little insect in the Guardian, No, 156,

96 ttlE COMPLETE ANGLE*. PART 1<

Hunting is a game for princes and nohle persons ; it
hath been highly prized in all ages ; it was one of the
qualifications that Xenophon bestowed on his Cyrus^
that he was a hunter of wild beasts. Hunting- trains
up the younger nobility to the use of manly exercises in
their riper age. What more manly exercise than
hunting the Wild Boar, the Stag, the Buck, the Fox,
or the Hare ? How doth it preserve health, and increase
streugth and activity !

And for the dogs that we use, who can commend
their excellency to that height which they deserve ?
How perfect is the hound at smelling, who never leaves
or forsakes his first scent, but follows it through so
many changes and varieties of other scents, even over,
and in, the water, and into the earth ! What musick
doth a pack of clogs then make to any man, whose
heart and ears are so happy as to be set to the tune of
such instruments! How will a right Greyhound fix his
eye on the best Buck in a herd, single him out, and
follow him, and him only, through a whole herd of
rascal game, and still know and then kill him ! For
my hounds, — 1 know the language of them, and they
know the language and meaning of one another, as
perfectly as we know the voices of those with whom we
discourse daily.

I might enlarge myself in the commendation of Hunt-
ing, and of the noble Hound especially, as also of the
docibleness of dogs in general ; and I might make
many observations of land-crcatnres, that for compo*
sition, order, figure, and constitution, approach nearest
to the completeness and understanding of man ; espe-
cially of those creatures, which Moses in the Law per-
mitted to the Jews, which have cloven hoofs, and chew
the cud ; whicli I shall forbear io name, because I will
not be so uncivil to Mr. Piscator, as not to allow him
a time for the commendation of Angling, which he calls
an art ; but doubtless it is an easy one : . and Mr. ^w-
ccpsy I doubt we shall hear a watery discourse of it, but
I hope it will not be a long one.

Auc. And I hope so too, though I fear it will.

Pise* Gentlemen, let not prejudice prepossess you.

CHAP. I. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 97

I confess my discourse is like to prove suitable to my
recreation, calm and quiet ; we seldom take the name
of God into our mouths, but it is either to praise him,
or to pray to him ; if others use it vainly in the midst of
their recreations, so vainly as if they meant io conjure,
1 must tell you, it is neither our fault or our custom;
we protest against it. But, pray remember I accuse
nobody ; for as I would not make a watery discourse,
so I would not put too much vinegar into it; nor
would I raise the reputation of my own art, by the di-
minution or ruin of another's*. And so much for
the prologue to what I mean to say.

And now for the Water, the element that I trade in.
The water is the eldest daughter of the creation, the
element upon which the Spirit of God did first move,
the element which God commanded to bring forth liv-
ing creatures abundantly ; and without which, those
that inhabit the land, even all creatures that have
breath in their nostrils, must suddenly return to putre^
faction. Moses, the great lawgiver and chief philo-
sopher, skilled in all the learning of the Egyptians,
who was called the friend of God, and knew the mind
of the Almiglity, names this element the first in the
creation : this is the element upon which the Spirit of
God did first move, and is the chief ingredient in the
creation : many philosophers have made it to com-
prehend all the other elements, and most allow it the
chiefest in the mixtion of all living creatures.

There be that profess to believe that all bodies are
made of water, and may be reduced back again to
water only : they endeavour to demonstrate it thus :

Take a willow, or any like speedy-growing plant,
newly rooted in a box or barrel full of earth weigh
them all together exactly when the trees begin to
grow, and then weigh them all together after the tree
is increased from its first rooting, to weigh an hun-
dred pound weight more than when it was first rooted
and weighed ; and you shall find this augment of the

* A handsome reproof of Senator for the sarcasm at the end of |iis
discourse, nnd of Aueepsiov adopting it.

fB THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I,

tree io be without the diminution of one drachm weiglit
of the earth. Hence they infer this increase of
wood, to be from water or rain, or from dew, and
not to be from any otiicr clement. And they affirm,
they can reduce this wood back again to water; and
they affirm also, the same may be done in any ani-
mal or vegetable. And this I take to be a fair tes-
timony of the excellency of my element of water.

The water is more productive than the earth. Na5',
the earth hath no fruitfulness without showers or dews ;
for all the herbs, and flowers, and fruits, are produced
and thrive by the water ; and the very minerals are fed
by streams that run under ground, whose natural course
carries them to the tops of many high mountains, as we
see by several springs breaking forth on the tops of the
highest hills ; and this is also witnessed by the daily
^rial and testimony of several miners^

Nay, the increase of those creatures that are bred
and fed in the water, are not only more and more
miraculous, but more advantageous to man, not only
for the lengthening of his life, but for preventing
of sickness ; for it is observed by the most learned
physicians, that the casting ofi' of Lent, and otlier fish-
days, which hath not only given the lie to so many
learned, pious, wise founders of colleges, for which
we should be ashamed, has doubtless been the chief
cause of those many putrid, shaking, intermitting
agues, unto which this nation of ours is now more
subject, than those wiser countries that feed on
herbs, sallets, and plenty of fish; of which it is
observed in story, that the greatest part of the world
now do. And it may be fit to remember that
Moses, Lev, 11. 9. Dent. 14, 9. appointed fish to be
the chief diet for the best commonwealth that ever yet
^vas.

And it is observable, not only that there are fish,
as namely the Whale, three times as big as the mighty
Elephant, that is so fierce in battle, but that the
mightiest feasts have been of fish. The Romans, in
the height of their glory^ have made fish the mistress
of all their entertainments ; they have had rausick

CHAP. I. THE COMPLETE ANGLER." 93

to usher in their Sturgeons, Lampreys, and Mullets,
which they would purchase at rates, rather to be
wondered at than believed. He that shall view the
writings of Macrobius* orVarrot, maybe confirmed
and informed of this, and of the incredible value of
their fish and fish-ponds.

But, Gentlemen, I have almost lost myself, which
I confess I may easily do in this philosophical dis-
course ; I met with most of it very lately, and, I
hope, happily, in a conference with a most learned
physician, Dr. Wharton J, a dear friend, that loves
both me and my art of angling. But however, I
will wade no deeper in these mysterious arguments,
but pass to such observations as I can manage with
more pleasure, and less fear of running into error.
But I must not yet forsake the waters, by whose help
we have so many advantages.

And first, to pass by the miraculous cures of our
known baths, how advantageous is the sea for our
daily traffick, without which we could not now subsist!
How does it not only furnish us with food and physick
for the bodies, but with such observations for the mind
as ingenious persons would not want !

How ignorant had we been of the beauty of Flo-
rence, of the monuments, urns, and rarities that yet
remain in, and near unto old and new Rome, so many
as it is said will take up a year's time to view,
and afford to each of them but a convenient consider-
ation! And therefore it is not to be wondered at,
that so learned and devout a father as St. Jerome,
after his wish to have seen Christ in the Flesh, and

• Aurellus Macrobius, a learned writer of the fourth century; he
was chamberlain to the Emperor Theodosius. fabricius makes it a
question whether he was a Christian or a Pagan* His works are,
A Commentary on the Somnium Scipionis of Cicero^ in two books; and
Saturnalia Convivia^ in teven. Besides these, he was the Author of many,
•which are lost.

f Marcus Terentius Varro, a most learned Roman, contemporary
with Cicero, and author, as it is said, of near five hundred volumes,
]^e is one of the best writers on agriculture.

\ Dr. Thomas Wharton, an eminent physician and excellent anato-
mist, and Grtsbam professor of physick. He lived in Aldersgate-street,
London, and died 1673. Atben. Oxon, 522.

100 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

to bave heard St. Paul preachy makes his third
"wishj to hate seen Rome in Iter glori/ ; and that
glory is not yet all lost, for what pleasure is it to
see the monuments of Livy, the choicest of the his-
torians ; of Tally, the best of orators ; and to see
the bay-trees that now grow out of the very tomb
of Virgil! These, to any that love learning, must be
pleasing. But what pleasure is it to a devout Christian,
to see there the hiimble house in which St. Paul was
content to dwell^ and to view the many rich statues
that are made in honour of his memory ! nay, to

he

see the very place in which St. Peter* and he lie
baried together ! Tliese are in and near Rome. And
how much more doth it please the pious curiosity
©f a Christian, to see that place on which the blessed
Sariour of the world was pleased to humble himself,
and to take our nature upon him, and to converse with
men : and to see mount Sion, Jerusalem, and the very
sepulchre of our Lord Jesus! How may it beget and
heighten the zeal of a Christian, to see the devotions that
are daily paid to him at that place ! Gentlemen, lest I
forget myself, I will stop here, and remember you, that
but for my element of water, the inhabitants of this poor
island must remain ignorant that such things ever were,
or that any of them have yet a being.

* Ttie ProtKtants deny, not only that St. Peter lies buried in the
Vatican, as the Romish writers assert, but that he ever was at
Rome- See the H'utoria Apostolica of Lud. Capellus — ^I'he sense of the
Protestants on this point is expressed in the following epigram, alluding
to the prjenomen of Peter, " Simon," and to the simony practised in
that city:
I

An P<r/r«j fuerat Roma sub jpdice Hi est,
^ Simonem Roma nemo fuisse negat.

Many that " Peter ne'er saw Rome" declare,
But ail must own tliat Simon hath been there.

Of which that may be observed which I have heard said of libels,* ** the
more true the more provoking ;'* and this the author, J olm Owen, the
famous epigrammatist, found to his cost ; for his uncle, a Papist, was so
stung by these lines, that, in revenge, he disinherited him, and doomed
him to extreme poverty the remainder of his life. Athen. Oxon, Vol. I.
471. The Romanists have also taken their revenge on the book that
contains them, by inserting it in their IndcK Etcjf/urgatorius, Ibid.

CHAP. I. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 101

Gentlemen, 1 might both enlarge and lose myself in
such like arguments ; I might tell you that Almighty
God, is said to have spoken to a fish, but never to a
beast ; that he hath made a whale a ship, to carry and
set his prophet, Jonah, safe on the appointed shore.
Of these I might speak, but I must in manners break
oiF, for I see Theobalds house. I cry you mercy for be-
ing so long, and thank you for your patience.

Auc. 8ir, my pardon is easily granted you : I ex- ,
cept against nothing that you have said ; nevertheless, I
must part with you at this park-wall, for which I am
very sorry ; but I assure you, Mr. Piscatory I now
part with you full of good thoughts, not only of your-
self, but your recreation. And so. Gentlemen, God
keep you both .

Pise. Well, now, Mr. Venator^ j^ou shall neither
want time, nor my attention to hear you enlarge your
discourse concerning hunting.

Ven. Not I, Sir : I remember you said that angling
itself was of great antiquity, and a perfect art, and an
art not easily attained to ; and you have so won upon
me in your former discourse, that I am very desirous
to hear what you can say further concerning those
particulars.

Pise, Sir, I did say so : and I doubt not but if you
and I did converse together but a few hours, to leave
you possessed with the same high and happy thoughts
that now possess me of it ; not only of the antiquity
of angling, but that it deserves commendations ; and
that it is an art, and an art worthy the knowledge and
practice of a wise man.

Ven, Pray, Sir, speak of them what you think fit,
for we have yet five miles to the Thatch'd-house ; dur-
ing which walk, I dare promise you, my patience and
diligent attention shall not be wanting. And if you
shall make that to appear which you have ufidertaken,
first, that it is an art, and an art worth the learning, I
shall beg that I may attend you a day or two a-fishing,
and that I may become your scholar, and be instructed
in the art itself which you so much magnify.

Pise, O, Sir, doubt not but that angling is an art ; is

109 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. FART I.

it not ail art to deceive a Trout with an artificial Fly ?
n Trout! that is more sharp-sighted than any Hawk
you have named, and more watchful and timorous
than your high-mettled Merlin is bold * ? and yet, I
doubt not to catch a brace or two to-morrow, for a
friend's breakfast : doubt not, therefore. Sir, but that
angling is an art, and an art worth your learning. The
question is rather, whether you be capable of learning
it ? for angling is somewhat like poetry, men are to be
born so : IjT»r"- with inclinations to it, though both
may be W ' lened by discourse and practice; but he
that hopes to be a good angler, must not only bring an
inquiring, searching, observing wit, but he nmst bring
a large measure of hope and patience, and a love and
propensity to the art itself t ; but having once got and
practised it, then doubt not but angling will prove to
be so pleasant, that it will prove to be, like virtue, a
reward to itself

* This is a mistake: it wa,s Auce/>s and not Senator ^ that named the
Hawks : and Aiueps had before taken his leave of these his companions.

f Markham, in his Country Contentments^ has a whole chapter on the
subject of the Angler's Apparely and inivard qualities ; some of whiofc are,
♦* That he be a general scholar, and seen in all the liberal sciences ; as a
*' grammarian^ to know how to write, or discourse, of his art in true
" and fitting terms. He should," says he, '• have siveetness of speech^ to
•• entice others to delight in an exercise so much laudable. He should
" have strength of argument., to defend and maintain his profession against
^* envy and slander." Thou seest, reader, how easily the author has
dispatched Grammary JRhetorie, and Logic, three of the liberal sciences;
and his reasons are not a whit less convincing, with respect to the other
four.

A man would think, now, that with proper baits, good tackle in his
pannier, and so much science in his head, our angler would stand a pretty
good chance to catch fish ; but, alas! those are little to the purpose, without
the christian virtues of faith, hope and charity ; and unless two at least of
the cardinal virtues can be persuaded to go a-fishing, the angler may as well
stay at home : for hear what Mr. Markham says as to fortitude ; " Then
*' must he be strong and valiant; neither to be amazed with storms, nor
*' affrighted with thunder: and if he is not temperate^ but has a gnawing
" stomach, that will not endure much fasting, but must observe hours ;
*' ii troubleth the mind and body, and loseth that delight which maketh
" the pastime only pleasing."

There is no doubt but Walton had this chapter of Markham in his
eye ; and as there is a humorous solemnity in thus attempting to dig-
nify an art, which surely borrows as little of its perfection from learning
as any that is practised, it was thought it might divert the reader to
quote it.

CHAP. I. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 105

Ven. Sir, I am now become so full of expectation,
that I long much to have you proceed, and in the order
that you propose.

Pise. Then first, for the antiquity of Angling, of
which I shall not say much, but only this ; some say
it is as ancient as Deucalion's flood : others, that Belusy
who was the first inventor of godly and virtuous recre-
ations, was the first inventor of Angling : and some
others say, for former times have had their disquisitions
about the antiquity of it, that Seth, one of the sons of
Adam, taught it to his sons, and that by them it was
derived to posterity : others say, that he left it engraven
on those pillars which he erected, and trusted to pre-
serve the knowledge of the mathematicks, musick, and
the rest of that precious knowledge, and those useful
arts, which, by God's appointment or allowance, and
his noble industry, were thereby preserved from perish-
ing in Noah^s flood *.

These, Sir, have been the opinions of several men,
that have possibly endeavoured to make angling more
ancient than is needful, or may well be warranted ; but
for my part, I shall content myself in telling you, that
angling is much more ancient than the incarnation of
our Saviour ; for in the Prophet Amos, mention is made
offish-hooks ; and in the book of Job y which was long
before the days of Amos, for that book is said to have
been written by Moses, mention is made also of fish-
hooks, which must imply anglers in those times.

But, my worthy friend, as I would rather prove my-
self a gentleman, by being learned and humble, valiant
and inoflensive, virtuous and communicable, — than by
any fond ostentation of riches, — or, wanting those virtues
myself, boast that these were in my ancestors ; (and yet

* Those that say this, are very safe in their assertion, for there is no
remaining evidence to contradict it. It may however be observed, that
the same has been said in favour of many other arts, and if I mistake
not, of the Hermetic Science and Free Masonry; concerning the former
whereof, Ashmole has the confidence to affirm, that by means of it, Adam
and the fathers before the Flood, as also Abraham, Moses, and Solomon,
wrought many wonders. See the Prtlegomena to his Theatrum Cbemitum
£ritan/iieum, in which there is more such nonsense and absurdity.

«2

104r T»E COMPLETE ANGLER. PARTI.

I grant, that ^vhere a noble and ancient descent and
Huch merit meet in any man, it is a double dignilication
of that person ;) so if this antiquity of angling, which
for my part I have not forced, shall, like an ancient
family, be either an honour or an ornament to this vir-
tuous art which 1 profess to love and practise, I shall
be the gladder that I made an accidental mention of
the antiquity of it; of which I shall say no more,
but proceed to that just commendation which I think
it deserves.

And for that I shall tell you, that in ancient times a
debate hath risen, and it remains yet unresolved, whe-
ther the happiness of man in this world doth consist
more in contemplation or action * ?

Concerning which some have endeavoured to main«
lain their opinion of the first, by saying, that the
iiearer we mortals come to God by way of imitation,
the more happy we are. And they say, that God en-
joys himself only, by a contemplation of his own infi-
niteness, eternity, power, and goodness, and the like.
And upon this ground, many cloisteral men of great
Beaming and devotion, prefer contemplation before
action. And many of the fathers seem to approve this
opinion, as may appear in their commentaries upon the
words of our Saviour to Martha, Lul^e 10. 41, 42.

And on the contrary, there want not men of equal
authority and credit, that prefer action to be the more
excellent ; as namely experiments in physick, and the
application of it, both for the ease and prolongation of
man's life, — by which each man is enabled to act and
do good to others, either to serve his country, or do
good to particular persons ; and they say also, that
action is doctrinal, and teaches both art and virtue,
and is a maintainer of human society ; and for these,
and other like reasons, to be preferred before can*
templation.

* This is a question which many persons of wit, especially among the
Italian writers, have discussed ; a disquisition, in the judgment of Lord
Clarendon, about as profitable, as whether along journey is best under-
taken on a blaii or « bay horse. Ste Lord Clarendoa's TrafU, pag. 167.

«HAP. I. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 105

Concerning which two opinions I shall forbear to
add a third, by declaring my own ; and rest myself
contented in telling you, my very worthy friend, that
both these meet together, and do most properly belong
to the most honest, ingenuous, quiet, and harmless art
of angling.

And first, I shall tell you what some have observed,
and 1 have found it to be a real truth, that the very
sitting by the river's side, is not only the quietest and
fittest place for contemplation, but will invite an angler
to it : and this seems to be maintained by the learned
Peter du Moulin*, who in his discourse of the fulfilling
of prophecies, observes, that when God intended to
reveal any future events or high notions to his prophets,
he then carried them either to the desarts, or the sea-
shore, that having so separated them, from amidst the
press of people and business, and the cares of the
world, he might settle their mind in a quiet repose,
and there make them fit for revelation.

And this seems also to be intimated by the cliildren
of Israel, Ps, 137. who having in a sad condition ba-
nished all mirth and musick from their pensive hearts,
and having hung up their then mute harps upon the
willow-trees growing by the rivers of Babylon, sat
down upon those banks, bemoaning the ruins of Sion,
and contemplating their own sad condition.

And an ingenuous Spaniard + says, that ^' rivers
** and the inhabitants of the watery element were made
*^ for wise men to contemplate, and fools to pass by
** without consideration." And though I will not
rank myself in the number of the first, yet give me
leave to free myself from the last, by offering to you
a short contemplation, first of rivers, and then of fish ;
concerning which I doubt not but to give you many
observations that will appear very considerable : I am

* Dr. Peter du Moulin^ Prebendary of Canterbury, and author of
several pieces in the Romish controversy.

f It has been said that the person here meant was Jobn Faldessoj men-
tioned in the Life of Walton preceding, and that the passage in the text
occurs in his Considerations ; but Upon a careful perusal of that book for
the purpose, no such sentiment has been found.

g3

106 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I,

sure they have appeared so to me, and made many an
hour pass away more pleasantly, as 1 have sate quietly
on a flowery bank by a calm river, and contemplated
"what I shall now relate to you.

And first concerning rivers ; there be so many won-
ders reported and written of them, and of the several
creatures that be bred and live in them, and those by
authors of so s^ood credit, that we need not to deny them
an historical faith.

As namely of a river in Epirus, that puts out any
lighted torch, and kindles any torch that was not light-
ed. Some waters being drunk, cause madness, some
drunkenness, and some laughter to death . The river Be-
larus in a few hours turns a rod or wand to stone : and
our Gamden mentions the like in England, and the like
in Loch mere in Ireland. There is also a river in Arabia,
of which all the sheep that drink thereof have their
wool turned into a vermilion colour. And one of no less
credit than Aristotle, tells us of a merry river, the river
Elusina, that dances at the noise of musick, for with
musick it bubbles, dances, and grows sandy, and so
continues till the musick ceases, but then it presently re-
turns to its wonted calmness and clearness. And Cam-
den tells us of a well near to Kirby in Westmoreland,
that ebbs and flows several times every day : and he tells
us of a river in Surrey, it is called Mole, that after it
Las run several miles, being opposed by hills, finds or
makes itself a way under ground, and breaks out again
so far off", that the inhabitants thereabout boast, as the
Spaniards do of their river Anus, that they feed divers
flocks of sheep upon a bridge. And lastly, for I would
not tire your patience, one of no less authority than Jo-
sephus, that learned Jew, tells us of a river in Judea
that runs swiftly all the six days of the week, and stands
still and rests all their sabbath.

But I will lay aside my discourse of rivers, and tell
you some things of the monsters, or fish, call them
what you will, that they breed and feed in them. Pliny
the philosopher says, in the third chapter of his ninth
book, that in the Indian sea, the fish called Balcena or
.Whirl-pQol, is so long and broad, as to take up more

CHAP. I, THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 107

in lengtli and breadth than two acres of ground; and,
of other fish of two hundred cubits long ; and that in
the river Ganges, there be Eels of thirty feet long. He
says there, th:it these monsters appear in that sea only
when the tempestuous winds oppose the torrents of
waters falling from the rocks into it, and so turning
what lay at the bottom to be seen on the water's top.
And he says, that the people of Cadara, an island near
this place, make the timber for their houses of those
fish-bones. He there tells us, that there are sometimes
a thousand of these great Eels found wrapt, or inter-
woven together. He tells us there, that it appears that
dolphins love musick, and will come, when called for,
by some men or boys, that know and use to feed them,
and that they can swim as swift as an arrow can be shot
out of a bow ; and much of this is spoken concerning
the dolphin, and other fish : as may be found also in
the learned Dr. Casaubon's * Discourse of Credulity/
and IncreduUtT/y printed by him about the year 1670.

I know, we islanders are averse to the belief of these
wonders ; but, there be so many strange creatures to be
now seen, many collected by John Tradescant +, and

* Mency son o£ Isaac Casaubon, bom at Geneva in 1599, hut educated
at Oxford, was, for his great learning, preferred to a Prebend in the
Cathedral of Canterbury, and the Rectory of Ickham near that city. Oliver
Cromwell would have engaged him by a pension of 300/. a year, to write
the history of his time, but Casaubon refused it. Of many books extant
of his writing, that mentioned in the text is one. He died in 1671,
leaving behind him the character of a religious man^ loyal to his Prince^
exemplary in his life and conversation, and very charitable to the poor. —
Athen. Oxon. Vol. II. 485, edit. 1721.

f There were, it seems, three of the Tradescants^ grand-father, f-ither,
and son : the son is the person here meant : the two former were Garden-
ers to Queen Elizabeth, and the latter to King Charles the First. They
were all great botanists, and collectors of natural and other curiosities,
and dwelt at South Lambeth in Surrey ; and dying there, were buried in
Lambeth Church-yard. Mr. Ashmole contracted an acquaintance with
the last of them, and together with his wife, boarded at his house for a
summer, during which Ashmole agreed for the purchase of Tradescant's
collection, and the same was conveyed to him by a deed of gift from
Tradescant and his wife. Tradescant soon after died, and Ashmole was
obliged to file a bill In Chancery for the delivery of the curiosities, and
succeeded in his suit. Mrs. Tradescant, sliortly after the pronouncing
the decree, was found drowned in her pond. This collection, with wliat
additions he afterwards made to it, Mr. Ashmole gave to the University

G 4

108 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PARTI.

others added by ray friend Elias Ash mole, Esq. who
now keeps them carefully and methodically at his house
near to Lambeth, near London * ; as may get some be-

of Oxford, and so became the Founder of the Ashmolean Museum. A
monument for all the thi*ee Tradescants, very curiously ornamented with
sculptures, is to be seen in Lambeth Church-yard; and a representation
thereof, in four plates, and also some particulars of the family, are given
in the Philosophical Transactions^ Volume LXIIT. Part \. p. 79, et seq.
The monument, by the contribution of some friends to their memory,
was, in the year 1773, repaired; and the following Lines ^ formerly in-
tended for an epitaph, inserted thereon ;

Know, stranger ! ere thou pass, beneath this stone
Lie John Tradescant, grandsire, father, son.
The last dy'd in bis spring : the other two
Liv'd till they had travell'd art and nature thro' ;
As by their choice collections, may appear,
Of what is rare in land, in seas, in air ;
Whilst they (as Homer's Iliad, in a nut)
A world of wonders in one closet shut.
These famous Antiquarians — that had been.
Both, Gardeners to the rose, and lilly, Queen-
Transplanted now themselves, sleep here. And when
Angels shall with their trumpets waken men,
And fire shall purge the world ; these hence shall rise.
And change their gardens for a Paradise.

The Tradescants were the first collectors of natural curiosities In this
kingdom ; Ashmole, and Sir Hans Sloane, were the next : the generous
spirit of these persons seems to have been transfused into, and at present
(1784) to reside in, z, private Gentleman of unbounded curiosity and
liberality. Sir Ashton Lever ; whose collections for beauty, variety, and
copiousness, exceed all description, and surpass every thing of the kind in
the known world. Haivkins. After Sir Ashton Lever's death, the collection
was disposed of by public Lottery, and came into the hands of Mr. Par-
kinson, who, two years ago, (1806,) sold the whole, in separate lots,
by public auction. Editor.

* Ashmole was, at first, a Solicitor in Chancery : but marrying a lady
with a large fortune, and being well skilled in history and antiquities, he
was promoted to the office of Windsor Herald, and wrote the History of
the Order of the Garter, published in 1672, in folio. But addicting him-
self to the then fashionable studies of chemistry and judicial astrology ;
and associating himself with that silly, crack-brained enthusiast, John
Aubrey, Esq. of Surrey, and that egregious impostor, Lilly the Astro-
loger, he became a dupe to the knavery of the one, and the follies of
both ; and lost in a great measure the reputation he had acquired by this,
and other of his writings. Of his weakness and superstition, he has left
on record this memorable instance : " 11th April, 1681, I took, early in
" the morning, a good dose of elixir, and hung three spiders about my
** neck ; and they drove my ague away." Deo gratias. See Memoirs of
the Life of that Antiquarian, Elias Ashmole, Esq. drawn up by himself by
ivay of diary, published by Charles Burman, Esq. 12mo. 1717.

€HAP. I. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. <109

lief of some of the other wonders I mentioned, I wiH
tell you some of the wonders that you may now see,—*
and not till then believe, unless you think fit.

You may there see the Hog-fish, the Dog-fish, the
Dolphin, the Coney-fish, the Parrot-fish, the Shark,
the Poison-fish, Sword-fish, and not only other incredi-
hle fish; but you may there see the Salamander, several
sorts of Barnacles, of Solan Geese, the Bird of Para-
dise; such sorts of Snakes, and such Bird's-nests, and
of so various forms, and so wonderfully made, as may
beget wonder and amusement in any beholder ; — and so
many hundred of other rarities in that collection, as
will make the other wonders I spake of, the less incre-
dible ; for, you may note, that the waters are Nature's
store-house, in which she locks up her wonders.

But, Sir, lest this discourse may seem tedious, I shall
give it a sweet conclusion out of that fioly poet, Mr.
George Herbert, his divine Contemplation on God's
Providence:

Lord ! who hath praise enough, nay^ -who hath any ?
None can express thy works, but he that knows tbemi
And none can know thy works, they are so many,
And so complete, but only he that owes * them.

We, all, acknowledge both thy power and love

To be exact, transcendant, and divine —

Who dost so strangely and so sweetly move,

Whilst all things have their end — yet none, but thine.

Wherefore, most sacred Spirit ! I here present,
For me and all my fellows, praise to thee ;
And just it is, that 1 should pay the rent,
Because the benefit accrues to me.

And as concerning fish : In that psalm, Psal. 104.
wherein for height of poetry and wonders, the prophet
David seems even to exceed himself; how doth he there
express himself in choice metaphors — even to the amaze-
ment of a contemplative reader — concerning the sea, the

* Used as an equivalent to ownst a sense now obsolete.

110 fttE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

rivers, and the fish therein contained ! And the great
naturalist Pliny says, '' That nature's great and \von-
derful power is more demonstrated in the sea than on tlie
land." And this may appear, by the numerous and
various creatures inhabiting, both in and about, that
element ; as to the readers of Gessncr *, Rondeletius t ,
Pliny, Ausonius+5 Aristotle, and others, may be de-
. monstrated. But I will sweeten this dis-
Sil fifth day.'^ course also out of a contemplation in divine
Du Bartas§, who says :

God quickened — in the sea, and in the rivers— <

So many fishes of so many features,

That in the waters we may see all creatures,

Even all that on the earth are to he found,

As if the world were in deep waters drown'd.

For seas— as well aS" skies — have Sun, Moon, Stars ;

As well as air — Swallows, Rooks, and Stares ** ;

As well as earth — Vines, Roses, Nettles, Melons,

Mushrooms, Finks, Gilliflowers, and many millions

* Conrade Gessner^ an eminent physician and naturalist, v^'as born at Zu-
rich in 1516. His skill in botany and natural history, was such as procured
him the appellation of the Pliny of Germany .- and Beza, who knew him,
scruples not to assert, that he concentered in himself the learning of Pliny
end Varrom Nor was he more distinguished for his learning, than esteemed
and beloved for that probity and sweetness of manners, which rendered him
conspicuous through the course of his life : notwithstanding which, he la-
boured under the pressure of poverty, to a degree that compelled him to
write for sustenance, and that in such haste, that his works, which are
rery numerous, are not exempt from marks of it. Besides a Bibliotheca
five Catalogus Scriptorum Lat. Gr^ Iff Hebr. tarn extantium quam non extan-
tium^ Tig. 1545 — 48. he wrote Historia Animalium^ and De Serpentum
Naiura; to both which works Walton frequently refers. This excellent
person died in 1565.

f Guillaume Rondelet, an eminent physician, born at Montpelier in Lan-
guedoc, 1507. He wrote several books ; and a treatise De Piscibus mart-
nisy where all that Walton has taken from him is to be found. He died —
very poor — of a surfeit, occasioned by eating of figs to excess, in 1566.

I Decius Ausonius, a native of Bourdeaux ; was a Latin Poet, Consul of
Rome, and Preceptor to the emperer Gratian. He died about 390.
/ § Guillaume de Salustc Sieur du Bartas, was a poet of great reputation in
Walton's time. He wrote, in French, a poem called Di'vine Weeks and
Works ; whence the passage in the text, and many others cited in this
work, are extracted. This, with his other delightful works, was trani-
latedinto English by Joshua Sylvester.

** Ox Starlings, Mi»sheu.

\

CHAP. I.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

Ill

Of other plants, more rare, more strange than these ;
As very fishes, living in the seas ;
As also Rams, Calves, Horses, Hares, and Hogs,
Wolves, Urchins, Lions, Elephants, and Dogs ;
Yea men and maids ; and, which I most admire.
The mitred Bishop and the cowled friar *,
Of which examples, but a few years since.
Were shewn the Norway and Polonian prince.

* This story of the Bishop fish Is told by Rondeletius, and voucked by
Bellonius. Without taking much pains in the translation, it is as follows :
« In the year 1531, a fish was taken in Polonia, that represented a bishop.
•* He was brought to the king ; but seeming to desire to return to his own
*' element, the king commanded him to be carried back to the sea, into
** which he immediately threw himself." Rondeletiuj had before related
the story of a Mpnk-fish, which is what Du Bartas means by the "cowled
Friar. " The reader may see the portraits of these wonderful personages
in Rondeletius ; or, in the Fosthtimous Works of the reverend and learned
Mr. Johrf'Gregory, in 4to. Lond. 1683, page 121, 12^ where they are
thus exhibited :

Stow, in his/4#«a/^,p. 157, from the Chronicle of Radfilphus Coggeshale,
gives the following relation of a sea-monster, taken on the coast of Suffolk,
Temp. Hen. II.

« Neare unto Orford in Suffolk, certalne fishers of the sea tooke in
«* their nets a fish, having the shape of a man in all points ; which fish was
«' kept by Bartlemew de GlaunvUle, custos of the castle of Orford, in the
«• same castle, by the space of six moneths and more, for a wonder. He
«* spake not a word. All manner of meates he did eate, but most greedily

IIH THE COMPLETE ANGLER. FART I.

These seem to be wonders ; but have liad so many
confirmations from men of learning and credit, that you
need not doubt them. Nor are the number^ nor the
various shapes^ of fishes more strange, or more fit for
contemplation, than their different natures, mclina^
iions, and actions; concerning which, I shall beg
your patient ear a little longer.

The Cuttle-fish will cast a long gut out of her throat,
which, like as an Angler doth his line, she sendeth
forth, and pulleth in again at her pleasure, according
iMont. Essays *^^ ^^^^ ^^^^ some little fish come near to
and others affirm her; and the Cuttle-fish i, being then
this. hid in the gravel, lets the smaller fish

nibble and bife the end of it; at which time she, by
little and little, draws the smaller fish so near to her,
that she may leap upon her, and then catches and de-
vours her : and for this reason, some have called this
fish the Sea-angler.

And there is a fish called a Hermit, that, at a certain
age gets into a dead fish's shell ; and, like a hermit,
dwells there alone, studying the wind and weather ;
and so turns her shell, that she makes it defend her
from the injuries that they would bring upon her.

There is also a fish, called hyJEMau * in his 9th book
Of Living Creatures, ch. 16. the Adonis, or Darling
of the Sea; so called, because it is a loving and inno-
cent fish, a fish that hurts nothing that hath life, and
is at peace with all the immerous inhabitants of that
vast >vatry element; and truly I think most Anglers
are, so, disposed to most of mankind .

** raw fish, after he had crushed out the moisture. Oftentimes, he was
** brought to the church, where he she-wed no tokens ef adoration" At
•♦ length," says this author, " when he was not well looked to, he stole
*« away to the sea, and never after appeared." The wisdom of these
fishermen in taking the monster to church, calls to remembrance many
instances of similar sagacity recorded of the ivise men of Gotham. Finding
tiim so indevout, we may suppose them to have been ready to exclaim
with Caliban, in the Temfest,

" By this good light, a very shallow monster !"
* Claudius Mliamts was born at Prasneste in Italy, in the reign of th»
Emperor Adrian, He wrote De Animalium natura^ and On Martial Dif
vplint.

CHAP. I. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 113

And there are, also, lustful and chaste fishes ; of which
I shall give you examples.

And first, what Du Bartas says of a fish called thd
Sargus : which, because none can express it better than
he does, I shall give you in his own words ; supposing it
shall not have the less credit for being verse ; for he hath
gathered this, and other observations, out of Authors
that have been great and industrious searchers into the
secrets of nature.

The adult'rous Sargus doth not only change

Wives every day, in the deep streams ; but, strange !

As if the honey of sea-love delight

Could not suffice his ranging appetite,

Goes courting she-goats on the grassy shore.

Horning their husbands that had horns before.

And the same Author writes concerning the Cati"
tJiarus, that which you shall also hear in his own
words :

But, contrary, the constant Cantbarus
Is ever constant to his faithfiil spouse ;
In nuptial duties, spending his chaste life ;
Never loves any but his own dear wife.

Sir, but a little longer, and I have done.

Ven, Sir, take what liberty you think fit, for your
discourse seems to be musick, and charms me to an at-
tention.

Pise. Why then, Sir, I will take a liberty to tell, or
rather to remember, you what is said of Turtle-doves ;
first, that they silently plight their troth, and marry ;
and that then the survivor scorns, as the Thra<;ian wo-
men are said to do, to outlive his or her mate ; (and this
is taken for a truth ;) and if the survivor shall ever
couple with another, — then, not only the living but the
dead, be it either the he or the she, is denied the name
and honour of a true Turtle-dove *.

* Of Sivansj It is also said, that, if either— of a pair— die, or be otherr
rrhc separated from its mate, the other does not long survive ; and that it in

114 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I,

And to parallel this land -rarity — and to teach man-
kind moral faithfulness ; and to condemn those that
talk of religion, and yet come short of the moral faith
of fish and fowl, men that violate the law affirmed by
St. Paul, Rom. 2. 14, 15, to be writ in their hearts, and
\Thich he says, shall at the last day condemn and leave
them without excuse — I pray hearken to what
fifth daT' ^^ Bartas sings, for the hearing of such con-
jugal faithfulness will be musick to all chaste
ears, and therefore I pray hearken to what Du Bartas
sings of the Mullet.

But — for chaste love — the Mullet hath no peer ;
For, if the fisher hath surprised her pheer*,
As mad with wo, to shore she followeth ;
Prest + to consort him, both in life and death.

On the contrary, what shall I say of the House-cock,
which treads any hen ; and, then, contrary to the Swan,
the Partridge, and Pigeon, takes no care to hatch, to
feed or cherish his own brood, but is senseless, though
they perish. And it is considerable, that the Hen, which,
because she also takes any Cock, expects it not ; who
is sure the chickens be her own, hath by a moral im-
pression her care and affection to her own brood more
than doubled, even to such a height, that our Saviour,
in expressing his love to Jerusalem, Matt. 23. 37,

chiefly for this reason, that the stealing of Swans is by our law made penal*
8o as that, " He who stealeth a Swan, in an open and common river, law-
*« fully marked; the same Swan shall be hung in a house by the
*' beak ; and he who stole it shall, in recompence thereof, give to the
" owner so much wheat as may cover all the Swan, by putting and turn-
** ing the wheat upon the head of the Swan, until the head of the Swan be
** covered with wheat. " Coke's Reports^ Part VII. The case of Swans.

* Or Fellow; so Bed-pheer, Bed-fellow.

t Fresty from the French Fret^ Lat. Pdr<rf»j, ready, prepared. So Psalm
CIV, old version:

He maketh his spirites as heralds to go ;
And lightnings, to serve, we see also fnst.

Vide Gs.0SSAftr to Robert of Ctouttsfer and to Peter Langtoft, Ed;t.
^earne.

CHAP. I. THE COMPLETE ANGLEU, 115

quotes her, for an example of tender affection ; as his
Father had done Job, for a pattern of patience.

And to parallel this Cock, there be divers fishes that
cast their spawn on flags or stones ; and tlien leave it
uncovered, and exposed to become a prey and be de-
voured by vermin or other fishes. But other fishes, as
namely the Barbel, take such care for the preservation
of their seed, that (unlike to the Cock or the Cuckoo)
they mutually labour, botli the spawner and the melter,
— to cover their spawn with sand, — or, watch it, — or,
hide it in some secret place, unfrequented by vermin or
by any fish but themselves.

Sir, these examples may, to you and others, seem
strange ; but they are tcstified^ — some by Aristotle, some
by Pliny, some by Gessner,and by manyotliers of credit;
and are believed and known by divers, both of wisdom
and experience — to be a truth ; and indeed are, as I said
at the beginning, fit for the contemplation of a most
serious and a most pious man. And, doubtless, this
made the prophet David say: ^'They that occupy
'' themselves in deep waters, see the wonderful works
^^ of Godt" indeed such wonders, and pleasures too,
as the land affords not.

And that the^ he jit for the contemplation ofthemoU
prudent, and pious, and peaceable men, seems to be
testified by the practice of so many devout and contem-
plative men ; as the Patriarchs and Prophets of old ;
and of tlie Apostles of our Saviour in our latter times, — •
of which Twelve, we are sure, he c//o<?e Four that were
^\v[iYi\e fishermen, — whom he inspired, and sent to pub-
lish his blessed will to the Gentiles ; and inspired them
also with a power to speak all languages, and by their
powerful eloquence to beget faith in the unbelieving
Jews ; and, themselves to suffer for that Saviour whom
their forefathers and they had crucified ; and, in their
sufferings, to preach freedom from the incumbrances of
the law, and a new way to everlasting life : this was the
employment of these happy fishermen. Concerning
which choice, some have made these observations :

First, that he never reproved these, for their employ-
ment or calling, as he did the Scribes and the Money-

116 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

cliarjgers. And, secondly, He ff>und that tlie hearts of
such men^ by nature, were fiited for contemplation and
quietness ; men of mild^ and sweety and peaceable spi'
rits, as indeed most Anglers are: yet these men our
blessed Saviour, who is observed to love to plant fi^race
in good natures, though indeed nothing be too hard for
him ; yet these men he chose to call from their irreprove-
able employment of fishing, and gave them grace to be
his disciples, and to follow him, and do wonders ; I
say four of twelve.

And it is observable, — ^that it was our Saviour's will
that these, our four fishermen, should have a priority of
nomination in the catalogue of his twelve Apostles ;
(Matt. 10.) as namely, first, St. Peter, St. Andrew, St.
James, and St. John ; and, then, the rest in their order.

And it is yet more observable, — that when our blessed
Saviour went up into the mount, when he left the rest
of his disciples, and chose only three to bear him com-
pany at his transfiguration, that those three were all
fishermen. And it is to be believed, — that all the other
Apostles, after they betook themselves to follow Christ,
betook themselves to be fishermen too ; for it is certain,
that the greater number of them were found together,
•fishing, by Jesus after his resurrection, as it is recorded
in the 21st chapter of St. John's gospel.

And, since I have your promise to hear me with pa-
tience, I will take a liberty to look back upon an ob-
servation that hath been made by an ingenious and
learned raan ; who observ^es, that God hath been pleased
to allow tliosc, whom he himself hath appointed to
write his holy will in holy writ, yet to express his
will in such metaphors as their former aflfections or
practice had inclined them to. And he brings Solo-
mon for an example, who, before his conversion, was
remarkably carnally amorous ; and after, by God's
appointment, wrote that Spiritual dialogue, or holy
amorous love-song the Canticles, betwixt God and his
church : Jn which lie says, ' his beloved had eyes
like the fish -pools of Heshbon.'

And if this hold in reason, as I see none to the
contrary; then it may be probably concluded, that

CHAP. I, THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 117

Moses who (I told you before) writ the book of Joh^
and the prophet Amos who was a shepherd, were both
Anglers : for you shall, in all the Old Testament^ find
fish-hooks, 1 think, but twice mentioned, namely, by
meek Mosos the friend of God, and by the humble
prophet Amos *.

Concernint^ which last, namely, the prophet Amos, I
shall make but this observation, — that he that shall
read the humble, lowly, plain style of that prophet ;
and compare it with the high, glorious, eloquent style
of the prophet Isaiah ; though they be, both, equally
true ; may easily believe Amos to be, not only a
shepherd, but a good-natured plain fisherman,

Wliich I do tlie rather believe ; by comparing
the affectionate, loving, lowly, humble Epistles of
St. Peter, St. James, and St. John, whom we know
were all fishers, with the glorious language and high
metaphors of St. Paul, who we may believe was not.

And for the lawfulness of fishing : It may very well
be maintained by our Saviour's bidding St. Peter cast
his hook into the water, and catch a fish, for money to
pay tribute to Caesar.

And let me tell you, that Angling is of high esteem,
and of much use in other nations. He that reads the
Voyages of Ferdinand Mendez Pinto t, shall find that
there he declares to have found a king and several
priests a-fishing.

* Walton was a good Scripturlst, and therefore can hardly be supposed
to have been ignorant of the passage in Isaiah^ chap. 19.8. " The fishers
*' shall mourn, and all they that cast angle upon the .brooks shall lametit,
" and they that spread nets upon the waters shall languish." Which word*
as they do but imply the use oi jisb-hooks^ he might think not directly to
his purpose ; but in the translation of the above prophet by the |leamed
Bishop Loivthy who himself assures me that the word book is truly ren-
dered, the passage stands thus :

*' And the fishers shall mourn and lament :

" All those that cast the hook in the river ;

*' And those that spread nets on the face of the waters shall languish.**

The following passage Walton seems likewise to have forgotten when
he wrote the above, unless the reason before assigned induced him to reject
it : " They take up all of them with the anple^ they catch them in their
« net, and gather them in their drag, therefore they rejoice and are glad,"
Habakkuky chap. 1 . v. 15.

t A traveller, whose veracity is much questioHed.

118 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I*

And he that reads Plutarch, shall find^ that Anglin£^
•was not contemptible in the days of Mark Antony and
Cleopatra, and tliat they in the midst of their wonder-
ful glory used angling as a principal recreation*. And
let me tell you, that in the Scripture^ Angling is always
taken in the best sense; and that though hunting may-
be sometimes so taken, yet it is but seldom to be so under-
stood. And let me add this more : he that views
the ancient Ecclesiastical Canons^ shall find hunting
to be forbidden to Churchmen, as being a turbulent,
toilsome, perplexing recreation ; and shall find Angling
allowed to clergymen, as being a harmless recreation,
a recreation that invites them to contemplation and
quietness.

I might liere enlarge myself, by telling you what com-
mendations our learned Perkins bestows on Angling :

♦ I must here so far differ from my author as to say» that if Angling
was not contemptible in the days of Mark Antony and Cleopatra, that
illustrious prostitute endeavoured to make it so. The fact related by
Plutarch is the following:

" It would be very tedious and trifling to recount all his follies : but his
" [palpable finesse in] fishing must not be forgot. He went out one day to
«' angle with Cleopatra, and being so unfortunate as to catch nothing in
«♦ the presence of his mistress, he was very much vexed, and gave secret
** orders to the fishermen to dive under water, and put fishes that had
" been fresh taken upon his hook. After he had drawn up two or three,
•* Cleopatra perceived the trick; she pretended, however, to be sur-
** prised at his good fortune and dexterity; told it to all her friends, and
«* invited them to come and see him fish the next day. Accordingly, a
« very large company went out in the fishing vessels, and as soon as An-
*• tony had let down his line, she commanded one of her servants to be
** before-hand with Antony's, and .diving into the water, to fix upon
** his hook a salted fish, one of those which were brought from the Euxine
« Sear

The story here told affords matter of serious reflection. Behold,
here, two persons of the highest rank, who had exhausted all the sources
of delight ; their appetites palled, and every gratification rendered
tasteless; stooping to partake of the recreations of the meaner sort, —
and, of tyrants, and persecutors of their fellow-creatures, to become the
deceivers of silly fish, and of each other. Doubtless we may suppose
that long before the tragical end, which they severally made, of a profli-
gate and wicked life, they were grown tired and sick of the world ; and
had frequent occasion to exclaim — and that with greater reason, than
their Predecessor in worldly glory — that all the pomp and splendour of
dominion, all the pomp and authority resulting from regal grandeur, all
ambitious enterprises ; all merely human projects, pursuits, and plea-
sures; without a tranquil and composed mind, such as Gckd vouchsafe*
only to the meek and humble; are vanity and vexation of Spirit.

CHAP. T. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 119

and liow dear a lover, and great a practiser of it our
learned Dr. Whitake?- * was ; as indeed many others of
great learning have been. But I will content myself
with two memorable men, tliat lived near to our own
time, whom I also take to have been ornaments to the art
of Angling.

The first is Dr. Nowel, sometime dean of the cathedral
cliurch of St. Paul's, in London, where his monu-
ment stands yet undefaccd t ; a man that, in the 1550.
reform adon of Queen Elizabeth, not that of
Henry VIII. was so noted — for his meek spirit, deep
learning, prudence, and piety — that the then Parlia-
ment and Convocation, both, chose enjoined and
trusted him to be the man to make a Catechism for
public use, such a one as should stand as a rule
for faith and manners to their posterity. And the
good old man, though he was very learned, yet—

* fVilltam Perklns'-v/zt a learned divine, and a pious and painful Preacher.
Dr. William Whitaker^ — an able writer in the Romish controversy, and
Regius Professor of Divinity in the University of Cambridge. They both
flourished at the latter end of the sixteenth century. I remark the extreme
caution of our author in this passage ,- for he says not, of Perkins, as he does
of fVbitaiey, that he was a practiser of, but only that he bestows (in some
of his writings we must conclude) great commendations on angling.
Perkins had the misfortune to want the use of his right hand : as we find
intimated in this distich on him :

Dexter a quamtum'vti fuerat tibi mancay docendi
PoUebas mird dcxteritate tamen.

Though natur« hath thee, of thy right hand, bereft.
Right well thou write«t with thy hand that's left.

And therefore can hardly be supposed capable of even baiting his hook.

The fact respecting Whitaker is thus attested by Dr. Fuller, in his Holy
State, book iii. chap. 13. •' Fishing with an angle is to some rather a torture
*' than a pleasure, to stand an hour as mute as the fish they mean to take,—-
" yet herewithal Dr. Whitaker was much delighted."

To the examples of divines lovers of Angling, I here add that of Dr.
Leigh, the present (1784) Master of Baliol College, Oxford, who, though
turned of ninety, makes it the recreation of his vacant hours.

f Dr. Alexander Noivel, a learned divine, and a famous preacher in the
reign of King Edtu. VI.; upon whose death he, with many other Protest-
ants, fled to Germany, v/here he lived many years. In 1561 he was made
dean of St. Paul's; and in 1601 died. The monument mentioned in the
text was undoubtedly consumed, with the church, in the fire of I.ondon :
but the inscription thereon is preserved in Stow's Survey, edit. 1633, page
362. See Athen. Oxon. 31 3i An engraving of the monument itself is in
Dugdale's History of St. PauVf Cathedral.

H 2

120 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART* I.

knowing that God leads us not to heaven by many,
nor by hard, questions — like an honest Angler, made
that good, plain, un perplexed Catechism ^ •which is
printed with our good old Service-book*. I say this
good man was a dear lover, and constant practiser
of Angling, as any age can produce. And his custom
was to spend — besides his fixed hours of prayer;
those hours which, by command of the church were
enjoined the clergy, and voluntarily dedicated to
devotion by many primitive Christians ; I say, besides
those hours this good man was observed to spend—
a tenth part of his time in Angling ; and also, (for f
have conversed with those which have conversed with

* The question who was the compiler of our church Catechism^ must, I
fear, be. reckoned among the desiderata of our ecclesiastical history. It is
certain that Notvel drew up two catechisms, a greater and a less ; the
latter in the Title, as it stands in the English translation, expressly direct-
ed " to be learned of all youth, next after the little Catechisme appoynted
•' in the Booke of Cotnmon Prayer" But — besides that both were ori-
ginally written in Latin, and translated by other hands — the lesser,
though declared to be an abridgment of the greater, was at least twenty
times longer than that in the Common Prayer Book. And whereas
Walton says, that in the reformation of Elizabeth, the then Parliament
enjoined Nowel to make a Catechism, \^c. and that he made that which
is printed in our old Service-book : the catechism in question is to be found
in both the Liturgies of £div. VI. (the first whereof was set forth in 1549,)
and also in his Primer, printed in 1552; and Nowel is not enumerated
among the compilers of the Service-book. Further, both the Catechisms of
Nowel contain the doctrine of the sacraments; but that in the old Service-
book is silent on that head, and so continued, till, upon an objection of
the puritans in the conference at Hampton Court, an explanation of the
sacraments was drawn up by Dr. John Overall, and printed in the next
impression of the Book of Common Prayer. It may further be remarked,
that in the conference above-mentioned, the two Catechisms are contra-
distinguished, in an expression of Dr. Reynolds; who objected. That
the Catechism in the Common Prayer Book was too brief: and that
by Dean Nowel, too long for novices to learn by heart. Vide Fuller's
Cb. Hist, book x. page 14.

So much of Walton's assertion as respects the sanction given to a ca-
techism of Nowel's is true : but it was the larger catechism — drawn up at
the request of secretary Cecil, and other great persons — that was so ap-
proved, and that not by parliament, but by a convocation held anno 1562,
temp. Eliz. Vide Strype's Life of Archbishop Parker, 202.

From all which particulars it must be inferred, that Walton's assertion,
with respect to the Catechism in the Service-Sook, i. e. the Book of Common
Prayer, is a mistake; and although Strype, in his Memorials, Vol. II. page
422, concludes a catechism of Nowel's (mentioned in the said book, page
368, Iff in loc. cit.) to be the church Catechism joined, ordinarily^ "witb wr
Cmmon JPraytr^ he also must have misunderstood the fact.

CHAP. !♦ THE COMPLETE ANGLER. ISl

him,) to bestow a tenth part of his revenue, and usually
all his fish, amongst the poor that inhabited near to
those rivers in which it was caught; saying often,
*' That charity gave life to religion." And, at hia
return to his house, would praise God he had spent
that day free from worldly trouble ; both harmlessly,
and in a recreation that became a churchman. And
this good man was well content, if not desirous,
that posterity should know he was an Angler; as
may appear by his picture, now to be seen, and
carefully kept, in Brazen-nose College; to which he
was a lifc)cral benefactor. In which picture he is drawn,
— Leaning on a desk ; with his Bible before him ;
and on one hand of him, his lines, hooks, and other
tackling, lying in a round ; and, on his other
hand, are his Angle-rods of several sorts *, and
by them this is written, "That he died 13 Feb, 1601,
*' being aged ^b years, 44 of which he had been dean
*^ of St. Paul's church ; and that his age neither im-
'^ paired his hearing, nor dimmed his eyes, norweaken-
*^ ed his memory, nor made any of the faculties of his
" mind weak or useless." It is said that Angling and
temperance were great causes of these blessings. And
I wish the like to all that imitate him, and love tho
memory of so good a man.

My next and last example shall be that undervaluer
of money, the late provost of Eton College, Sir Henry
Wottont: a man with whom I have often fished and

* Fuller, In his IVorth'ies, {Lantasbtre, page 1 15,) has thought it worth re-
cording, of this pious and learned divine — and that in language so very
quaint as to be but just intelligible — That he was accustomed to fish in the
Thames ; and having one day left his bottle of ale in the grass, on the bank
of the river, he found it some days after, no bottle but a gun., such the scund
at the opening thereof. And hence, with what degree of sagacity let the
reader determine, he seems to derive the original of bottled ale in
England. Could he have shewn that the bottle was of leather, it is odds but
he had attributed to him the invention of that noble vehicle, and made

his soul in heaven to dwell.

Foe first devising the leathern bottel ;

As, in a fit of maudlin devotion, sings the author of a humorous and well
known old ballad,
f Of whom see an account in the Life of Walton,
H 3

122 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART 1.

conversed; a man whose foreign employments in the
service of this nation — and whose experience, learning,
wit, and cheerfulness — made his company to be esteemed
one of the delights of mankind. This man, whose very
approbation of Angling were sufficient to convince any
■ modest censurer of it ; this man was, also, a most dear
lover, and a frequent practiser of the art of Angling : of
which he would say, " It was an employment for his
^' idle time, which was not then idly spent ;" for
Angling was, after tedious study, " a rest to his mind,
^' a cheerer of his spirits, a diverter of sadness, a calmer
*^ of unquiet thoughts, a moderator of passions, a pro-
*' curer of contentedness ;" and ^' that it begat habits of
*' peace and patience in those that professed and prac-
*^ tised it. Indeed, my friend, you will find Angling
to be like the virtue of humility ; which has a calmness
of spirit, and a world of other blessings attending upon
it. Sir, this was the saying of that learned man.

And I do easily believe, that peace and patience, and

a calm content did cohabit in the cheerful heart of Sir

j Henry Wotton ; because I know that, when he was be-

I yond seventy years of age, he made this description of

I apart of the present pleasure that possessed him, as he

<l>at quietly, in a summer's evening, on a bank-a fishing.

It is a description of the spring; which, because it

glided as soft and sweetly from his pen, as that river

does, at this time, by which it was (hen made, I shall

repeat it unto you :

This day dame Nature seeni'd in love.

The lusty sap began to move ;

French juice did stir th' embracing Vines ;

And birds had drawn their Valentines.

The jealous Trout, that low did lie,

Rose at a well-dissembled flic ;

There, stood my friend, with patient skill,

Attending of his trembling quill.

Already were the eaves possest

With the swift Pilgrim's * daubed nest ;

The groves already did rejoice.

In Fhilomel's triumphing voice,

• The Swallow,

eHAP. U THE COMPLETE ANGLEtt. )^

The showers were short, the weather mild,
The morning fresh, the evening smil'd.

Joan takes her neat-rubb'd pail ; and, now.
She trips to milk the sand-red Cow, —
Where, for some sturdy foot-ball swain,
Joan strokes a syllabub or twain.
The fields and gardens were beset
With Tulips, Crocus, Violet :
And now, though late, the modest Rose,
Did more than half a blush disclose.

Thus all looks gay, and full of cheer.

To welcome the new livery'd jear.

These were the thoughts that then possessed the un-
disturbed ijiind of Sir Henry Wotton. Will you h^ar
the wish of another Angler, and the commendation of
his happy life, which he also sings in verse ; vi%, Jo .
Davors, Esq.

Let me lire harmlessly ; and near the brink
Of Trent or Avon have a dwelling-place, —

Where I may see my quill, or cork, down sink
With eager bite of Perch, or Bleak, or Dace;

And on the world and my Creator think :

Whilst some men strive ill-golteu goods t' embrace;

And others spend their time in base excess

Of wine, — or, worse, in war and wantonness :

Let them that list, these pastimes still pursue.
And on such pleasing fancies feed their fill : —

So I the Fields and Meadows green may view.
And daily by fresh Rivers walk at will.

Among the Daisies and the Violets blue.
Red Hyacinth, and yellow Daffodil,

Purple Narcissus like the morning rays,

Pale Gander-grass, and azure Culver-keyei : — '

I count it higher pleasure. To behold

The stately compass of the lofty sky ;
And in the midst thereof, like burning gold,

The flaming chariot of the world's great eye-;
The watry clouds, that in the air up-roll'd.

With sundry kinds of painted colours fly i
H 4

124: THE COMPLETE ANGLER, FART I,

And fair Aurora, lifting up her head,

Still blushing, rise from old Tithonus' bed ;

The hills and mountains raised from the plains ;

The plains extended, level with the ground ;
The grounds, divided into sundry veins ;

The veins, inclos'd with rivers running round ;
These rivers, making way through nature's cbainsi

With headlong course into the sea profound;
The raging sea, beneath the vallies low.
Where lakes and rills and rivulets do flow ;

The lofty woods, — the forests wide and long, —

Adorn'd with leaves, and branches fresh and green,-—

In whose cool bowers the birds with many a song,
Do welcome with their quire the summer's Queen ;

The meadows fair, where Flora's gifts, among.
Are intermixt, with verdant grass between ;

The silver-scaled fish that softly swim

Within the sweet brook's crystal, watry stream.

All these, and many more of His creation

That made the heavens, the Angler oft doth see $

Taking therein no little delectation,

To think how strange, how wonderful they be ;

Framing thereof an inward contemplation.
To set his heart from other fancies free ;

And whilst he looks on these with joyful eye^

His mipd is rapt above the starry sky.

Sir, I am glad ray memory has not lost these last
verses, because they are somewhat more pleasant and
more suitable to Mai/'dai/, ihdin my harsh discourse.
And I am glad your patience hath held out so long,
as to hear them and me ; for both together haye brought
us within the sight of the Thatch' d-house. And I
must be your Debtor, if you think it worth your at-
tention, for the rest of ray promised discourse, till some
other opportunity, and a like time of leisure.

Ven, Sir, you have Angled me on with much plea-
V sure to the Thatch* d-house ; and I now find your
^ yords true, " That good company makes the way

CHAP. !• THE COMPLETE ANGLER* 195

*• seem short;" for trust me. Sir, I thought we had
wanted three miles of this house till you showed it
to me. But now we are at it, we'll turn into it, and
refresh ourselves with a cup of drink, and a little rest.

Pise, Most gladly, Sir, and we'll drink a civil cup
to all the Otter-hunters that are to meet you to-
morrow.

Ven, That we will, Sir, and to all the lovers of
Angling too, of which number I am now willing to be
one myself; for by the help of your good discourse
and company, I have put on new thoughts both of
the art of Angling, and of all that profess it. And if
you will but meet me to-morrow at the time and place
appointed ; and bestow one day with me and my
friends, in hunting the Otter; — I will dedicate the
next two days to wait upon you ; and we two will, for
that time, do nothing but angle and talk of fish and
fishing.

Pise, It is a match, Sir, I will not fail you, God
willing, to be at Amwell-hill to-morrow morning
before sun-risin":.

19$ THE COMPLETE ANflLBR. VART I,

CHAPTER II.

Observations of the Otter and Chub.

Venator.

MY friend Piscator, you have kept lime "with my
llioiigbts; for the sun is just rising, and I myself just
now come to this place, and the dogs have just now
put down an Otter. Look! down at the bottom of
the hill there, in that meadow, chequered with Water-
lilties and Lady-smocks; there you may see what
■work they make ; look ! look ! you may sec all busy ;
men and dogs ; dogs and men ; all busy.

Pise. Sir, I am right glad to meet you ; and,^glad
to have so fair an entrance into this day's sport ; and
glad to see so many dogs, and more men all in pursuit
of the Otter. Let us compliment no longer, but join
unto them. Come, honest Venator! let us be gone,
let us make haste ; I long to be doing ; no reasonable
hedge or ditch shall hold me.

Ven. Grentleman Huntsman, where found you this
Otter?

Hunt. Marry, Sir, we found her a mile from this
place a-fishing. She has this morning eaten the
greatest part of this Trout; she has only left thus
much of it as you see, and was fishing for more ; when
we came we found her just at it : but we were here
very early, we were here an hour before sun-rise, and
have given her no rest since we came ; sure she will
hardly escape all these dogs and men. I am to have
the skin if we kill her.

Ven. Why, Sir, what is the skin worth ?

Hunt, It is worth ten shillings to make gloves ; the
gloves of an Otter are the best fortification for your
hands that can be thought on against wet weather.

CHAP.' II, THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 12T

Pise, I pray, honest Iluntsraan, let me ask you
a pleasant question ; Do you hunt a beast or a fish?

Hunt. Sir, it is not in my power to resolve you ; I
leave it to be resolved by the college of Carthusians,
who have made vows never to eat ilesh. But I have
heard, the question liath been debated among many-
great clerks ; and they seem to differ about it : yd:.
most agree that her tail is fish. And if her body be
lish too, tlien I may say that a fish will walk upon
land ; for an Otter does so, sometimes, five or six or
ten miles in a night, — to catch, for her young ones,
or to glut herselif with fish. And I can tell you that
Pigeons will fly forty miles for a breakfast. But, Sir,
I am sure the Otter devours much fish ; and kills and
spoils much more than he eats. And I can tell you,
that this (log'Jisher^ for so the Latins call him, can
smell a fish in the water an hundred yards from him :
Gesner says much farther, — and that his stones are
good against the falling sickness ; and that there is an
herb Benioiie^ which — being hung in a linen cloth,
near a fish-pond, or any haunt that he uses — makes
him to avoid ihe place; which proves he smells both
by water and land. And I can tell you, there is brave
hunting this water-dog in Cornwall ; where there have
been so many, that our learned Camden says, there is
a river called Ottersej/f which was so named, by reason
of the abundance of Otters that bred and fed in it.

And thus much, for my knowledge of the Otter:
w hich you may now sec above water at vent, and the
dogs close with him ; I now see he will not last long.
Follow therefore, my masters, follow ; for Sweetlips was
like to have him at this last went.

Ven, Oh me ! all the horse are got over the river ;
what shall we do now ? shall we follow them over the
water ?

Hunt. No, Sir, no ; be not so eager ; stay a little,
and follow me ; for both they and the dogs will be sud-
denly on this side again, I warrant you, and the Otter
too, it may be. Now have at him with Killbuck, for
he vents again.

128 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

Ten. Marry ! so he docs ; for, look ! lie vents in
that corner. Now, now, Ringwood has him : now,
he is ^one again ; and has bit the poor dog. Now,
Sweetlips has her: hold her, Sweetlips! now all the
dogs have her ; some above and some under water :
but, now, now, she is tired, and past losing. Come
bring her to me, Sweetlips. Look ! it is a Bitch-otter,
and she has lately whelped. Let's goto the place where
she was pat down; and, not far from it, yon will find
all her young ones, I dare warrant you, and kill thera
all too.

Hunt, Come, Gentlemen! come, all! let's go to
the place where we put down the Otter. Look you !
hereabout it was that she kennelled ; look you ! here it
"was indeed ; for here is her young ones, no less than
five : come let us kill them all.

Pise, No : I pray, Sir, save me one ; and I'll try if
I can make her tame, as 1 know an ingenious gentleman
in Leicestershire, Mr. Nkh. Seagrave, has done; who
bath not only made her tame, but to catch fish, and did
many other things of much pleasure.

Hunt, Take one, with all my heart; but let us kill
the rest. And now let's go to an honest ale-house,
where we may have a cup of good barley wine, and sing
Old Rose, and all of ns rejoice together.

Ven, Come, my friend Piscator, let me invite you
along with us. I'll bear your charges this night ; and
you shall bear mine to-morrow,— for my intention is to
accompany you a day or two in fishing.

Pise, Sir, your request is granted ; and I shall be
right glad, both to exchange such a courtesy, and also
to enjoy your company.

Ven. Well now let's go to your sport of angling.

Phc, Let's be going with all my heart. God keep
you all, Gentlemen ; and send you meetj this day, with
another Bitch-otter, and kill her merrily, and all her
young ones too.

Ven, Now, Piscator, where will you begin to fish ?

Pise, We are not yet come to a likely place; I
must walk a mile further yet before I begin.

CHAP. II. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. Ig9

Ten. Well then, I pray : As we walk, tell me freely,
how do you like your lodging, and mine host and the
company ? Is not mine host a witty man ?

Pise, Sir, I will tell you, presently, what I think of
your host : but, first, I will tell you, I am glad these
Otters were killed ; and I am sorry tliere are no more
Otter-killers ; fori know that the want of Otter-killers,
and the not keeping the fence-months for the preserva-
tion offish, will, in time, prove the destruction of all
rivers. And those very few that arc left, that make
conscience of the laws of the nation, and of keeping
days of abstinence, will be forced to eat flesh, or suffer
more inconveniences than are yfti foreseen.

Ven, Why, Sir, what be those that you call the
fencc'inonths ?

Pise. Sir, they be principally three, namely, March y
April and May ; for these be the usual months that
Salmon come out of the sea, to spawn, in most fresh
rivers. And their fry would, about a certain time,
return back io the salt- water, — if they were not hin-
dered by wires and unlawful gins, which the greedy
fishermen set ; and, so, destroy them by thousands, as
they [Ihe fry] would, being so taught by nature,
change the fresh for salt water. He that shall view the
wise Statutes made in the ISth of Edward I. and the
like in Richard III. may see several provisions, made
against the destruction of fish : and though I profess no
knowledge of the law, yet 1 am sure the regulation of
these defects might be easily mended. But I remember
that a wiwse friend of mine did usually, say, *' That
which is every body's business is no body's business:"
—if it were otherwise, there could not be so many nets,
and fish, that are under the statute-size, sold daily
amongst us ; and of which the conservators of the waters
should be ashamed*.

* About the year 1770— upon the trial of an indictment, before me, at
Hicks'sHall — a basket was produced in evidence, containing flounder*
that had been taken with unlawful nets in the river Thames, so small
that warce aj»y one of them would cover a half crown-piece. The in-

ISO THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PAUT I.

But, above all, the taking fish in spawning-time, may-
be said to be against nature ; it is like the taking the
dam on the nest when she hatches her young, — a sin so
against nature, that Almighty God hath in the Levitical
law made a law against it.

But the poor lish have enemies enough beside sucli
wn natural fishermen ; as namely, the Otters that I spake
of, tlie Cormorant, the Bittern, the Ospray, the Sea-
gull, the Hern, the King-fisher, the Gorara, the Puet,
the Swan, Goose, Duck, and the Craber which some call
the Water-rat : against all which any honest man
may make a just quarrel, — but I will not; I will
leave them to be quarrelled with, and killed by others ;
for I am not of a cruel nature, I love to kill nothing but
fish.

And, now, to your question concerning your host :
To speak truly, he is not to me a good companion;
for most of his conceits were either scripture jests, — or,
lascivious jests, — for which I count no man witty ; for
the devil will help a man that way inclined, to the
first; and his own corrupt nature, which he always
carries with him, to the latter. But a companion that
feasts the company with wit and mirth, and leaves out
the sin which is usually mixed with them, he is the
man ; and indeed such a companion should have his
charges borne ; and to such company I hope to bring
you this night ; for at Trout-hall^ not far from this
place, where I purpose to lodge to-night, there is
usually an Angler that proves good company. And
let me tell you, good company and good discourse arc
the very sinews of virtue. But for such discourse as
•we heard last night, it infects others ; the very boys
wilU learn to talk and swear, as they heard mine host,
and another of the company that shall be nameless : —
I am sorry the other is a gentleman ; for less religion
will not save their souls than a beggar's : I think

dictment was, For an aifray, and an assault on a person authorized to seize
unstatutable nets; and the sentence of the offender, A year's imprKomtient
in Newgate,

CHAP, n. THE COMPI.^'TE ANGLER. 131

more will be required at the last great day. Well !
you know what example is able to do ; and I know what
the poet says in the like case, — which is worthy to be
noted by all parents and people of civility :

many a one

Owes tb his country his religion ;

And in another, would as sfrongly grow,

Had but his nurse or mother taught him so.

This is reason put into verse, and worthy the con-
sideration of a wise man. But of this no more; for
though 1 love civility, yet 1 hate severe censures. Til
to my own art ; and I doubt not but at yonder tree
I shall catch a Chub ; and then we'll turn to an honest
cleanly hostess, that 1 know right well ; rest ourselves
there ; and dress it for our dinner.

Ven. Oh, Sir ! a Chub is the worst fish that swims ;
I hoped for a Trout to my dinner.

Pise. Trust me, Sir, there is not a likely place
for a Trout hereabout : and we staid so long to take
our leave of j'our huntsmen this morning, that the
sun is got so high, and shines so clear, that I will not
undertake the catching of a Trout till evening. And
though a Chub be, by you and many others, reckoned
the worst of fish ; yet you shall see Til make it a good
fish by dressing it.

Ven, Why, how will you dress him ?

Pise, ril tell you by and by, vvlieni have caught
him. Look you here, Sir, do you see ? (but you must
stand very close,) there lie upon the top of the water,
in this very liole, twenty Chubs. I'll catch only one,
and that shall be the biggest of them all i and that 1
will do so, I'll hold you twenty to one : and you shall
see it done.

Ven. Ay, marry ! Sir, now you talk like an artist;
and I'll say you are one, when 1 shall see you perform
what you say you can do : but I yet doubt it.

Pise. You shall not doubt it long ; for you shall
see me do it presently. Look ! the biggest of these
Chubs has had some bruise upon his tail, by a Pike,
pr some other accident ; and that looks like a white

1S2 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

spot. That very Chub I mean to put into your
hands presently ; sit you but down in the shade ; and
stay but a little while ; and, I'll warrant you, I'll bring
him to you.

Ven, I'll sit down ; and hope well, because you
seem to be so confident.

Pise, Look you, Sir, there is a trial of my skill ;
there he is ;

CHUB.^

That very Ghub, that I showefl you, with the white
spot on his tail. And I'll be as certain, to make him
a good dish of meat, as I was to catch him; I'll now
lead you to an honest ale-house ; where we shall find a
cleanly room, lavender in the windows, and twenty
ballads stuck against the wall*. There my hostess
—which, I may tell you, is both cleanly, and hand-
some, and civil — hath dressed many a one for me;
and shall now dress it after my fashion; and I warrant
it good meat.

Ven. Come, Sir, with all my heart ; for I begiij
to be hungry, and long to be at it, and indeed to rest
myself too, — for though I have walked but four miles
this morning, yet I begin to be weary, — yesterday's
hunting hangs still upon me.

* A very homely, artless, and yet a picturesque scene : and I wish the
honest angler no worse entertainment than many such houses as this
afford.

_?>3'

Aiuiimt jcuJp.

CHAP. II. THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

13S*

Pise, Well, Sir, and you shall quickly be at rest,
for yonder is the house I mean to bring you to.

Come, hostess ! how do you do ? Will you first
give us a cup of your best drink ; and then dress this
Chub, as you dressed my last, when I and my friend
were here about eight or ten days ago ? But you must
do me one courtesy; it must be done, instantly.

Host. I will do it, Mr. Piscatory and with all the
speed I can.

Pise, Now, Sir, has not my hostess made haste ?
and does not the fish look lovely ?

Ven. Both, upon ray word, Sir; and therefore let's
say grace, and fall to eating of it.

Pise, Well, Sir, how do you like it ?

Ven. Trust me, 'tis as good meat as I ever tasted.
Now let me thank you for it ; drink to you; and beg a
courtesy of you, — but it must not be denied me.

Pise. What is it, I pray, Sir ? You are so modest,
that methinks I may promise to grant it, before it is
asked.

Ven. Why, Sir, it is, That from henceforth you
would allow me to call you master, and that really
I may be your scholar : for you are such a companion,
and have so quickly caught, and so excellently cooked
this fish, as makes me ambitious to be your scholar.

Pise. Give me your hand. From this time forward
I will be your master, and teach you as much of this
art as I am able ; and will, as you desire me, tell yoii
somewhat of the nature of most of the fish that we are
to angle for, and I am sure I both can and .will tell
you, more than any common angler yet knows.

134 THE COMPLETE ANGLEU, PART I,

CHAPTER III.

How to fish for, and to dress the Chavender, or
Chub.

PlSCATOR.

THE Chub though he eat well, thus dressed ; yet as
he is usually dressed, he does not. He is objected
Against, not only for being full of small forked bones,
dispersed through all his body, but that he eats waterish,
and that the flesh of hira is not firm, but short and
tasteless. The French esteem him so mean, as to call
him Un Villain. Nevertheless, he may be so dressed,
as to make hira very good meat; as namely, if he be
a large Chub, then dress him thus :

First, scale him; and then wash him clean; and
then take out his guts, — and to that end make the
hole as little, and near to his gills, as you may conve-
niently. And, especially, make clean his throat from
the grass and weeds that are usually in it ; for if that
be not very clean, it will make him to taste very
sour. Having so done, put some sweet herbs into his
belly ; and then tie him with two or three splinters
to a spit; and roast him, basted often with vinegar,
or rather verjuice and butter, and with good store of salt
mixed with it.

Being thus dressed, you will find him a much
better dish of meat than you, or most folk, even than
anglers themselves do imagine. For this dries up the
fluid watery humour with which all Chubs do abound.

But take this rule with you, That a Chub newly
taken and newly dressed, is so much better than a
Chub of a day's keeping after he is dead, that I can
compare him — to nothing so fitly as — to cherries
newly gathered from a tree, aud others that have
been bruised and lain a day or two in water. But
the Chub being thus used^ and dressed presently;

OliAP. III. THE COMPLETE ANGLEH. 135

and not washed after he is gutted-— for note, That
lying long in water, and washing the blood out of any
fish after they be gutted, abates much of their sweetness —
you will find the Chub, (being dressed in the blood,
and quickly), to be snch meat as will recompense your
labour, and disabuse your opinion.

Or you may dress the Cha vender or Chub thus :

When you have scaled him, and cut off his tail
and fins, and washed him very clean ; — then chine or
slit him through the middle, as a salt-fish is usually cut ;
then give him three or four cuts or scotches on the back
with your knife. And broil him on charcoal, or wood
coal, that are free from smoke. And all the time he is
a broiling, baste him with the best sweet butter, and
good store of salt mixed with it. And to this,
add a little thyme cut exceeding small, or bruised into
the butter. The Chevcnthus dressed ; hath the watery
taste taken away, for which so many except against him.
Thus was the Cheven dressed (hat you now liked so
well, and commended so much. But note again, that if
this Chub that you eat of, had been kept till to-mor-
row, he had not been worth a rush. And remember,-—
that his throat be washed very clean, I say very clean,-^
and his body not washed after he is gutted, as indeed
no fish should be.

Well, scholar, you see what pains I have taken to re-
cover the lost credit of the poor despised Chub. And
now I will give you some rules how to catch him : And
I am glad to enter you into the art of fishing by catch-
ing a Chub ; for there is no fish better to enter a young
angler, — he is so easily caught, but then it must be this
particular way.

Go to the same liole in which I caught my Chub ;
where, in most hot days, you will find a dozen or twenty
Chevens floating near the top of the water. Get two or
three grashoppers as you go over the meadow ^ And get
secretly behind the tree, and stand as free from motion
as is possible. Then put a grashopper on your hook ;
and let your hook hang a quarter of a yard short of the
water, to which end you must rest your rod on some
bough of the tree. But it is likely the Chubs will sink

18(J THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

down towards the bottom of the water, at the first shadow
of your rod ; for the Chub is the fearfuUest of fishes ;
and will do so if but a birdflies over him, and makes the
least shadow on the water. But they will presently rise
lip to the top airain, and there lie soaring till some sha-
dow affriijhts them a^ain. I say, when they lie upon
the top of the water, look out the best Chub ; which you,
setting yourself in a fit place, may very easily see ; and
move yonr rod, as softly as a snail moves, to that Chub
you intend to catch ; let your bait fall gendy upon the
water three or four inches before him, and he will infal-
libly take the bait. And you will be as sure to catch
him ; for he is one of the leather- mouthed fishes, of
which a hook does scarce ever lose its hold, — and
therefore give him play enough before you offer to take
him out of the water. Go your way presently ;' take
my rod, and do as I bid you ; and 1 will sit down and
mend my tackling till you return back.

Ven. Truly, my loving master, you have offered
me as fair as I could wish. I'U go and observe your
directions.

Look you, master, what I have done ! that which
joys my heart, caught just such another Chub as your?
was.

Pise, Marry ! and I am glad of it : I am like to
have a towardly scholar of you. I now see, that with
advice and practice, you will make an angler in a shor^
time. Have but a love to it ; and I'll warrant you.

Ven» But, master ! what if I could not have found
a grashopper?

Pise. Then I may tell you, That a black snail, with
his belly slit, to shew his white ; or a pieqe of soft cheese ;
will usually do as well. Nay, sometimes a worm ; or
any kind of fly, as the ant-fly, the flesh"fly, or wall-fly ;
or the dor or beetle, which you may find under cow-
dung ; or a bob, which you will find in the same place,
and in time will be a beetle, — it is a short white worm,
like to and bigger than a gentle ; or a cod- worm ; or a
case-worm ; any of these will do very well to fish in such
a manner.

And after this manner you may catch a Trout, in a

eHAP.Ill. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1S7

liot evening : When, as you walk by a brook, and shall
see or hear him leap at flies ; then, if yon get a grashop-
per, put it on your hook, with your line about two yards
lon'i^ ; standing behind a bush or tree where his hole is.
And make your bait stir up and down on the top of (he
water. You may, if you stand close, be sure of a bite ;
but not sure to catch l]im, — for he is not a leather-
mouthed fish. And after this manner you may fish for
him with almost any kind of live fly, but especially with
a grasliopper.

Ven. But before you go further, I pray, good mas-
ter, what mean you by a leather-mouthed fish ?

Pise. By a leather- mouthed fish, I mean such as
have their teeth in their throat, as the Chub or Cheven ;
and so the Barbel, the Gudgeon, and Carp, and divers
others hav«. And the hook being stuck into the leather,
or skin, of the mouth of such fish ; does very seldom or
never lose its hold : but on the contrary, a Pike, a
Pearch, or Trout, and so some other fish, which have
not their teeth in their throats, but in their mouths ;
which you shall observe to be very full of bones, and
the skin very thin, and little of it ; I say, of these fish
the hook never takes so sure hold, but you often lose
your fish, unless he have gorged it.

Ven. I thank you, good master, for this observation.
But now, what shall be done with my Chub or Cheven
that I have caught.

Pise. Marry ! Sir, it shall be given away to some
poor body ; for I'll warrant you I'll give you a Trout
for your supper : and it is a good beginning of your art
to offer your first fruits to the poor, who will both
thank you and God for it, which I see by your silence
you seem to consent to. And for yojir willingness to
part with it so charitably, I will also teach more con-
cerning Chub-fishing : You are to note, that in March
and April he is usually taken with worms ; in Mat/^
Juncy and July^ he will bite at any flyj— or at cherries,
—or at beetles with their legs and wings cut off", — or at
any kind of snail, — or at the black bee, that breeds in
clay walls. And he never refuses a grashopper, on

\9.

t3S THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I*

the top of a swift stream * ; nor, at tlie bottom, the
young humble bee that breeds in long grass, and is or*
dinarily found by the mower of it. In August, and in
the cooler months ; a yellow paste, made of the strong*
est cheese, and pounded in a mortar, with a little but-
ter,— and saffron, so much of it as being beaten small,
Avill turn it to a lemon colour. And some make a paste,
for the winter months— at which time the Chub is ac*
counted best ; for then it is observed, that the forked
bones are lost, or turned into a kind of gristle, especially
if he be baked — of cheese and turpentine. He will bite
also at a minnow, or penk ; as a Trout will : of which I
shall tell you more hereafter, and of divers other baits.
But take this for a rule, That, in hot weather, he is to be
fished for towards the mid-water, or near the top ; and
in colder weather, nearer the bottom. And if you fish
for him on the top, with a beetle, or any fly ; then, be
sure to let your line be very long, and to keep out of
sight. And having told you, that his spawn is excel-
lent meat, — and that the head of a large Cheven, the
throat being well washed, is the best part of him, — -I
w^ili say no more of this fish at. the present, but wish
you may catch the next you fish for.

But, lest you may judge me too nice in urging to have
the Chub dressed so presently after he is taken, I will
commend to your consideration how curious former
times have been in the like kind.

You shall read in Seneca's Natural Questions y Lib.
III. Cwp, 17, that the ancients were so curious in the
newness of their fish, that that seemed not new enough
that was not putative into the guest's hand, Arjd he
says, that to that end they did usually keep them living
in glass-bottles in their dining-rooms; and they did
glory much, in their entertaining of friends, to have that
fish taken from under their table alive that was instantly
to be fed-upon. And he says, they took great pleasure

* In the Thames, above Richmond, the best way of using the grashop-
per for Chub, is to fish with it as with an artificial fly ; the first joints of
the legs must be pinched off: and in this way — ^when the weed is rotten,
which is seldom till Seftmber'^lht largest Dace are taken.

CHAP. III. THE COMPtETE ANfetEH. l^T/

to see their Mullets change to several colours, when they
were dying. But enough of this ; for I doubt I have
staid too long from giving you some Observations of the
Trout, and how to fish for him, — which shall take up
the next of my spare time *.

* The haunts of the Chub are streams shaded with trees : in summfer,
deep holes,— where they will sometimes float near the surface of the wa-
ter ; and under the boughs, on the side of a bank.

Their spawning-time is towards the beginning of April : they are in
reason from about the middle of May, till the middle of February ; but
are best in winter.

At mid- water, and at bottom, — use a float ; at top, — either dib, or, if
you have room, use the fly-line as for Trout.

They are so eager in biting, that, when they take the bait, you may
hear their jaws chop like those of a dog.

1 3

I

1^ THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I,

CHAPTER IV.

Observations of the Nature and Breeding of the
Trout, and how to jish for him, And the Milk-

maid's Song,

PiSCATOR..

THE Trout is a fish highly valued, both in this and
foreign nations. He may be justly said, as the old
poet said of wine, and we English say of venison, to be
a generous fish : a fish that is so like the buck, that he
also has his seasons ; for it is observed, that he comes in
and goes out of season with the stag and buck. Gesner
says, his name is of a German offspring ; and he says
he is a fish that feeds clean and purely, in the swiftest
streams, and on the hardest gravel ; and that he may
justly contend with all fresh- water fish, as the Mullet
may with all sea-fish, for precedency and daintiness of
taste; and that being in right season, the most dainty
palates have allowed precedency to him.

And before I go farther into my discourse, — let me
tell you, that you are to observe, that as there be some
barren Does that are good in summer, so there be some
barren IVouts that are good in winter ; but there are not
many that are so ; for usually they be in their perfection
in the mouth of May, and decline with the buck. Now
you are to take notice, That in several countries — as
in Germany, and in other parts — compared to ours,
fish do differ much in their bigness and shape, and
other ways ; and so do Trouts. It is well known, that
in the lake Leman, the Lake of Geneva, there are Trouts
taken of three cubits long ; as is affirmed by Gesner, a
writer of good credit: And Mercator* says, the Trouts

* Gerard Mercator, of Ruremond in Flanders, a man of so intense appli-
cation to mathematical studies, that he neglected the necessary refresh-
ments of nature. He engraved with his own hand, and coloured, the
maps to his geographical writings. He wrote several books of Theology -^
and died 1594,

CtlAI*. IV. THE COMPLtTE ANGLEIt. 14l

that are taken in the lake of Geneva, are a great ])art of
the merchandize of that famous city. And you are
further to know, that there be certain waters that breed
Trouts remarkable, botli for their number and small-
ness. I know a little brook in Kent, that breeds them to
a number incredible, and you may take them Uveniy or
forty in an hour, but none greater than about the size
ofaGjidgeon. There are also, in divers rivers— espe-
cially that relate to, or be near to the sea, as Winchester ;
or, the Thames about Windsor — a little Trout called a
Samlet, or Skcijjger Trout ; in both which places I have
caught twenty or forty at a standing ; that will bite as
fast and as fn ely as Minnows : These be by some taken
to be young Salmons ; but, in those waters they never
grow to be bigger than a Herring.

There is also in Kent, near to Canterbury, a Trout
called there a Fordidge Trout, a Trout that bears the
name of the town where it is usually caught, that is ac-
counted the rarest of fish ; many of them near the big-
ness of a Salmon, but known by their different colour ;
and in their best season they cut very white : — And
none of these have been known to be caught with an
angle, unless it were one that was caught by Sir George
Hastings, an excellent angler, and now with God : and
he hath told me, he thought that Trout bit not for
hunger but wantonness ; and it is the rather to be be-
lie ved, — because both he, then, and many others before
him, have been curious to search into their bellies,
what the food was by which they lived ; and have
found out nothing by which they might satisfy their
curiosity.

Concerning which you are to take notice, that it fs
reported by good Authors, That grashoppers *, and

* It has been said by naturalists — particularly by Sir Theodore May-
erne, in an Epistle to Sir PVilliam Faddy, prefixed to the translation of
MoufFet's Instet. Theatr. printed with Topsel's History of four-footed Beasts
and Serpents — ^that the grashopper has no mouth, but a pipe in his breast,
through which it sucks the dew, which is its nutriment. There are two
sorts, the green and the dun ; some say there is a third, of a yellowish
green. They are found in long grass, from J une to the end of September,
and even in October, if the weather be mild. In the middle of May, you
•will see — in the joints of roisemary, thistles, and almost all the larger weeds

i 4

142 THE eOMPLETE ANGliCR*^ PART T*,

some fish have no mouths, but are nouribhed and take
breath by the porousness of their giHs, man knows not
how: And this may be believed, if we consider that
when the raven hatii hatched her eggs, she takes no far-
ther care, but leaves her young ones to the care of the
God of nature, who is said in the Psalms, " To feed
'^ the young ravens that call upon him ;" and iJiey be
ke|>t alive and fed, — by a dew ; or, worms that breed
in their nests ; or, some other ways that we mortals
know not. And this may be believed of the Fordidge
Trout, which — as it is said of the stork, that he knows
his season, so he — knows his times, I think almost his
day of coming into that river out of the sea ; where he
lives, and (it is like) feeds, nine months of the year ;
and fasts three in the river of Fordidge. And you are to
note, that those townsmen are very punctual in observing
the time of beginning to fish for them ; and boast much,,
that their river aftbrds a Trout that exceeds all others.
And just so does Sussex\)o?^%i of several fish ; as name-
ly, a Shelseiy Cockle, a Chichester Lobster y slu Arundel
Mullet, and an Amerley Trout,

And, now, for some confirmation of the Fordidge
Trout : you are to know. That this Trout is thought to
eat nothinfii: in the fresh water ; and it may be the better
believed, because it is well known, that swallows, and
bats, and wagtails — which are called half-year birds,
and not seen to fly in England for six months in the
year, but, about Micliaelmas, leave us for a hotter cli-
yieiv Sir Fran, mate — yet some of them that have been left
Bacon, £x/>er, behind their fellows, have been found, many
^^' thousands at a time, in hollow trees, or clay

caves ; where they have been observed to live, and sleep
out the whole winter, without meat. And so Albertus *

—a white fermented froth, which the country people call Cuckoiv^s SpH :
in these the eggs of the gra'shopper are deposited ; and if you examine
them, you shall never fail of finding a yellowish insect, of about the size
and shape of a grain of wheat, which, doubtless, is the young grashopper.
A passage to this purpose, is in Leigh's History of Lancashire, page 148.

* Albertus Magnus^ a German Dominican, and a very learned man ; Ur- :
ban IV. compelled him to accept of the bishoprick of Ratisbon. He wrote
a treatise on the 'Secrets of Nature^ and twenty other volumes in folio; and*
died at Co%/»f, 1280.

CHAP. IV. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 143^

observes, That there is one kind of frog that hath her

mouth naturally shut up about the end

of August, and that she lives so all the ^togsT -^

winter : and though it be strange to some,

yet it is known to too many among us to be doubted +.

And so much for these Fordidge Trout s, which never
afford an angler sport ; but either live, their time of
being in the fresh water, by their meat formerly gotten
in the sea, — (not unlike the swallow or frog,) — or, by
the virtue of the fresh water only, — or, as the birds of
Paradise and the cameleon are said to live, by the sun
and the air +.

There is also in Northumberland a Trout called a
Bull-trout^ of a much greater length and bigness than
any in these southern parts. And there are, in many
rivers tliat relate to the sea, Salmon-i routs, as much dif-
ferent from others, both in shape and in their spots, as
we see sheep in some countries differ one from another,
in their shape and bigness and in the fineness of their
wool. And, certainly, as some pastures breed larger
sheep ; so do some rivers, by reason of the ground over
which they run, breed larger Trouts.

Now the next thing that I will commend to your
consideration is. That the Trout is of a more sudden
growth than other fish. Concerning which, you are
also to take notice, that he lives not so long as tlje
Pearch, and divers other fishes do ; as Sir Francis
Bacon hath observed in his History of Life and Death.,

And next you are to take notice. That he is not like-

* Edward Topsel was the author of a History of four-footed Beasts and
Serpents — collected out of the works of Gesner, and other authors — in fo-
lio, Lond. 16^58. In this history, he describes the several kinds of frogs ;
and in page 721 thereof, cites from Albertus the fact here related. See an
account of him in Walton's Life.

t See Chap, VIII.

\ That the Cameleon liv€s by the air alone is a vulgar error, it being"
well known that its food is flies and other insects. See Sir Tho. Brown V
Enquiry into vulgar and common Errors^ Book III. Chap. 21. Abput the year
1780, a living Cameleon was to be seen in the garden of the Company of
Apothecaries at Chelsea. And, at this time, (1784,) an exanimated one,
in a state of excellent preservation, is open to public view among the quad-
rupeds in Sir Ashton Lever's inestimable collection of natural curiosities*
See page 108, ante, n.

144 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART J,

the Crocodile, which if he lives never so long, yet al-
ways thrives till his death : but it is not so with the
Trout; for after he is come to his full growth, he de-
clines, in his body, — and keeps liis bigness, or thrives,
only in his head — till his death. And you are to know.
That he will, about (especially before) the time of his
spawning, get, almost miraculously, through weirs and
flood-gates, against the streams ; even through such
high and swift places as is almost incredible. Next,
That ihe Trout usually spawns about October or No^
TembeVy but in some riv< rs a little sooner or later ;
which is the more observable, because most other fish
spawn in the spring or summer, when the sun hath
warmed both the earth and water, and made it fit for
generation. And you are to note, Tliat he continues
many months out of ricason ; for it rm,y be observed,
of the Trout, that he is like the Buck — or, the Ox-—
that will not be fat in many months, though he go in
the very same pastures that horses do ; which will be
fat in one month. And so you may observe, That
most other fishes recover strength, and grow sooner
fat and in season than the Trout doth.

And next you are to note. That till the sun gets to
such a height as to warm the earth and the water, the
Trout is sick and lean, and lousy, and unwholesome ;
for you shall, in Winter, find him to have a big
head, — and, then, to be lank and thin and lean, — at
which time, many of them have stickmg on them sugs,
or Trout-lice; which is a kind of a worm, in shape
like a clove, or pin with a big head, — and sticks close
to liim, and sucks his moisture ; those, I think, the
Trout breeds himself. And never thrives till he free
himself from them, which is when warm weather
comes; and, then, as he grows stronger, he gets, from
the dead still water, into the sharp streams and the
gravel, — and, there, rubs off these worms or lice ;
and then, as he grows stronger, so he gets him into
swifter and swifter s- reams, — and there lies at the watch
for any fly or minnow that comes near to him ; and
he especially loves the May-fly, which is bred of the
cod -worm 5 or cadis, — and these make ihe Trout bold

CHAP. IV. THE COMPLETE ANGLEH. I^

and lusty. And he is usually fatter and better meat
at the end of that month, [May] than at any time of
the year.

Now you are to know, that it is observed, That
usually the best Trouts are either red or yellow ;
though some, as the P'ordidge Trout, be white and,
yet, good; but that is not usual. And it is a note
observable, That the female Trout hath usually a less
head, and a deeper body than the male Trout, and is
jisually the better meat. And note, That a hog-back
and a little head — to either Trout, Salmon, or any
other fish — is a sign that that fish is in season.

But yet you are to note, That as you see some wil-
lows, or palm-trees, bud and blossom sooner than others
do; so some Trouts be, in rivers, sooner in season : and
as some hollies, or oaks, are longer before they cast
their leaves; so are some Trouts, in rivers, longer before
they go cut of season.

And you are to note, That there are several kinds of
Trouts : Bat these several kinds are not considered but
by very few men ; for they go under the general name
of Trouts, — just as pigeons do, in most places ; thongh
it is certain, there are tame and wild pigeons; and of
the tame, there be helmits and runts, and carriers and
cropers, and indeed too many to name. Nay, the
Royal Society have found and published lately, that
there be thirty and three kinds of spiders; and yei all,
for aught I know, go under that one general name of
spider. And it is so with many kinds of fish, and of
Trouts especially ; which differ in their bigness and
shape, and spots and colour. The great Kentish hens
raay be an instance, compared to other hens. And,
doubtless, there is a kind of small Trout, which will
never thrive to be big ; that breeds verj^ many more
than others do, that be of a larger size: which you
may rather believe, if you consider that the little wren
and titmouse will have twenty young ones at a time,
when usually, the noble hawk, or the musical thrassel
or blackbird, exceed not four or five.

And now you shall see me try my skill to catch a
Trout. And at my next walking, either this evening or

146 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART £.

to-morrow morning, I will give you direction how you
yourself shall fish for him.

Veti. Trust me, master! I see now it is a harder
matter to catch a Trout than a Chub : for I have put
on patience, and followed you these two hours, and
not seen a fish stir, neither at your minnow nor your
worm.

Pise, Well, scholar! you must endure worse luck
sometime, or you will never make a good angler. But
what say you now ? there is a Trout now, and a good
one too, if I can but hold him : and two or three turns
more will tire him ; now you see he lies still, and the
sleight is to land him: reach me that landing-net. So,
JSir, now he is mine own : what say you now, is not
this worth all my labour and your patience ?

Ven. On my word, master! this is a gallant Trout;
what shall we do with him ?

Pise. Marry ! e'en eat him to supper : we'll go to
my hostess from whence we came ; she told me, as I
was going out of door, that my brother Peter, a good
angler and a chearful companion, had sent word he
would lodge there to night, and bring a friend with
liim. My hostess has two beds, and 1 know you and
I may have the best : we'll rejoice with my brother
Peter and his friend, tell talcs, or sing ballads, or
make a catch, or find some harmless sport to content
us, and pass away a little time without offence to God
or man.

Ven. A match, good master ! let's go to that house,
for the linen looks white, and smells of lavender^ and
1 long to lie in a pair of sheets that smell so. Let's
be going, good master, for I am hungry again, with
fishing.

Fisc. Nay, stay a little, good scholar. I caught
my last Trout with a worm ; now, I will put on a
minnow, and try a quarter of an hour about yonder
trees for another ; and, so, walk towards our lodgingo
Look you, scholar ! thereabout, we shall have a bite
presently, or not at all. Have with you. Sir : o'roy
word I have hold of him. Oh ! it is a great logger-
headed Chub; come, hang him upon that willow twig;.

CHAP. IV. THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 147

and let's be going. But tiirn out of the way a little,
good scholar ! toward yonder high honeysuckle hedge ;
there, we'll sit and sing, whilst this shower falls so
gently upon the teeming earth, and gives yet a sweeter
smell to the lovely flowers that adorn these verdant
meadows.

Look! under that broad beech-tree, I sat down, when
I was last this way a-fishing. And the birds in the
adjoining grove seemed to have a friendly contention
with an echo, whose dead voice seemed to live in a
hollow tree, near to the brow of that primrose-hill.
There, I sat viewing the silver streams glide silently
towards their centre, the tempestuous sea; yet some-
times opposed by rugged roots and pebble-stones,
which broke their waves, and turned them into foam.
And sometimes I beguiled time by viewing the harm-
less lambs ; some leaping securely in the cool shade,
whilst others sported themselves in the chearful sun, —
and saw others craving comfort from the swollen
udders of their bleating dams. As I thus sat, these
and other sights had so fully possest my soul with
content, that I thought, as the poet has happily ex«
prest it,

I was for that time lifted above earth ;
And possest jojs not promis'd in my birth.

As I left this place and entered into the next field, a
second pleasure entertained me : 'twas a handsome
milk-maid, that had not yet attained so much age and
wisdom as to load her mind, with any fears of many
things that will never be, as too many men too often
do : but she cast away all care, and sung like a nightin-
gale ; her voice was good ; and the ditty, fitted for it, —
it was that smooth song, which^w^s made by Kit Mar^
low* J now at least fifty years ago. And the milk-

* Christopher Marlozu was a poet of no small eminence in his day, as
may be inferred from the frequent mention of him in the writings of his
contemporaries. He was, some time, a student at Cambridge ; and, after
that, an actor on, and a writer for the stage. There are extant, of his
writing, five Tragedies ; and a Poem that bears his name, entitled, Hero
and Zfawi/'fr— possibly a translation from Musxus— which, he not living

148 THE COMPLETE ANGLER* PART T,

maid's mother sung an ansvv'jr to it, which was made
bj Sir Walter Raleigh in his younger days.

They were old-fashioned poetry, but choicely good :
I think, much better than the strong lines that are now
in fashion iii this critical age. Look yonder! on my
word, yonder, they both be a milking again. I will
give her the Chub, and persuade them to sing those
two songs to us.

God speed you, good woman ! I have been a fishing ;
and am going to Bleak-Hall^ to my bed ; and having
caught more fish than will sup myself and my friend, I
will bestow this upon you and your daughter, for I use
io sell none.

Milk'W, Marry ! God requite you, Sir, and we'll
eat it chearfully. And if you come this way a fishing
two months hence, a grace of God ! I'll give you sylla-
bub of new verjuice, in a new-made hay-cock, for it.
And my Maudlin shall sing you one of her best ballads ;
for she and I both love all anglers, they be such honest,
civil, quiet men t. In the mean time will you drink a
draught of red cow's milk ? you shall have it freely.

to compleat it, was finished by Chapman. The Song here mentioned is
printed, with his name to it,. in a Collection entitled England's Helicon^
4to. 1600, as is also the Anstve'r., here said to be written by Sir Walter
Raleigh, but there subscribed " Ignoto." Of Marlow it is said, that he
was the author of divers atheistical and blasphemous discourses ; and that
in a quarrel with a serving man, his rival in a connection with a lewd
w^oman, he receive4 a stab with a dagger, and shortly after died of the
stroke. Wood— from whom, Athen. Oxon. Vol. I. 338. and also from
Beard's Tkmtre of God's 'Judgments^ this account is taken — says, that the
end of this person was noted by the Precisians ; but sui'ely the Precisians
are to be acquitted of all blame, as having done nothing more than assert-
ed God's moral government of the world, by noting in this instance, one
example out of many, of the natural tendency of impiety and profligacy
to destruction and infamy.

* Ihe author seems here to have forgot himself ; for, page 130, he
says he is to lodge at Trout- Hall.

f There are some few exceptions to this character of anglers : the
greatest and most wonderful revolution that ever happened in any
state, I mean that in Naples, in the year 1647, was brought about by an
Analer : concerning whom we are told, " That a young man, about
*' tv/enty-four, happened to be in a corner of the great market-place at
«< Naples; a sprightly man, of a middle stature, black-eyed, rather lean
" than fat, having a small tuft of hair; he wore linen slops, a blue waist-
«« coat, and went barefoot, with « mariner's eap ; but he was of a good
«' countenance, stout, and lively as could be. His profession was to angh

Frinxed, rbr S.BaastarlSoS.

\ .AuMnet jeulp.

CHAP. IV. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 14^

Ik

Pisc, No, I thank you ; but, I pray, do us a
courtesy that shall stand you and your daughter in no-
thing, and yet we will think ourselves still something in
your debt : it is but to sing us a song that was sung by
your daughter when F, last, past over this meadow,
about eight or nine days since.

Milk'W, What song was it, I pray? Was it, Come
shepherds deck your herds? or. As at noon Dulcina
rested? or, PhilUda flouts me? or, Chevi/ Chace?
or, Johnny Armstrong ? or, Trot/ Town * ?

Pise, No, it is none of those ; it is a song that your
daughter sung the first part, and you sung the answer
to it.

Milk'W. O, I know it now. I learned the first part
in my golden age, when I was about the age of ray poor
daughter ; and the latter part, which indeed iits me best
jiow, but two or three years ago, when the cares of the
world began to take hold of me : but you shall, God
willing, he ir them both ; and, sung as well as we can,
for we both love anglers. Come, Maudlin! sing the first
part to the gentlemen, with a merry heart; £iud 1*11 sing
the second, when you have done.

THE MILK MAID'S SONG.

Come live with me, and be my love ;
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That valleys, groves, or hills, or field.
Or woods, and steepy mountains yield, —

Where we will sit, upon the rocks,
And see the shepherds feed our flocks.
By shallow rivers ; to whose falls,
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

" for little fish -with a cane, book, and line. His name was Tomasso Anelh^
** of Amalfi, but vulgarly called Masaniello." See the History of the
Revolution in Naples, by Sig. Alessandro Giraffi.

* See the songs As at Noon, Chevy Chace, Johnny Armstrong, and Troy
Toivn, printed, after the most authentic copies, in Percy's Reliques of and'
ent English Poetry. PhilUda flouts me, is to be found in an elegant col-
lection of songs entitled The Hive^ in four volumes small 8vo. Vol. II,
p. 270.

ioO THE COMPLETE ANGLER, PARTI.

And I will make thee beds of roses ;
And, then, a thousand fragrant posies ;
A cap of flowers ; and a kirtle,
Embroider'd all with Iea,ves of myrtle;

A gown made of the finest wool.
Which from our pretty lambs we pull ;
Slippers, lin'd choicely for the cold ;
With buckles of the purest gold ;

A belt, of straw and ivy-buds.
With coral clasps, and amber studs.
And if these pleasures may thee move.
Come live with me, and be my love.

Thy silver dishes, for thy meat
As precious as the Gods do eat.
Shall, on an ivory table, be
Prepar'd each day for thee and me.

The shepherd swains shall dance and sing.
For thy delight, each May morning.
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me, and be my love *.

Ven. Trust me, master! it is a choice song, and
sweetly siin^ by honest Maudlin. I now see it was not
without cause, that our good queen Elizabeth did so
often wish herself a milk- maid all the month of May ;
because they are not troubled with fears and cares, but
sing sweetly all the day, and sleep securely all the night,
— and without doubt, honest, innocent, pretty Maud-

* Dr. Warburton, in his Notes on T/je M/^rry Wii'es of Windsor^ as-
cribes this song to Shakespeare : it is true, Sir Hugh Evans, in the third
Act of that play, sings four lines of it ; and it occurs — in a Collection of
Pvems said to be Shakespeare's, printed by Thomas Cotes for John Benson,
12mo. 1640 — with some variations. On the contrary, it is to be found,
with the name of " Christopher Marlow" to it, in England^s Helicon:
and Walton has just said it was made by Kit. Marlow. The reader will
judge of these evidences, as he pleases.

As to the song itself; though a beautiful one, it is not so purely pastoral,
as it is generally thought to be ; buckles Qfgoldy coral clasps and ami>er
studs, silver dishes and ivory tables, are luxuries; and consist not with the
parsimony and simplicity of rural life and manners.

CHAP. IV. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 151;

lin does so. I'll bestow Sir Thomas Overbury's milk-
inaid's wish upon her, " That she may die in the
'' Spring ; and, being dead, may haye good store of
" flowers stuck round about her winding-sheet*.'*

THE MILK-MAID'S MOTHER'S ANSWER.

If all the world and love were young ;
And truth in every shepherd's tongue.
These pretty pleasures might me move ;
To live with thee, and be thy love.

But Time drives flocks from field to fold ;
When rivers rage, and rocks grow cold.
Then Philomel becometh dumb ;
And age complains of care to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter, reckoning, yieldg.
A honey tongue, a heart of gall,
Is fancy's spring, but sorrow's fall.

Thy gowns, thy shoes, thy beds of roses.
Thy cap, thy kirtle, and thy posies,
Soon break, soon wither, sooa forgotten?
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

The belt of straw, and ivy buds,
The coral clasps, and amber studs,-—
All these in me no means can move.
To come to thee, and be thy love.

What should we talk of dainties, then,
Of better meat than's fit for men ?
These are but vain ; that's only good
Which God hath blest, and sent for food.

But could youth last; and, love still bread ;
Had joys no date ; nor, age no need ;
Then those delights my mind might move,
To live with thee, and be thy love,

♦ Sir Thomas Overbury's CharmtUr of a fair and happy MllimaiJ, printed .
"With his poem entitled Tbe JVife^ in 12mo, 1655.

159 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

Mother, Well ! I have done my song. But stay,
honest angler ! for I will make Maudlin to sing you one
short song more. Maudlin ! sing that song that you
sung last night, when young Coridon the shepherd
played so purely on his oaten pipe, to you and your
cousin Betty.

Maud. I will, mother!

I married a iiyife of late.
The morels my unhappy fate :
I married her for love,
As mj fancy did me move.
And not for a worldly estate. *

But oh ! the green sickness
Soon changed her likeness ;
And all her beauty did fail.
But 'tis not so,
With those that go.
Thro* frost and snow,
As all men know.
And carry the milking-pail.

Pisc» Well sung. Good woman ! I thank you. I'll
give you another dish of fish one of tJiese days ; and
tlien beg another song of you. Come, scholar ! lot
Maudlin alone : do not you offer to spoil her voice *.
Look ! yonder comes mine hostess to call us to supper.
How now ! is my brother Peter come ?

Hostess. Yes, and a friend with him. They are
both glad to hear that you are in these parts ; and long
to see you ; and long to be at supper, for they be
very hungry.

* The judgment of the author in this part of the dialogue is well worth
noting. We may observe, that the interlocutors are Piscator and the; Milk-
ivomatiy and that the daughter, except when she sings, and signifies her obe-
dience to her mother in a speech of three luords, is silent. It is pretty clear
that Venator y after the second song — charmed perhaps with the maidenly
innocence, and probably beauty, of the young woman ; for we are told that
j-.he is handsome — offers to kiss her ; and that Piscatory an elder and more
discreet man, checks him, lest he should offend her by too great familiarity.
Such is the decorum observable in this elegant work.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

153

CHAPTER Y.

More Directions how to fsh for, and how to make
for the Trout an Artificial Minnow and Flies ; with
some Merriment.

PiSCATOR.

WELL met, brother Peter ! I heard you and a friend
■would lodge here to-nis^ht : and that hath made me to
bring my friend to lodge here too. My friend is one
that would fiiin be a brother of the angle : he hath been
an angler but this day ; and I have taught him, how to
catch a Chub, bydaping with agrashopper; and the
Chub he caught wns alnsty one of nineteen inches long.
But, pray, brother Prter ! who is your companion ?

Peter, Brother Piscator ! my friend is an honest
countryman, and liis name is Coridon : and he is a
downright wit^y companion, that met me here^ pur-
posely to be pleasant and eat a Trout ; and I have not
wetted my line since we met together : but I hope to fit
him with a Trout for his breakfast ; for V\\ be early up.

Pise. Nay, brother! you shall not stay so long;
for, look you I here Ls a

TIEOnX

^ill fill six reasonable bellies—

154 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

— Come, hostess ! dress it presently ; and get us
what other meat the house will afford ; and give us
some of your best barley-wine, the good liquor that
our honest forefathers did use to drink of; the drink
which preserved their health, and made them live so
long, and to do so many good deeds.

Peter, O'my word ! this Trout is perfect in season.
Come, 1 thank you, and here is a hearty draught to
you, and to all the brothers of the angle wheresoever
they be, and to my young brother's good fortune to-
morrow : I will furnish him with a rod, if you will
furnish him with the rest of the tackling ; we will set
him up and make him a fisher.

And I will tell him one thing for his encouragement,
that his fortune hath made him happy to be scliolar to
3uch a master ; a master that knows as much, both of the
nature and breeding of fish as any man, — and can also
tell him as well, how to catch and cook them, from
the Minnow to the Salmon, as any that I ever met
withal.

Pise, Trust me, brother Peter ! I find my scholar
to be so suitable to my own humour, which is to be free
and pleasant and civilly merry, that ray resolution
is to hide nothing that I know from him. Believe me,
scholar ! this i§ my resolution ; and so here's to you a
hearty draught, and to all that love us and the honest
art of angling.

Ven. Trust me, good master! you shall not sow
your seed in barren ground ; for I hope to return yoii
an increase answerable to your hopes ; but, however,
you shall find me obedient, and thankful, and service-
able to my best ability.

Pise, 'Tis enough, honest scholar ! come, let's to
supper. Come, my friend Coridon, this Trout looks
lovely ; it was twenty-two inches when it was taken ;
and the belly of it looked, some part of it, as yel-
low as a marigold, and, part of it, as white as a
lily ; and yet, methinks, it looks better in this good
sauce.

Cor. Indeed, honest friend! it looks well, and
tastes well ; I thank you for it, and so doth my friend
Peter, or else he is to blame.

CHAP. V. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 155

Peter, Yes, and so I do ; we all thank you ; and,
"when we have supped, I will get my friend Coridon to
sing you a song for requital.

Cor, I will sing a song, if any body will sing ano-
ther : else to be plain with you, I will sing none : I am
none of those that sing for meat, — but, for company: I
say, ^Tis merry in hall^ when men sing all*»

Pise, I'll promise you I'll sing a song that was lately
made, at my request, by Mr. William Basse ; one that
hath made the choice songs of the Hunter in his career
and of To7n of Bedlam t, and many others of note ; and
this that I will sing, is in praise of angling.

Cor, And then mine shall be the praise of a country-
man's life : What will the rest sing of?

Peter, I will promise you, I will sing another song
in praise of Angling to-morrow night ; for we will not
part till then, — but fish, to-morrow, and sup, together :
and the next day every man leave fishing, and fall to his
business.

Ven. 'Tis a match ; and! will provide you a song or
a catch against then, too, which shall give some addi-
tion of mirth to the company ; for we ^vill be civil and
as merry as beggars.

Pise, 'Tis a match, my masters. Let's e'en say
grace, and turn to the fire, drink the other cup to
whet our whistles, and so sing away all sad thoughts.

Come on, my masters ! who begins ? I think it is best
to draw cuts, and avoid contention.

Pet, It is a match. Look ! the shortest cut falls to
Coridon.

* Parody on the adage,

« It's merry in the hall,
* When beards wag alL'

I. e. when all are eating.

+ This song, beginning, « Forth from my dark and dismal cell" — with
the music to it, set by Hen. Lawes — is printed in a book, entitled Choice
Ayres^ Songs^ and Dialogues^ to sing to the Theorbo^ Lute, and Bass
Fiol, folio 1675; and, in Playford's Antidote against Melancholy ^ 8vo.
1669 ; and also in Dr. Percy's Reliques of ancient English Poetry^ Vol. II.
p. 350 ; but in the latter with a mistake, in the last line of the third
stanza, of the word Pentarchy for Pentateush,

K 9

156 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

Cor. Well then ! I will begin, for I hale contention.

CORIDON'S SONG.

Oh the sweet contentment
The countr_yraan doth find !

Heigh trolie lollie loe.

Heigh trolie lollie lee»
That quiet contemplatioa
Possesseth all my mind :

Then^ care away ;

And wend along with me.

For courts are full of flattery^
As hath too oft been tried j

Heigh trolie lollie loe^ Sfc*
The city, full of wantonness ;
And both are full of pride :

Then, care awat^, S^c,

But oh the honest countryman
Speaks truly from his heart :

Heigh trolie lollie loe, S^c,
His pride is in his tillage,
His horses and his cart:

TheUf care awat/f Sfc,

Our cloathing is good sheep-skins ;
Gray russet for, our wives ;

Heigh trolie lollie loe, S^c,
'Tis warmth and not gay cloathing.
That doth prolong our lives:

Then, care away, S^c.

. The ploughman, tho' he labour hard,—
Yet, on the holy-day.

Heigh trolie lollie loe, S^e,
No emperor so merrily
Does pass his time away :

TJfen, care away, 5\«?,

CHAP. ?. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 157

To recompense our tillage,
The heavens afford us showers ;

Heigh trolie lolUe he, &fc.
And, for our sweet refreshments,
The earth affords us bowers :

Then, care away, i^c.

The cuckow and the nightingale.
Full merrily do sing",

Heigh trolie lollie loe, ^c*
And with their pleasant roundelays
Bid welcome to the spring :

Then, care away, ^c.

This is not half the happiness
The countryman enjoys ;

Heigh trolie lollie loe, S^c»
Tho' others think they have as omcby ^
Yet he that says so, lies :

Then come away.

Turn countryman wUh me,

JO. CHALKHILL*.

Pise. Well sung, Coridon! tbis song was sung
with mettle : and it was choicely fitted to the occasion ;
I shall love you for it as long as I know you. I would
you were a brother of the angle ; for a companion that
is cheerful, and free from swearing and scurrilous dis-
course, is worth gold. I love such mirth as does not
make friends ashamed to look upon one another next
morning,^— nor, men that cannot well bear it, to repent
the money they spend when they be warmed with drink.
And take this for a rule, you may pick out such times
and such companies, that you may make yourselves
merrier for a little than a great deal of money ; for
^' 'Tisthe company and not the charge that makes the
^' feast," — and such a companion you prove i I thank
you for it.

But I will not compliment you out of the debt that I
owe you, and therefore I will begin my song j and wish
it may be so well liked,

* Join Cbalkbill^ Eiq. of whom mention ii made in the Authpr's J^ifo.

S3

15S THE COMPLETE ANGLER, PART I.

THE ANGLER'S SONG.

As inward love breeds outward talk,—
The hound some praise ; and some the hawk ;
Some, better pleas'd with private sport,
Use tennis ; some a mistress court :

But these delights I neither wish,
Nor envy, — while I freely fish.

Who hunts, doth oft in danger ride;

Who hawks, lures oft both far and wide ;

Who uses games, shall often prove

A loser ; but who falls in love,

Is fetter'd in fond Cupid's snare :
My angle lireeds me no such care»

Of recreation there is none
So free as fishing, is, alone ;
All ether pastimes, do no less
Than mind and body, both, possess :

My hand alone my work can do j

So, I can fish and study too.

I care not, T> to fish in seas ;

Fresh rivers best my mind do please ;

Whose sweet calm course I contemplate,

And seek in life to imitate i

In civil bounds I fain would keep.
And for my past ofieuces weep.

And when the timVous Trout I wait
To take ; and he devours my bait.
How poor a thing, sometimes I find.
Will captivate a greedy mind :

And when none bite, I praise the wise,
Whom vain alluremepts ne'er surprise.

But yet, tho' while I fish I fast,
I make good fortune my repast j
And thereunto my friend invite, —
in whom I more than that delight, —
Who is more welcome to my dish.
Than to my angle was my fisht

CHAP. V. THE COMPLETE ANGLER.. 139

As well content, no prize to take.
As use of taken prize to make ;
For so our Lord was pleased, when
He fishers made fishers of men ;

Where, which is in no other game,

A man may fish and praise his name.

The first men that our Saviour dear
Did choose to wait upon him here,
Blest fishers were ; and fish the last
Food was, that he on earth did taste :

I therefore strive to follow those.

Whom he to follow him hath chose.

Cor. Well sung, brother ! you have paid your debt
in good coin. We anglers are all beholden to the good
man that made this song : come, hostess! give us more
ale : and let's drink to him.

And now let's every one go to bed, that we may rise
early : but first let's pay our reckoning, for I will have
nothing to hinder me in the morning ; for my purpose
is to prevent the sun-rising.

Pet. A match. Come, Coridon ! you are ta be my
bed-fellow. I know, brother ! you and your scholar
will lie together. But where shall we meet to-morrow
night ? for my friend Coridon and I will go up the wa-
ter towards Ware.

Plsc. And my scholar and I will go down towards
Waltham.

Cor. Then let's meet here ; for here are fresh sheets
that smell of lavender ; and I am sure we cannot expect
better meat, or better usage in any place »

Pet. 'Tis a match. Good-night to every body.

Pise. And so say 1,

Ven. AikI so say I. '

Pise. Good morrow, good hostess ! I see my brother
Peter is still in bed : Come, give my scholar and me a
morning drink, and a bit of meat to breakfast ; And be
sure to get a dish of meat or two against supper, for we
shall come home as hungry as hawks. Come, scholar,
let's be going.

Ven. Well now; good mastqr I as we walk towards
K 4

16^ THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

And note. That when the knot, which is near to
the middle of the brandling, begins to swell, then
he is sick ; and, if be be not well looked to^ is near
dying. And for moss, you are to note, Tliat there
be divers kinds of it*, which I could name to you;
but will only tell you, that that which is likest a
buck's-horn is the best, — except it be soft white moss,
which grows on some heaths, and is hard to be
found. And note. That, in a very dry time, when
you are put to an extremity for worms, — walnut-
tree leaves squeezed into water, or salt in water ; to
make it bitter, or salt; and, then, that water poured
on the ground where, you shall see, worms are used
to rise in the night, will make them to appear above
ground presently +. And you may take notice. Some
say that camphire put into your bag with your moss
and worms, gives them a strong and so tempting a

wet It in the liquor wherein beef has been boiled, — but be careful that
the beef is fresh, for salt will kill the worms; and wring it, but not quite
dry ; put the worms into this cloth, and lay them in an earthen pot, and
let them stand from morning till night, —then take the worms from
the cloth and wash it, and wet it again in some of the liquor : do thus
once a day, and you may keep worms in perfect health, and fit for use,
for near a month.

Observe that the lob-worm, marsh-worm, and red-worm, will bear
more scouring than any others, and are better for long keeping.

* Naturalists reckon above two hundred.

f This practice was one of the common sports of school-boys, at
the time Erasmus wrote his Colloquies. In that entitled Fenatio^ or
Huntings — a company of them go abroad into the fields, and one named
Laurence proposes fishing ; but having no worms, Bartholus objects the
want of them, till Laurence tells him how he may get some. The dialogue
is very natural and descriptive, and being but short, is here given —
•* Lau. I should like to go a fishing ; I have a neat hook, Barth. But
** where will you get baits ? Lau. There are earth-worms every where
** to be had. Barth. So there are, if they would but creep out of
** the ground to you. Lau. I will make a great many thousands
*♦ jump out presently. Barth. How ? by witchcraft ? Lau. You shall
*' see the art. Fill this bucket with water ; break these green shells
*' of walnuts to pieces, and put them into it ; wet the ground with the
** water: Now mind a little ; Do you see them coming out? Barth »
** I see a miracle ; I believe the armed men started out of the earth
•' after this manner, from the serpent's teeth that were sown."

The above exclamation is clearly an allusion to the fable in the
second book of Ovid's Metamorphoses ; where Cadmus, by scattering
the serpent's teeth on the ground, causes armed men to spring out
pf it.

CHAP. V, THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 163

smell, tbat the fish fare the worse, and you tlic better
for it.

And now I shall shew you. How to bait your hook
with a worm — so, as shall prevent you from much
trouble, and the loss of many a hook, too — when you
fish for a Trout with a running line * ; that is to
say, when you iish for him by hand at the ground.
I will direct you in this as plainly as I can, that you
may not mistake.

Suppose it be a big lob-worm ; — Put your hook into
him somewhat above the middle, and out again a little
below the middle : having so done, draw your worm
above the arming of your hook; but note, That, at
the entering of your hook, it must not be at the head-
end of the worm, but at the tail-end of him, that tlie
point of your hook may come out toward the head-end;
and, having drawn him above the arming of your hook,
then put the point of your hook, again, into the very
head of the worm, till it come near to the place where
the point of the hook first came out ; and then draw-
back that part of the worm that was above the shank or
arming of your hook, and so fish with it. And if
you mean to fish with two worms, — then put the
second on, before you turn-back the hook's-head of
the first worm. You cannot lose above two or three
worms, before you attain to what I direct you ; and
having attained it, you will find it very useful, and
thank me for it, — for you will run on the ground
without tangling.

Now for the Minnow or Penk : He is not easily
found and caught till March, or in Aprils for then

* The ruftning-li/ie, so called because it runs along the ground, is
made of strong silk, which you may buy at the fishing-tackle shops :
but I prefer hair, as being less apt to tangle, and is thus fitted up.
About ten inches from the end, fasten a small cleft shot ; then make
a hole through a pistol, or musket, bullet according to the swiftness
of the stream you fish in ; and put the line through it, and draw
the bullet down to the shot : to the end of your line fasten an Indian
grass, or silk- worm-gut, with a large hook : Or you may, instead of
a bullet, fix four large shot, at the distance of eight inches from the
hook. The running-line is used for Trout, GrayUng, and Salmon-smelts;
^nd is proper only for streams and rapid waters. See Part II. Chap. XI.

164 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

he appears first in the river ; nature having taught
|jim to shelter and hide himself, in the Winter, in
ditches that be near to the river, — and there both
to hide, and keep himself warm, in the mud, or in
the weeds which rot not so soon as in a running
river — in which place if he were in Winter^ the dis-
tempered floods that are usually in that season would
suffer liim to take no rest, but carry him headlong to
mills and wears, to his confusion. And of these min-
nows : First, you are to know, That the biggest size
is not the best; and, next, That the middle size and
the whitest are the best : and, then, you are to know,
That your minnow must be so put on your hook, that
it must turn round when 'tis drawn against the stream ;
and, that it may turn nimbly, you must put it on a
big-sized hook,— as I shall now direct you, which is
thus: Put your hook in at his mouth, and out of his
gill ; then, having drawn your hook two or three inches
beyond or through his gill, put it again into his mouth,
and the point and beard out at his tail ; and then tic
the hook and his tail about, very neatly, with a white
thread, — which will make it the apter to turn quick
in the water : that done, pull back that part of your
line which was slack when you did put your hook into
the minnow the second time, — 1 say, pull that part of
your line back, so that it shall fasten the head, so, that
the body of the minnow shall be almost strait on your
hook : This done, try how it will turn, by drawing
it across the water or against a stream ; and if it do not
turn nimbly,- — ^then turn the tail a little to the right
or left hand, and try again till it turn quick ; for if not,
you are in danger to catch nothing,— -for know, that it
is impossible that it should turri too quick. And you
are, yet, to know, That in case you want a minnow,—
then a small loach, or a stickle-bag, or any other small
fish that will turn quick, will serve as well. And you
are yet to know. That you may salt them, and by that
means keep them ready and fit for use tliree or four
days, or longer ; and that, of salt, bay-salt is the best.
And, here, let me tell you, what many old anglers
know right well, That at some times, and in some

CHAP.V. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 165

waters, a minnow is not to be ^ot ; and therefore
(let me tell you,) I have, which I will shew to
you, an artificial minnow, that will catch a Trout
as well as an artificial fly: and it was made by
a handsome woman that had a fine hand, and a
live minnow lying by her : the mould or body of the
minnow was cloth, — and wrought upon, or over it, thus
with a needle,— the back of it with very sad French
green silk, and paler green silk towards the belly, sha-
dowed as perfectly as you can imagine, just as you see
a minnow : the belly was wrought also with a needle,
and it was a part of it, white silk ; and another part
of it with silver thread : the tail and fins were of a quill, >■
which was shaven thin : the eyes were of two little
black beads : and the head was so shadowed, — and
all of it so curiously wrought, and so exactly dis-
sembled,— that it would beguile any sharp-sighted
Trout in a swift stream. And this minnow I will
now shew you ; look ! here it is ; and if you like
it, lend it you, to have two or three made by it ; for
they be easily carried about an angler ; and be of ex-
cellent use,— for note, That a large Trout will
come as fiercely at a minnow, as the highest mettled
haNvk doth seize on a partTidge, or a grey-hound oa
a hare. I have been told that 160 minnows have
been found in a Trout's belly ; either the Trout had
devoured so many, or the miller that gave it a friend
of mine had forced them down his throat after he had
taken him.

Now for flies; which is the third bait wherewith
Trouts are usually taken. You are to know, that
there are so many sorts of flies as there be of fruits :
I will name you but some of them ; as the dun-fly, the
stone-fly, the red-fly, the moor-fly, the tawney-fly,
the shell-fly, the cloudy or blackish-fly, the flag-fly,
the vine-fly : there be — of flies— caterpillars, and can-
ker-flies, and bear-flies ; and indeed too many either fc*
me to name, or for you to remember. And their breed-
ing is so various and wonderful, that I, might easily
amaze myself, and tire you in a relation of them.
And, yet, I will exercise your promised patience by

166 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

saying a little of the caterpillar, or the palrner-fly or
worm ; that by them you may guess what a work it
were, in a discourse, but to run over those very many
flies, worms, and little living creatures, with which the
sun and summer adorn and beautify the river-banks,
and meadows ; both for the recreation and contem-
plation of us anglers, — pleasures which, I think, my-
self enjoy more than any other man that is not of my
profession .

Pliny holds an opinion, that many have their birth,
or being, from a dew that in the spring falls upon the
leaves of trees ; and that some kinds of them, are from
a dew left upon herbs or flowers ; and others, from a
dew left upon coleworts or cabbages : All which kinds
of dews being thickened and condensed, are by the sun's
generative heat, most of them, hatched,*— and, in three
days, made ^living creatures*: and these of several
shapes and colours ; some being hard and tough, some
smooth and soft ; some are horned in their head, — some in
their tail, some have none ; some have hair, some none;

some have sixteen feet, some less and some
of sL^ms!'^ ^^ave none,— but, (as our Topsel hath , with

great diligence, observed,) those which have
none, move upon the earth, or upon broad leaves, their
motion being not unlike to the waves of the sea. Some
of them, he also observes to be bred of the eggs of other
caterpillars, and that those in their time turn to be but-
terflies ; and, again, that their eggs turn the fgllowing
year to be caterpillars +. And some affirm, that every
plant has its particular fly or caterpillar, which it breeds
and feeds. I have seen, and may therefore affirm it, a
green caterpillar, or worm, as big as a small peascod,
which had fourteen legs, eight on the belly, four under
the neck, and two near the tail. It was found on a hedge

* The doctrine of spontaneous or equivocal generation is now univer-
sally exploded ; and all th.Q fhanomena that seem to support it, are account-
ed for on other principles. See Derham's Phys. TLeol. Chap. 15, and the
aathorlties there cited. As also Mr. Ray's IVisdcm of God manifested in tie
tvorks of the Creation^ 298. and Franc. Redi, De Gen> Insect.

f Whoever is desirous of knowing more of Caterpillars, and of the
teveral flies produced by them, may consult Joannes Goedartius De
lasedisf with the Appendix of Dr, Lister, Lond, 8vo. 1685.

CHAP. V, tHE COMPLETE ANGLER. l&f

of privet, and was taken tliencc, and put into a large
box, and a little branch or two of privet put to it, on
which I saw it feed as sliarply as a dog gnaws a bone ;
it lived, thus, five or six days, — and thrived, and
changed the colour two or three times, — but by some
neglect in the keeper of it, it then died and did not turn
to a fly : but if it liad lived, it had doubtless turned to
one of those flies that some c?Ll\Jlies of prey, which
those that walk by the rivers may, in Summer, see fasten
on smaller flies, and I think, make them their food.
And it is observable, that as there be these Flies of prey,
which be very large ; so there be others, very little, —
created, I think, only to feed them, and breed out of I
know not what ; whose life, they say, nature intended
not to exceed an hour *,— and yet that life is, thus,
made shorter by other flies, or by accident.

* That there are creatures "whose life nature intended not to exceed
" an hour," is, I believe, not so well agreed, as that there are some whose
existence is determined in five or six. It is well known that the Ephe-
meron, that wonderful instance of the care and providence of God, lives
but from six in the evening till about eleven at night ; during which time
it performs all the animal functions; for, in the beginning of its life, it
sheds its coat ; and that being done, and the poor little animal thereby
rendered light and agile, it spends the rest of its short time in frisking over
the waters; the female drops her eggs, which are impregnated by the
male ; these, being spread about, descend to the bottom by their own gra-
vity, and are hatched by the warmth of the sun into little worms, which
make themselves cases in the clay, and feed on the same without any
need of parental care. Fide Ephem. Vita, translated by Dr. Tyson, from
Swammerdam. See also Derham's Phys. TheoL 247.

And to the truth of the assertion, that these short-lived animals shed
their coats, I myself am a witness ; for, being a fishing one summer even-
ing,— at about seven o'clock, I suddenly observed my cloaths covered with
a number of very small flies, of a whitish colour, inclining to blue ; they
continued fixed, while I observed those on my left arm wriggle their bo-
dies about, till, at length, they disengaged themselves from their externa!
coat, which they left, and flew away ; but what greatly astonished me
was, that three whisks which each of these creatures had at its tail —
which were slenderer than the finest hair, and, but for their whiteness,
would have been scarcely perceptible— were left as entire and unbroken
as the less tender parts of the coat.

At the time when I was preparing for the press the first edition of this
book, I met — in a book entitled. The Art of Anglinct improved in allits parts^
especially Fly-fsbing, 1 2mo. Worcester, no date, by Richard Bowlker — with.
a relation similar to this ; which the Author says was communicated to
him by a gentleman, an accurate observer of nature's productions ; and
giving credit to the assertion, I inserted it as an extract from his book ; but
Ihave sincd Recovered, that the same had been communicated — to the

168 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART 1.

It is endless to tell you, what the curious searchers
into nature's productions have observed of these worms

Royal Society by Mr. Peter CoUinson, a London tradesman, well known
among botanists and collectors of natural curiosities — in a Letter to their
secretary, which was read the 21st of "January^ 1744-5, and is printed in
the Philosophical Transactions for the year 1746, Numb. 481, page 329.

The letter is miserably written ; and, in respect of the style, so un-
grammatical, and otherwise obscure, as to need such interpolations as are
here inserted to render it in any degree intelligible.

The Author, walking by the side of the river at Winchester, May 26,
1744, was shewn the May-fly, [conjectured to be the musca tripilis men-
tioned in Moufet, Insect. Theatr. p. 64. and is questionless the grey drake,]
which (he says) lies, all the year but [except] a few days, in the bottom
or sides of the river, [we must suppose in its nymphatic state, like the ca-
dis, straw-worm, and other species of the //^f //a;] and rising, when ma-
ture, to the surface of the water, splits its case, and appears an animal ; [a
fly he must mean ;] having a slender body, and three long hairs at the tail,
and four blackish veined transparent shining wings, the under much the
smaller, and the upper having four black spots. He says, that having dis-
engaged itself from its exuvia, [i. e. the case above-mentioned,] of which,
he adds, he saw innumerable floating on the water,— the next business of
this creature is flying about to find a proper place to fix on, as trees, rushes,
t^c. ; and that having fixed, it waits for another change, which in two or
three days is completed, and which he thus describes :

" The first hint I received of this wonderful operation, [/. e. the second
** transformation,] I took from the appearance of their exuvia [he must
*' here mean their second exwuia hereafter mentioned] hanging on the
«* hedgei5. Of these, [not the exwvia but the flies,] I collected many, and
*' putting them into boxes, could easily discover when they were ready to
« put off" their old cloaths, though so lately put on."

He says, he had the pleasure to shew his friends one of these creature*
that he held on his finger all the while it performed this great work ; and
that it was surprising to see the back part of the fly split open, and pro-
duce a new birth, [/. e. a new fly,] which left the case of the head, body,
wings, legs, and even the three-haired tail [of the old one] behind it. He
adds, that after it had reposed itself awhile, it flew abroad with great
briskness to seek a mate.

After an enumeration of some particulars, which I choose to omit, — he
says, he observed that when the females were impregnated, they left the
males, and betook themselves to the river ; where darting up and down,
they were seen to eject a cluster of eggs, which seemed a pale bluish
speck, like a small drop of milk, as they [the specks] were sinking to
the bottom of the river; and that, then, [when the flies had thus
ejected their eggs,] by the elasticity of their tails they sprung up, and
darted down again, continuing so to do, till having exhausted their stock
of eggs, together with their strength, they were able to rise no more, and
become an easy prey to the fish. This is the end of the females ; but of
the males he says, that they never resort to the waters, but after they
have done their oflice, drop down, languish, and die among the trees and
bushes.

The conclusion of his letter, for I am tired of abridging it, 1 give in the
author's own words. *• They appear at six o'clock in the evening. Ob

CHAF. V. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 169

and flies : but yet I shall tell you what Aldrovandus*,
our Topsel, and others, say of the Palmer-worm, or
Caterpillar : That whereas others content themselves to
feed on particular herbs or leaves ; (for most think,
those very leaves that gave them life and shape, give
them a particular feeding and nourishment, and that
upon them they usually abide ;) yet he observes^
that this is called a pilgrim, or palmer- worm, for his
very wandering life, and various food, — not contenting
himself, as others do, with any one certain place for his
abode, nor any certain kind of herb or flower for his
feeding ; but will boldly and disorderly wander up and
down, and not endure to be kept to a diet, or fixt to a
particular diet.

Nay, the very colours of caterpillars are, as one has
observed, very elegant and beautiful. I shall, for a
taste of the rest, describe one of them ; which I will,
some time the next month,shew y oufeeding on awillow-
tree, — and you shall find him punctually to answer this
description: his lips and mouth somewhat yellow ; his
eyes black as jet ; his forehead purple ; his feet and
hinder parts green ; his tail two-forked and black ; the
whole body stained with a kind of red spots, which
run along the neck and shoulder-blade, not unlike
the form of St. Andrew^s cross, or the letter X, made
thus cross-wise, and a white line drawn down his back
to his tail ; all which add much beauty to his whole
body. And it is to me observable, That at a fixed age,
this caterpillar gives over to cat; and, towards Winter,
comes to be covered over with a strange shell or crust

«' the 26th of May I perceived a few ; but the 27th, 28th, 29th, and 30th,
" it was a sight very surprising and entertaining, to see the rivers teeming
*' with innumerable pretty nimble flying animals, and almost everything
** near covered with them; when I looked up, the air was full of them as
" high as I could discern, — and seemed so thick, and always in motion ;
*« [the air he tells you, but he means the flies ;] the like it seems when one
*' looks up, and sees the snow coming down. And yet this wonderful
*' appearance, in three or four days after the last of May, totally disap-
" peared."

* Ulysses AlJrova/tduSf a great physician and naturalist of Bologna : h^
wrote 120 books on several sttbjects, and a treatise De Pisetbust published
at Franckfort, \Q40.

170 THE COMPLETE ANGLER, TART I.

called an Aurelia ; aud so lives a kind of dead life,
Viezv Sir Fra '^vltliout eating, all tlic Winter: And as
Bacons Exper. others of several kinds turn to be several
728 b; 90, in kinds of flies and vermin, the Spring fol-
his Nat. Hist, lo^ij^g . so tijig caterpillar, then, turns to
be a painted butterfly.

Come, come, my scholar, you see the river stops our
morning walk : and I will also here stop my discourse,
— only as we sit down under this honeysuckle hedge,
whilst I look a line to fit the rod that our brother Peter
hath lent you, I shall, for a little confirmation of what
I have said, repeat the observation of Du Bartas :

6. Day of God — not contented to each kind to give,
Du Bartas. ^^^j ^^ infuse, the virtue generative—

By his wise power made many creatures breed.

Of lifeless bodies, without A'^enns' deed.

So the Cold Humour breeds the Salamander ;
Who, in effect like to her birth's commander,
With child with hundred winters, with her touch
Quencheth the fire tho' glowing ne'er so much.

So in the fire, in burning furnace, springs
The fly Perausla with the flaming wings :
Without the fire it dies; in it, it joys,
liiving in that which all things else destroys.

M^ f'*^^* ^° ^^°^ Boe/es underneath him sees,
Camdenr'^ .In th' icy islands, goslings hatch 'd of tree; ;
Whose fruitful leaves falling into the water.
Are turn'd, *tis known, to living fowls soon after.

So rotten planks of broken ships do change
To barnacles. O transformation strange !
'Twas first a green tree ; then, a broken hull ;
Lately, a mushroom , now, a flying gull,

Ven. O my good master, this morning- walk has
been spent to my great pleasure and wonder : but I
pray, when shall I have your direction — how to make

•HAP. V. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 171

artificial flies, like to those that the Trout loves best;
and, also, how to use them ?

Pise. My honest scholar, it is now past five of the
clock : we will fish till nine ; and then go to breakfast.
Go you to yon sycamore-tree, and hide your bottle
of drink under the hollow root of it ; for about that
time, and in that place, we will make a brave breakfast
with a piece of powdered beef, and a radish or two
that I have in my fish-bag ; we shall, I warrant you,
make a good, honest, wholesome, hungry breakfast.
And I will, then, give you direction for the making
and using of your flies : and in the mean time, there
is your rod and line, and my advice is, that you fish
as you see me do, and let's try which can catch the
first fish.

Ven, I thank you, master! I will observe and
practise your direction as far as I am able.

Pise. Look you, scliolar ! you see I have hold of a
good fish : I now see it is a Trout : I pray, put that
net under him ; and touch not my line, for if you do,
then we break all. Well done, scholar ! I thank you.

Now, for another. Trust me, I have another bite :
Come, scholar, come lay down /our rod, and help me
to land this as you did the other. So, now, we shall
be sure to have a good dish of fish for supper.

Ven. I am glad of that ; but I have no fortune ;
sure, master ! yours is a better rod and better tackling,

PisC' Nay, then, take mine ; and 1 will fish with
yours. Look you, scholar \ 1 have another. Come,
do as you did before. And now I have a bite at an-
other. Oh me ! he has broke all ; there's half a line
and a good hook lost.

Ven. Ay, and a good Trout too.

Pise. Nay, the Trout is not lost ; for, pray ! take
notice, no man can loose what he never had.

Ven. Master ! I can neither catch with the first
nor second angle : I have no fortune.

Pisc» Look you, scholar ! I have yet another.
And, now, having caught three brace of Trouts, I will
tell you a short tale as we walk towards our breakfast :
A scholar, a preacher I should sav, that was to preacU

L 2

172 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PARTI.

to procure the approbation of a parish that he might
be their lecturer, had got from his fellow pupil the
copy of a sermon that was first preached with great
commendation by him that composed it : and though
the borrower of it preached it, word for word as it was
at first ; yet it was utterly disliked, as it was preached
by the second to his congregation — which the sermon-
borrower complained of to the lender of it : and was
thus answered : " I lent you, indeed, my fiddle, but
^^ not my fiddle stick ; for you are to know, that every
*' one cannot make musick with my words, which are
^' fitted to my own mouth." And so, ray scholar, you
are to know. That as the ill pronunciation or ill ac-
centing of words in a sermon spoils it, so the ill car-
riage of your line, or not fishing even to a foot in a
right place, makes you lose your labour : and you are
to know, That*thougli you have my fiddle, that is,
my very rod and tacklings with which you see I catch
fish, — yet you have not my fiddle-stick, that is, you
yet have not skill to know how to carry your hand and
line, or how to guide it to a right place ; — and this
must be taught you ; . for you are to remember, I told
you, Angling is an art, either by practice or a lonff ob-
servation, or both. But take this for a rule, V^hen
you fish for a Trout, with a worm, — let your line have
so much, and not more lead than will fit the stream in
which you fish : that is to say, more in a great, trou-
blesome stream than in a smaller that is quieter ; as near
as may be, so much as w ill sink the bait to the bottom,
and keep it still in motion, and not more.

But now let's say grace, and fall to breakfast. What
say you, scholar, to the providence of an old angler ?
does not this meat taste well ? and was not this place
well chosen to eat it ? for this sycamore tree will shade
us from the sun's heat.

Ven. All excellent good; and my stomach ex-
cellent good ; too. And now I remember and find
that true which devout Lessius* says, '^ that poor

* Leonard Lessius, a very learned Jesuit, professor of divinity in
the college of Jesuits at Louvain; he was born at Antwerp, 1554!

Frinrcii tcr S.2ia.aster Strand li^oS.

jiiuUntt seulp.

CHAP. V. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 173

^^ men, and those that fast often, have much more
'' pleasure in eating than rich men, and gluttons,
'' that always feed before their stomachs are empty
^' of their last meat and call for more ; for by that
" means, they rob themselves of that pleasure that
hunger brings to poor men." And I do seriously
approve of that saying of yours, '' that you had
^' rather be a civil, well-governed, well-grounded,
" temperate, poor angler, than a drunken lord :*'
But I hope there is none sucli. How ever I am cer-
tain of this that I have been at many very costly
dinners that have not afforded me half the content
that this has done ; for which I thank God and
you.

And now, good master ! proceed to your promised
direction for making and ordering my artificial fly.

Pise. My honest scholar, I will do it ; for it is a
debt due unto you by my promise. And because
you shall not think yourself more engaged to me than
indeed you really are, — I will freely give you such
directions as were lately given tome by an ingenious
brother of the angle, an honest man, and a most
excellent ily-fisher.

You are to note, That there are twelve kinds of
artijicial made-Jlies^ to angle with upon the top of
the water. Note, by the way. That the fittest season
of using these, is a blustering windy day, when the
waters are so troubled that the natural fly cannot be
seen, or rest upon them. The first is the dun-
fly, in March : the body is made of dun-wool ;
the wings of the partridge's feathers. The second
is another dun*fly: the body, of black wool;
and the wings made of the black drake's feathers,
and of the feathers under his tail. The third i^
the stone-fly, in April : the body is made of black

and became very famous for his skill in divinity, civil law, mathe-
maticks, physick, and history : he wrote several theological tracts, and
a book entitled, Hygiast'tcorty seu vtra ratio valetudinis bona, S^ vita
ad txtremam senectutcm conser'uanda. See Walton's Life prefixed. Froni
this tract of Lessius, it is probable the passage in the text i» citedL
He died 1623.

I, 3

174 THE COMPLETE ANGLER PART I.

wool; made yellow under the wings, and under the
tail, and so made with wings of the drake. The
FOURTH is the ruddy-fly, in the beginning oi May :
the body made of red- wool, wrapt about with black
silk ; and the feathers are the wings of the drake ;
with the feathers of a red capon, also, which hang
dangling on his sides next to the tail. The fifth
is the yellow or greenish fly, in May likewise ; the
body made of yellow wool ; and the wings made of
the red cock's hackle, or tail. The sixth is the
black-fly, in May also : the body made of black
wool, and lapt about with the herle of a peacock's
tail; the wings are made of the wings of a brown
capon, with his blue feathers in his head. The se-
venth is the sad yellow-fly in June : the body is made
of black wool, with a yellow list on either side ; and
the wings taken off" the wings of a buzzard, bound
with black braked hemp. The eighth is the
moorish-fly ; made, with the body, of duskish wool ;
and the wings made of the blackish mail of the
drake. The ninth is the tawny-fly, good until the
middle of June ; the body made of tawny wool ; the
"wings made contrary one against the other, made
of the whitish mail of the wild drake. The tenth
is the wasp-fly in July : the body made of black
wool, lapt about with yellow silk ; the wings made
of the feathers of the drake, or of the buzzard. The
eleventh is the shell-fly, good in mid-July : the
body made of greenish wool, lapt about with the
herle of a peacock's tail : and the wings made of
the wings of the buzzard. The twelfth is the
dark drake-fly, good in August: the body made
with black wool, lapt abouf with black silk ; his
wings are made with the mail of the black drake,
with a black head. Thus have you a jury of flies
likely to betray and condemn all the Trouts in the
river*.

* It has been already observed, that Walton's excellence as an
angler, did not consist in fly-fishing : the reader is, therefore, recom-
mended to the List of Flits in the second fart^ and the Additifis contaiuei
in the Nttes thereoH»

CHAP* V. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 175

I shall next give you some other directions for
fly-fishing, such as are given by Mr. Thomas Barker*^

* It is supposed that the reader is by this tiivie not wholly ignorant
who this gentleman was, as mention is made of him in the Author**
Life. We have already given given the Dedication to his Art of Angling ;
and here now follow some extracts from that humorous piece, itself.
Addressing himself to the noble lord to whom hi» book is dedicated,
he thus begins:

" Under favour, I will compliment, and put a case to your
** honour. I met with a man ; and upon our discourse he fell out
♦* with me, having a good weapon, but neither stomach nor skill : I say
*' t/jis man may come home hy Weeping-cross ; I v/ill cause the clerk to toll bis
*' knell. It is the very like case to the gentleman angler, that goeth
" to the river for his pleasure: This angler hath neither judgment
" nor experience : he may come home lightly laden at his leisure

" A man that goeth to the river for his pleasure : must understand,
" when he cometh there, to set forth his tackle. The first thisg he
*' must do, is to observe the 7f?Wand sun for day, the moon^ the stars.,
*' and the wanes of the air for NIGH r, to set forth his tackles for day
" or night ; and accordingly to go for his pleasure, and some profit.

" Now I am determined to angle with ground-baits, and set
" my tackles to my rod, and go to my pleasure. 1 begin at the upper-
" most part of the stream, carrying my line with an upright hand,
*' feeling my plummet running truly on the ground some ten inches
" from the hook, plumming my line according to the swiftness of
" the stream I angle in ; for one plummet will not serve for all
" streams; for the true angling is, that the plummet run truly on
** the ground.

" My lord sent to me, at sun-going-down to provide him a
" good dish of Trouts against the next morning, by six o'clock. I
'• went to the door to see hoiv the ivanes of the aif ivere like to prove.
" I returned answer, that I doubted not, God willing, but to be provided
" at the time appointed. I went presently to the river, and it proved
" very dark : I threw out a line — of three silks and three hairs twisted
" for the uppermost part; and a line of two hairs and two silks
*' twisted, for the loiver part — with a good large hook. 1 baited my
•' hook with two lob-worms, the four ends hanging as meet as I could
" guess them in the dark. I fell to angle. It proved very dark, so that
" I had good sport ; angling with the lob-worms as I do with the flies,
" on the top of the water : You shall hear the fish rise at the top of the
" water ; then, you must loose a slack line down to the bottom, as nigh
" as you can guess ,• then hold your line strait, feeling the fish bite ;
" give time, there is no doubt of losing the fish, for there is not
" one amongst twenty but doth gorge the bait— the least stroke you
" can strike fastens the hook, and makes the fish sure, letting the
" fish take a turn or two ; you may take him up with your hands.
" The night began to alter and grow somewhat lighter ; I took off
*• the lob-worms, and set to my rod a white palmer-fly, made of a
" large hook ; I had good sport for the time, until it grew Ughter ; so I
" took off" the white palmer, and set to a red palmer, piade of a large hook ^
" I had good sport until it grew very light : then I took oft' the red
" palmer, and set to a black palmer ; I had good sport and madt iq>

L 4

176 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART T.

a gentleman that hath spent much time in fishing :
but I shall do it with a little variation.

First, let your rod be light, and very gentle : I
take the best to be of two pieces*. And let not your
line exceed — especially for three or four links next
to the hook ; I say, not exceed — three or four hairs
at the most ; though you may fish a little stronger^
above, in the upper part of your line : But if you
can attain to angle with one hair, — you shall have
more rises, and catch more fish. Now you must be
sure not to cumber yourself with too long a line ;
as most do. And before you begin to angle, cast
to have the wind on your back ; and the sun, if it
shines, to be before you ; and to fish down the stream ;
and carry the point or top of your rod downward,
by which means the shadow of yourself, and rod too,
will be the least offensive to the fish, — for the sight
of any shade amazes the fish, and spoils your sport,
of which you must take great care.

In the middle ofMarchy till which time a man should

** the dish of fish. So I put up my tackles, and was with my lord
** at his time appointed for the service.

*' These three flies with the help of the lob-worms, serve to angle all the
" year for the night ; observing the times — as I have shewed you— in this
" night-work the white fly for darkness, and the red fly in medich, and the
** black fly for lightness. This is the true experience for angling in the
** night ; which is the surest angling of all, and killeth the greatest Trouts.
" Your lines may be strong, but must not be longer than yoiir rod;

" Now, having taken a good dish of Trouts, I presented them to my
*• lord. He having provided good company, commanded me to turn
<* cook, and dress them for dinner,

" There comes an honest gentleman, a familiar friend, to me —
•• he was an angler — begins to compliment with me, and asked me
*« how 1 did ? when I had been angling ? and demanded, in discourse,
»* what was the reason I did not relate in my book the dressing of
" hU dish of Jisht which he loved? I pray you, Sir^ ivbat dish of Trouts
*' ivas that ? He said, it was a dish of close-boiled Trouts, buttered
« with eggs. My answer was to him, that every scullion drtsseth that dish
** against his ivill, because he cannot calvor them, I will tell you, in short,
*^ Put your Trouts into the kettle when the kettle is set to the fire,
" and let them boil gently, as many cooks do; and they shall boil
« close enough ; which is a good dish, buttered with eggs, good for
« ploughmen, but not for the palate. Sir, / hope J have given you
** satisfaction "

* For your Rod, and also for a Fly-line^ take the. direction* contained'
jh the Nottf on Chap. XXI.

CilAP. Y. THE COMPLETE VNGLEH^ 177

not in honesty catch a trout — or in April, if the weather
be dark, or a little windy or cloudy — the best fish-
ing is with the palmer worm, of which
I last spoke to you; but of these there Mte/>agei69i
be divers kinds, or at least of divers
colours : these and the may-fly are the ground of
all fly-angling : which are to be thus made :

Firstj you must arm your hook with the line, in the
inside of it : then take your scissars, and cut so much
of a brown mallard's feather as, in your own reason,
will make the wings* of it-, — you having, withal, re-
gard to the bigness or littleness of your hook : then
lay the outmost part of your feather next to your
hook ; then, the point of your feather next the shank
of your hook, — and having so done, whip it three or
four times about the hook with the same silk with
which your hook was armed ; and having made the
silk fast, take the hackle of a cock [cock's] or capon '^s
Beck, — or, a plover's top which is usually better, —
take off the one side of the feather, and then take the
hackle, [and whip it three or four times round with]
silk, or crewel, gold or silver thread ; make these fast
at the bent of the hook, that is to say, below your
erming ; then you must take the hackle, the silver or
gold thread, and work it up to the wings, — shifting or
still removing your finger, as you turn the silk about
the hook, — and still looking, at every stop or turn,
that your gold, or what m.aterials soever you make
your fly of, do lie right and neatly ; and if you find
they do so, then when you have made the head, make
all fast .-and then work your hackle up to the head,
and make that fast : and then, with a needle or pin^
divide the wing into two ; and then, with the arming
silk, whip it about cross-ways betwixt the wings ; and
then with your thumb you must turn the poiutofthe
feather towards the bent of the hook ? and then work
three or four times about the shank of the hook ; and
then view the proportion ; and if all be neat, and to
your liking, fasten.

♦ See Part II. Chap. VII. fly for Feiruary^ 8. n.-^Walton give* direc-
tion! for making the Max-fly hfra^

178 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PARTI-

I confess, no direction can be given to make a man
of a (lull capacity able to make a fly well : and yet I
know, thisy with a little practice^ will help an in-
genious angler in a good degree. But to see a fly
made by an artist in that kind, is the best teaching to
make it. And, then, an ingenious angler may walk
by the river, and mark what flies fall on the water that
day ; and catch one of Ihem, if he sees the i'routs leap
at a fly of tha<ykind and then — (having always hooks
ready hung with him) r and having a bag also always
with him ; with bear's hair, or the hair of a brown or
sad-coloured heifer ; hackles of a cock or capon ;
several coloured silk and crewel ; to make the bodi/
of the fly ; — the feathers of a drake's head ; black or
brown sheep's wool, or hog's wool, or hair ; thread of
gold and of silver ; silk of several colours, especially
sad-coloured; to make the fly's head: and there be
also other coloured feathers, both of little birds and
of speckled fowl* : I say, having those with him in a

* The Author not having particularly enumerated the Materials ne-
cessary for fly-making, — it will not be improper, once for all, to do it
here. And, first, [for Dubbing :] you must be provided with bear's hair
of divers colours : as grey, dun, light and dark coloured, bright brown
and that which shines : also camel's hair, dark, light, and of a colour be-
tween both : badger's hair, or fur : spaniel's hair from behind the ear,
light and dark brown, blackish and black : hog's down, which may be
had, about Christmas, of butchers, or rather of those that make brawn, —
it should be plucked from, under the throat, and other soft places of the
hog,— and must be of the following colours, •viz. black, red, whitish, and
sandy, and for other colours, you may get them dyed at a dyer's : seal's
fur, is to be had at the trunk-makers, — get this also dyed of the colours
of cow's and calf's hair, in all the different shades, from the light to the
darkest brown ; you will then never need cow's or calf's- hair, — both
which are harsh, and will never work kindly, nor lie handsomely; Get
also mohairs, black ; blue; purple; white; violet; 7//?^ J/it, which colour
is described in a note on Cotton's Flies for March ; Ph'tlomot, from fenille
morte, a dead leaf; yellow ; and orange : Camlets, both hair and worsted,
blue, yellow, dun, light and dark brown, red, violet, purple, black, horse-
flesh, pink, and orange colours. Some recommend the hair of abortive
colts and calves; but seal's fur, dyed as above, is much better.

A piece of an old Turkey carpet will furnish excellent dubbing; un-
twist the yarn, and pick out the wool, carefully separating the different
colours, and lay it by.

Some use for dubbing, barge-sail : concerning which, the reader is to
know, that the sails of West country and other barges, when old, are
usually converted into tilts, — under which there is alniost a continual
smoak arising from the fire and the steam of the beef-kettle which all such

CHAP. y. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 179

Bag*5 and — trying to make a fly, though he miss at
first, yet shall he at last hit it better, even to such a

barges carry, — and which in time dyes the tilt of a fine brown ; this
would be excellent dubbing, but that the material of these sails is sheep's
wool, which soaks in the water, and soon becomes very heavy : however,
get of this as many different shades as you can ; and have seal's fur and
hog-wool dyed to match them, — which, by reason they are more turgid,
ttiff, and light, and so float better, are, in most cases to be preferred to
worsted, crewels, and, indeed, to every other kind of wool, — and observe
that the hog-wool is best for large, and the seals fur for small flies.

Get also furs of the following animals, viz. the squirrel, particularly
from his tail ; fox-cub, from the tail where it is downy and of an ash-
colour; an old fox; an old otter; otter cub; badger fuUmart, or
filmert ; a hair, from the neck, where it is of the colour of withered
fern ; and above all, the yellow fur of the martern, from off the gills or
spots under the jaws, All these, and almost every other kind of fur, are
easily got at the furrier's.

Hackles are a very important article in fly-making : they are the long
slender feathers that hang from the head of a cock down his neck : there
may also be fine ones got from near his tail ; be careful that they are not
too rank, which they are when the fibres are more than half an inch long,
— and for some purposes these are much too big ; be provided with these
of the following colours •viz. red, dun, yellowish, white, orange, and
perfect black, and whenever yon meet, alive or dead, with a cock of the
game breed, whose ancle is of a strong brown-red, never fail to buy him,
— but observe that the feathers of a cock chicken, be they ever so fine for
shape and colour, are good for little ; for they are too downy and weak to
stand erect after they are once wet, and so are those of the Bantam-cock.

[Other] Feathers are absolutely necessary for the wings and other parts
of flies : get therefore feathers from the back and other parts of the wild
mallard, or drake ; the feathers of a partridge, especially those red ones
that are in the tail ; feathers from a cock pheasant's breast and tail, — the
wings of a black-bird, a brown hen, of a starling, a jay, a land-rail, a
throstle, a fieldfare, and a water-coot ; the feathers from the crown of
the pewit, plover, or lap- wing ; green and copper-coloured peacock's, and
black ostrich, herle ; feathers fi'om a heron's neck and wings. And re-
member. That in most instances, where the drake's or wild mallard's
feather is hereafter [in the text] directed, — that from a starling's wing will
do much better, as being of a finer grain, and less spungy.

Be provided with marking-silk of all colours, — fine but very strong,
flaw silk ; gold and silver flatted wire, or twist ; a sharp knife ; hooks of
all sizes ; hog's bristles for loops to your flies ; shoemaker's wax ; a large
needle to raise your dubbing, when flatted with working ; and a small,
but sharp pair of scissars.

And lastly. If any materials required in the subsequent Lists of flies
may have been omitted in the foregoing Catalogue, — be careful to add
$hem to your former stock, as often as you shall find any such omissions.

Remember, — With all your dubbing, to \mix bear's hair and hog's
wool, which are stiff", and not apt to imbibe the water, as the fine furs,
and most other kind of dubbing do; and remember also, that martern's
fur is the best yellow you can use,

* "J'Jie use of a Bag, is attended with mauy iAcoDveciences ; of which.

180 THE COMPLETE 4ANGLER. PART. I.

perfection, as none can well teach him. And if he hitta
make his fly right, — and have the luck to hit jalso^where

the mixing and wasting your materials are not the least : to prevent
which, the following method is recommended ; take a piece of fine-grained
parclmient, of seven inches by nine, and fold it so that the size and pro-
portion of it will be that of a small octavo volume ; then open it, and
through the first leaf, with a sharp penknife and a ruler, make three cross
cuts, at the same proportionable distance as those in I'late XL Fig. 1 . and
with a needle and silk, stitch the two leaves together, as in that figure ; let
each of the margins be half an inch at least.

Then with a pair of compasses, take the distance from A to B, and set
it on in the middle of a small piece of parchment ; and likewise set on
the same distance to the right and left ; and, at each extremity, cut oiF,
with a penknife and ruler, the spare parchment, observmg that the sides
are exactly parallel.

At about a quarter of an inch from the top, make a cut through the
first and third divisions, and with a pair of scissars, snip out the loose
pieces.

Then set on the distance from A to C, and cut as before, leaving the
middle division an inch longer at bottom than the others : when this is
done, your parchment will have the shape and proportion of Fig. 2, and
you may cut the upper flap as it appears there.

Be careful that the cuts, and indeed all your work, are exactly square ;
and when this is done, turn in the sides and ends of the parchment, so cut
as before ; and press the folds with a folding-stick, — and you have one
pocket, shaped as Fig. 3. ; which put into the first partition.

Pursue the same method with the small pockets, and those for
the other partitions; and in this manner, proceed till you have com-
pleted six leaves, which are to make the first of your book. The larger
of these pockets are to hold hog's wool, seal's fur and bear's hair ; and
the smaller, the finer furs, which are those of the martern, fox-cub,
&c.

In each of the six divisions, in every leaf, with a sadler's hollow punch,
make a hole ; to which end, take a thin narrow stick of beech, or any
hardish wood, and when the pocket is in its place, put the stick down into
the pocket, and, observing the centre of the division, give the punch a
smart blow with a mallet : these holes will shew what is contained in each
of the pockets.

The next leaf may be single ; stitch it across with double silk diagonally,
and cross those stitches with others, — and the spaces will be of a lozenge-
shape ; let the stitches be half an inch in length : into these your are to tuck
your dubbing, when mixed ready for use.

The next leaf should be double, stitched with a margin as the others:
and through the first fold cut a lozenge, as big as the size will allow of;
into this you may cuck three or four wings of small birds, as the starling,
the land-rail, the throstle, ^c. At the back of this leaf, sew two little
parchment straps, of half an inch wide, very strong ; through which put
a small, but very neat and sharp pair of scissars.

You may on another single leaf, make four or five cross-bars of long
stitches, through which, as well on the back as the foreside, you may put
large feathers, namely, those of a cock-pheasant's tail, a ruddy-brown
heo, &c.

CHAP. V. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 181

there is store of Trouts, a dark day, nnd a right wind;
he will catch such store of them, as will encourage
him to grow more and more in love with the art of fly-
making.

Ven. But, my loving master ! if any wind will not
serve, tlien I wish I were in Lapland, to buy a good
wind of one of the honest witches, that sell so many
winds there, and so cheap.

Pise. Marry, scholar ! but I would not be there,
nor indeed from under this tree ; for look how it begins
to rain ! and by the clouds, if I mistake not, we shall
presently have a smoking shower ; and therefore sit
close ; this sycamore tree will shelter us. And I will
tell you, as tlicy shall come into my mind, more obser-
vations of fly-fisliing for a Trout.

But, first, for the Wind : You are to take notice,

The next three leaves should be double ; stitch them through the mid-
dle, from side to side,— and with the compasses describe a circle of about
an inch and half diameter ; cut out the parchment within the circle. Un-
der some of the margins, when the leaves are stitched together, you may-
tuck peacock's and ostrich herle ; and in others lay neatly the golden fea-
thers of a pheasant's breast, and the grey and dyed yellow mail of a
mallard.

Three double leaves more, with only two large pockets In each, may be
allotted for silk of various colours, gold and silver twist, and other odd
things.

Six single leaves more will compleat your book ; stitch them from side
to side with distances of half an Inch, — and cross those stitches with others,
from top to bottom, with somewhat greater distances. And into every
other space, reckoning from top to bottom, lay n6atly and smoothly a star-
ling's feather ; do the same on the back-side; and, so, for tico leaves. The
other leaves you may fill with land-rails and other small feathers, plover's
tops, and red and black hackles.

The first and last leaves of your book may be double, stitched In the
middle, from side to side, but open at the edges; which will leave you four
pockets like those of a common pocket-book ; into which you may put
hooks, and a small piece of wax, wrapped in a bit of glove-leather.

To the page tliat contains the mixed dubbings, there should be an In-
dex, referring to every division contained in it, and expressing what fly
each mixture is for.

When your book is thus prepared, send it to the binder with directions
to bind it as strong as possible ; let him leave a flap to one of the boards,
and fasten to it a yard of ribbon to tie it.

The usefuhiess and manifold conveniences of a Book are apparent ; and
whoever will be at the pains of making such a one as this, will find it
greatly preferable to a magazine-bag.

18g THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART. I.

that of the winds the south wind is said to be best. One
observes, that

•when the wind is south,

It blows your bait into a fish's mouth.

Next to that, the west wind is believed to be the best :
and having told you that the east wind is the worst, I
need not tell you which wind is the best in the third
degree. And yet, as Solomon observes, that '' he that
'' considersthe wind shall never sow ;"sohe that busies
his head too much about them, if the weather be not
made extreme cold by an east wind, shallbe a little su-
perstitious : for as it is observed by some, that '* there
" is no good horse of a bad colour ; so I have observed,
that if it be a cloudy day and not extreme cold, let the
wind sit in what corner it will, and do its worst, I heed
it not. And yet take this for a rule, That I would,
willingly, iish standing on the lee-shore. And you are
to take notice. That the fish lies or swims nearer the
bottom, and in deeper water, in Winter — than in Sum-
mer ; and also nearer the bottom, in any cold day, and
then, gets nearer the lee-side oftlie water.

But I promised to tell you, more, of the Fly-fishing
for a Trout ; which I may have time enough to do, for
you see it rains May butter. First for a May-fly :
You may make his body with greenish coloured crewel
or willowish colour ; darkening it in most places with
waxed silk ; (or ribbed with black hair ; or, some of
them, ribbed with silver thread ;) and such wings, for
the colour, as you see the fly to have at that season,
nay, at that very day on the water. Or you may make
the Oak-fly : with an orange, tawiiy, and black
ground; and the brown of a mallard's feather for the
wings *. And you are to know, that these two are most
excellent flies, that is, the May-fly and the Oak-fly.

* Some dub the Oak-fly, with black wool, and Isabella-colored mohair,
and bright brownish bear's hair, warped on with yellow silk, but the head
of an ash-colour ; others dub it with an orange, tawny, and black ground ;
Others with blackish wool and gold-twist ; the wings of the brown of a

CHAP. V. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 183

And let me again tell you, That you keep as far from
the water as you can possibly, whether you fish witha
fly or worm ; and fish down the stream. And when
you fish with a fly, — if it be possible, let no purt of
your line touch the water*, but your fly only ; and be
still moving your fly upon the water, or casting it into
the water, you yourself being also always moving down
the stream.

Mr. Barker commends several sorts of the palmer-
flies ; not only those ribbed with silver and gold, — but
others that have their bodies all made of black ; or, some
with red, and a red hackle. You may also make the
IIawthorn-fly : which is all black, — and not big,
butvery small, the smaller the better. Ortheoak-flyf,
the body of which is orange colour and | see the pre-
black crewel, with a brown wing. Or a ceding page.
fly made with a peacock's feather, is excellent in a
bright day J : You must be sure you want not in your

mallard's feather. Bowlker, in his Art of Anglings p, 63, says, " The
" body may be made of a bittern's feather, and the wings of the feather,
" of a woodcock's wing," These supplementary directions .^ inserted by Sir
yobn Haivkins in a note tivo pages infra, the Editor has transposed^ as relevant
to this part of the text.

* This is impossible, unless you dib with the artificial as with the na-
tural fly, which is never practised. The Method of throwing or casting i«
more particularly treated of, in the notes on Chap. V. Part n»

\ A brother of the angle must., alnvaysy he sped
With three black palmer s^ and also tivo red ;
Andy ally made zvith hackles. In a cloudy day^
Or in ivindy zveathery angle you may :

But morning and evening, if the day be bright ;
And the chief point of all is to keep out of sight,
'* In the month of May, none but the May-fly,
^* For every month y one /" is a pitiful lye.

The black Hawthorn-fly must be very small;
And the sandy bog' s hair isy surcybest of all
(For the mallard-iving JVIay-fyy and peacock'' s tra'iny
Will look like iheflesb-fy) to kill Treut amain.

The Oak-Fly is goody if it have a brown iving.
So is the grasshoppery that in July doth sing ;
With a green body make himy on a middle-siz^d hook.
But whenyeu have catchtfshf then play the good took.

l^i

THE COMPLETE ANGLER, PART.

magazine-bag the peacock's feather : and, grounds of
such wool and crewelas willmake the grasshopper. And
note. That, usually, the smallest flies are the best ; and
note also, That the light fly does usually make most
sport in a dark day ; and thedarkestand least fly, in a
bright or clear day : and lastly note, That you are to
repair, upon any occasion, to your magazine-bng ; and
upon any occasion, vary and make them lighter or sad-
der according to your fancy, or the day.

And now I shall tell you, that the fishing with a na-
tural-fly is excellent, and affords much pleasure.
They may be found thus : the May-jly^ usually,
in and about that month, near to tlie river side,
especially against rain: the Oak-jly^ on the butt or
body of an oak or ash, from the beginning of May iQ
the end of August ; it is a brownish fly, and easy to be
so found, and stands usually with his head downward,
that is to say, towards the root of the tree* : the
small black-fly, or Hawthorn-Jly^ is to be had, on

•f" Compare this Once more^m'^ good brother. I'll speah in thy ear ;
with what is said Hogs^ red coivs., and bear s tcool, to foat best y appear .
at the end of Wal- And so doth your fur, if rightly it fall :
ton's Preface. But altcays remembery make two, and make alif .

A specimen of Mr. Barker s poetry !

* The Oak fly is known also by the names of the Ash-fly and
the Woodcock-fly : and in Shropshire it is called the Cannon or Down-
hill-fly. Bowlker, in his Art of Angling, page 63, says ; " This fly,
■*' as I have lately been informed by a gentleman of veracity, is
** bred in those little balls which grow on the boughs of large oaks,
<' commonly called oak-apples; which he accidentally discovered, by
** opening several of these balls which had been gathered in the
•*' winter and brought into the house; in each of which was found
** the cannon-fly, — some of which, being enHvened by the warmth
** of the room, immediately took flight, and fixed in the window
** with the head downwards, the position they observe on the trees.*'

This discovery, by which the formation of galls is accounted for,
as well as the substances above mentioned, was made long ago by
the sagacious Malpighi; who had, with great diligence, attended to
the operations of insects in the act of depositing their eggs: and, in
his treatise De Gallis^ he describes the hollow 'instrument, wherewith
many flies are provided, with which they perforate the tegument of
leaves, fruits, or buds, and through the hollow of it inject their eggs
into the wounds which they have made, — where, in process of time,
they hatch and are nourished : and this he beheld one pf those in-
sects doing in the bud of an oak# See Malpighi, de Gallis, page 47.
See also Dr. Plot's History of Staffordshire, 224,

CHAP. T. THE COMPLETE ANGLER* 18S

any hawthorn bush after the leaves be corae forth.

With these — ^and a short line, as I shewed

to angle for a Chub* — you may dape *Ante page 135.

or dop; and also with a grashopper;

behind a tree, or in any deep hole; still making it

to move on the top of the water, as if it were alive;

and still keeping yourself out of sight, — you shall

certainly have sport if there be Treats ; yea, in a

hot day, but especially in the evening of a hot day,

you will have sport.

And now, scholar! my direction for fly-fishing is
ended with this shower, for it has done raining.
And now look about you, and see how pleasantly
that meadow looks: nay, and the earth smells as
sweetly too. Come let me tell you what lioly Mr.
Herbert says of such days and flowers as these ; and
then we will thank God that we enjoy tliern ; and
walk to the river and sit down quietly, and try to
catch the other brace of Trouts.

Sweet day ! so cool, so calm, so bright (
The bridal of the earth and sky ;
Sweet dews shall weep thy fall to-night,
for thou must die.

Sweet rose ! whose hue, angry and brave^
Bids the rash gazer wipe his eye ;
Thy root is ever in its grave,

and thou must die*

Sweet spring ! full of sweet days and roses }
A box where sweets compacted lie ;
My music shews you have your closes
and all must die.

And Dr. Derham says, he himself « had once the good fortune
** to see an oak-ball ichneumon strike its terebra into an oak-apple
** divers times, no doubt to lay its eggs therein." Phys, Theol. Book 8i.
Chap. 6. Note bb.

There is no comparison between the first of these authorities and
those of the two persons last mentioned; but it is pleasing to apply
the accidental discoveries of unlearned men to the confirmation of
hypotheses of which they are ignorant.

l8iS 5<HE COMPl.iETE ANGLER. PART I.

Only a sweet and virtuous soul,
Like season'd timber, never gives ;
But when the whole world turn* to coal, —
then, chiefly, lives.

Ten. I thank yon, good master! tor your good di-
rection for fly- fishing ; and for the sweet enjoyment of
the pleasant day, — whirh is, so far, spent without of-
fence to God or man. And I thank you, for the sweet
close of your discourse with Mr. Herbert's verses ; who,
I have heard, loved angling, — and I do the rather be-
lieve it, because he had a spirit suitable to anglers, and
to those primitive christians that you love, and have so
much commended.

Phc, Well, my loving scholar! and / am pleased,
to know that you are so well pleased with my direction
and discourse.

And since you like these verses of Mr. Herbert's, so
well, — ^let me tell you, what a reverend and learned di-
vine—that professes to imitate him, and has indeed
done so most excellently — hath writ of our book of
Common Prayer ; which I know you will like the bet-
ter, because He is a friend of mine, and I am sure no
enemy to angling*.

ffhat I pray'r by th' book ? and cowraioN ? Yes ; Why not ?
The spirit of grace
%4nd supplication y
Is not left free, alone
For time and place.
But manner too : to read, or speak, li/ rote^

* This passage goes very near to unfold to us a secret in literary histo-
ry, viz. the name of the author of the Synagogue a collection of poems,
suppletory to that of Mr. George Herbert entitled the Temple. For we
see '« Ch. Harvie" subscribed to the ensuing eulogium on the Common
Frayer, tvHicH is also to be found in the Synagogue. And I find in the
Athen. Oxon.\o\. I. 267. a Christopher Har-vey; a Master of Arts, Vicar of
Clifton in Warwickshire; born in 1597,— and who lived to 1663, and
perhaps after. Further, the second copy of commendatory verses, pre-
fixed to this book, has the subscription " Ch. Harvie, M. A." The pre-
aumption therefore is very strong, that both were written by the Christo-
j^her Harvey above-mentioned. At the end of the Syfta^ogue are some
yerscj subscribed " Iz. Wa."

CHAP. V.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER,

18T

Is, all, alike — to him that prays,
• In's heart, what with his mouth he lajs.

ThcY that in private, hy themselves alone,
Do pray } may take
What liberty they please,
In chusing of the ways
Wherein to make
Their soul's most intimate affections known
To Him that sees in secret, when
Th' are most conceal'd from other men.

But he, that unto others leads the way.
In public prayer;
Should do it, so.
As all that hear, may know
They need not fear
To tune their hearts unto his tongue and say
Amen ; not doubt they were betray'd
To blaspheme, when they meant to have pray'd.

Devotion will add life unto the Ittter :

And why should not
That which authority
Prescribes, esteemed be
Advantage got ?
If th* prayer be groorf,— the commoner the better.
Prayer in the Omrch's words as well
At SENSE, of all prayers bear the bell*,

CH. HARVIE.

* These verses were written at or near the time when the Liturgy was
abolished by an ordinance of parliament, — and while it was agitating, as a
theological question, Whether, of the two, preconceived or extemporary
prayer, be most agreeable to the sense of scripture ? in favour of the
Former, I have heard it asserted by a very eloquent person, and one of the
ablest writers both in prose and verse now living, that he never without
premeditation could adress his Maker in terms suited to his conceptions ;
and that of all written composition he had found that of prayer to be the
most difficult. Of the same opinion, is a very eminent prelate of this day ;
who, (being himself an excellent judge of literature,) in a convers^ition on
the subject, declared it to me, — at the same time saying, that, excepting
those in the Liturgy, he looked on the prayers of Dr. Jeremy Taylor,
that occur in the course of his works, as by far the most eloquent and
energetic of any in our language.

188 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART r.

And now, scholar ! I tliink it will be time to repair
to our angle-rods ; which we left in the water to fish for
themselves ; and you shall chuse which shall be yours ;
and it is an even lay, one of them catches.

And, let me tell you, this kind of fishing with a dead
rod, and laying night-hooks ; are like putting money
to use ; for they, both, work for the owners when they do
nothing but slrep, — or, eat, — or rejoice, as you know we
have done this last hour, and sat as quietly and as free
from cares under this sycamore, as Virgil's Tityrusand
his Meliboeus did under their broad beech-tree. No
life, my honest scholar ! no life so happy and so plea-
sant, as the life of a well-governed angler ; for when the
lawyer is swallowed up with business, — and the states-
man is preventing, or contriving, plots, — then, we sit
on cowslip-banks, hear the birds sing, and possess our-
selves in as much quietness as these silent silver streams,
which we now see glide so quietly by us. Indeed, my
good scholar, we may say of angling — as Dr. Boteler*
said, of strawberries, " Doubtless God could have
'^ made a better berry, but doubtless God never did ;"
and so, if I might be judge, — " God never did make
*' a more calm, quiet, innocent recreation, than
** angling."

I'll tell you, scholar ! when I sat last on this primrose-
bank, and looked down these meadows, 1 thought of
them as Charles the emperor did of the city of Flo-*
rence: '' That they were too pleasant to be looked on,
'^ but only on holy-days." As I tijten sat on this very
grass, I turned my present Thoughts into verse: 'twas
a Wish which Fll repeat to you i.

♦ The person here mentioned I take4o be Dr. TVilUam Butler, an emi-
nent physician of our author's time, styled by Fuller in his IVortbies, Suf-
folk, 67, the ^sculapius of the age : he invented a medical drink called
*' Dr. Butler's Ale," which, if not now, was a very few years ago, sold at
certain houses in I.ondon, that had his head for a sign. One of these v/as
in Ivy-lane, and another in an alley leading from Coleman-street to Ba-
siughall-street. He was a great humourist ; a circumstance in his cha-
racter, which, joined *o his reputation for skill in his profession, might
contribute to render him popular.

f We have, here, little less than Walton's own word for it, that the
following beautifuJ Stanzas are of^his writing. That he had in his mind »

Plate 1
Andante

S ONG^.

^g^i^ J . J iH-J > J H • ^-H-^^^

S

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tirf /r/Kiri/rr

i

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a

(g^g^3^.gE

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nwe^ a^ti^nio cannot t€4'44/ye ^vntA/ nt/fie vut wve ^Hia/l

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s

5

a

^

5

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J^j .1 I- J J r M- ^

-Acu/r A^tal/ Ufii^T' ^ml ^ Jtt a^ £2l^eat/i to

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<r<2/J^^ jvnt

Act AnS2/^e€im^ ftmttv /m/c^ a^d .J'otJunc

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*^^M/ /o(*t/ .i/t<t// yv* ty rcfff ^,wrr(m'- /nrrt/r ,

,,^ly (lirn/: nounA^ eZie m^f /r^t^l^i Af/n A-o//t //t/ztf f^'yt-.t

^ji&m^/*rr /n iJ ///i/tY^ i^i^ tru^ oiaM'^i}/'^ j/tfff/r ,

cAnr /ffffnM fnyf,ty ^t-ri't wna/i /t^f/*i //tn -yfrf/r/

rt/'f.Jr ,

«HAP. V. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1S9

THE ANGLER'S WISH.

I in these flowerj meads would be :
These chr^stal streams should sqiace me.
To whose harmonious hubblinj^ noise,
I with ray angle would rejoice :
Sit here and see the turtle-dove,
Court his chaste mate to acts of love:

Or on that bank, feel the west wind
Breathe health and plenty : please my mind.
To see sweet dew-drops kiss these flowers.
And, then, wash'd off b;y ^/?r(7 showers :
Here, hear my Kenna sing ♦ a sonj + : ♦ Like Her-

mit poor.

Or a leverock build her nest :
Here, give my weary spirits rest,

vein of poetry, is noted in our Life of him ; to which let me add, that the
name of his supposed mistress, " Kenna," seems clearly to be formed from
the maiden name of his wife, which was Ken.

f We see, by the Author s reference to the margin, that he wishes to
hear Kenna, his mistress, sing the song, " Like Hermit poor." This song
was set to musickbyMr. Nich. Laneare, an eminent master of Walton's
time ; (who, we are told by Wood, was also an excellent painter : and
whose portrait is yet to be seen in the musick school at Oxford ;) and is,
printed, with the notes, in a Collection intitled. Select musical ayres and
dialogues^ folio, 1653. The song, as it stands there, we have given in the
opposite page.

It was also set by Sig. Alfonso Ferabosco, and published in a collection
of his airs, in folio, 1609 ; but Laneare's being the better composition, we
have chose to give it the preference, by inserting it here.

There is no doubt but that this song was (and probably with Mrs. Wal-
ton) a favourite one; for, some years after the restoration, the three first
words of it were become a phrase. The affected writer of the Life of the
lord-keeper Guildford, page 212 of that book — speaking of Sir Job Charle-
ton, then chief justice of Ch2ster — says, he wanted to speak with the
king; and went to Whitehall, where, returning from his walk in St.
James's park, he must pass, — and there he sat him down, " like hermit
poor" And I also find, among the poems of Mr. Phineas Fletcher, here-
after mentioned, a metaphrase of the xliid Psahn; which, we are told,
may be sung to the tune of '• Like hermit poor." Further, we meet with
an allusion to this song in Hudibras, Part I. Canto ii. line 11 69.

That done they ope the trap-door gate,
And let Crowdero down thereat ;
Crowdero making doleful face,
Like hermit poQT in pensive place,

M 3

190 THE COMPLETE ANGLER, PART I,

And raise my low-pitch'd thoughts above

Earth, or >vhat poor mortals love :

Thuf, free from law-suits and the noise
Of prince's courts, I would rejoice : —

Or — with my Bryan* ^ and a took —
Loiter long days near Shawford-brooki :
There, sit by him ; and eat my meat :
There, see the sun both rise and let :
There bid good morning to next day :
There meditate my time away ;
And angle on ; and beg to have
A quiet passage to a welcome grave.

When I had ended this composure, — I left this place ;
and saw a brother-of-the-angle sit under that honey*
suckle hedge, one that will prove worth your acquaint-
ance ; I sat down by him : and, presently, we met
with an accidental piece of merriment ; which I will re-
late to you,— for it rains still.

On the other side of this very hedge, sat a gang of
gypsies ; and near to them, sat a gang of beggars. The
gypsies were, then, to divide all the money that had
been got that week, either by stealing linen or poultry,
or by fortune-telling, or legerdemain, or indeed, by
any other sleights and secrets belonging to their myste-
rious government. And the sum that was got that week,
proved to be but twenty and some odd shillings. The
odd money was agreed to be distributed amongst the
poor of their own corporation : and for the remaining
twenty shillings, — thatwasio be divided nnto four gen-
tlemen gypsies, according to their several degrees in
their commonwealth.

And the first or chiefest gypsy was, by consent, to
have a third part of the tAventy shillings; which all
men know is 6s. 8d.

The second was to have a fourth part of the 20s,
which all men know to be 5s.

* A friend conjectures this to be the name of hi« favourite dog.
t Shawford it a place in StaiFordshire. Spelman's nilart AnglU,

CHAP. T. THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 191

The third was to have a fifth part of the 20s. which
all men know to be 4s.

The fourth and last gypsy was to have a sixth part
of the 20s. which all men know to be 3s. 4d.

As, for example,

3 times 6s. 8d. is 20s.

And so is 4 times 5s. 20s.

And so is 5 times 4s. 20s.

And so is 6 times 3s. 4(1. 20s.

And yet he that divided the money was so very a
gypsy, that though he gave to every one these said
sums, yet he kept one shilling of it for himself.

As for example,

s.

d.

6

8

5

0

4

0

3

4

make but ----- 19 0

But now you shall know, that when the four gypsies
saw that he had got one shilling by dividing the
money, — though not one of them knew any reason to
demand more, yet, like lords and courtiers, every gypsy
envied him that was the gainer ; and wranglecf with
him; and everyone said, the remaining shilling be-
longed to him : and so they fell to so high a contest
about it, as none that knows the faithfulness of one
gypsj^ to another, will easily believe ; only we that
have lived these last twenty years, are certain that money
has been able to do much mischief. However, the gyp-
sies were too wise to go to law, and did therefore choose
their choice friends Rook and Shark, and our late Eng-
lish Gasman*, to be their arbitrators and umpires,

* There is extant, In the Spanish language, a book which has been
translated into English, and most of the other European languages, in-
titled, Tf)e Life of Gusman d' Alfarache ; containing an account of niany
cheats and rogueries which this same Gusman is related to have practised.
In imitation of this book, Mr. Richard Head, who wrote a play or two,
and i» mentioned by Winstanley as a poet, published the English Rogue ;

M 4

192 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART Iv

And so tliey left this honey-suckle hedge ; and went to
tell fortunes and cheat, and get more money and lodg-
ing, in the next village.

W^hen these were gone we heard as high a contention
amongst the beggars, Whether it was easiest to rip a
cloak, or to unrip a cloak ? One beggar affirmed it was
all one : But that was denied, by asking her. If doing
and undoing were all one? Then another said, 'Twas
easiest to unrip a cloak ; for that was to let it alone : But
she was answered, by asking her. How she unript it if
slie let it alone? And she contest herself mistaken.
These, and tv/enty such like questions were proposed,
with as much beggarly logick and earnestness as was
ever heard to proceed from the mouth of the most perti-
nacious schismatick ; aiid sometimes all the beggars—
whose number was neither more nor less than the poets'
nine muses — talked, all together, about this ripping
and unripping; and so loud, that not one heard what
the other said, But, at last, one beggar craved audi-
ence; and told them that old father Clause, whom Ben
Jonson, m his Beggar S'Bush *, created king of their
corporation, was that night to lodge at an ale-Iiouse,
called Catch'her-bi/'the-waj/, not far from Walthara-
Cross, and in the high road towards London ; and he
therefore desired them to spend no more time about that
and such like questions, but refer all to father Clause at
night, — for he was an upright judge, — and in the mean
time drayi^ cuts, what song should be next sung, and
who should sing it. They all agreed to the motion ;
and the lot fell to her that was the yqungest, and veriest
virgin of the company. And she sung Frank Davison's
song, which he made forty years ago ; and all the others

described in the Life of JMeriton LatrooTty a tvitty extravagant ; whom he
makes to have been a member of a gang of gypsies ; the hero of this
book was generally called the " EngHsh Gusman;" and there would be
no doubt that Walton alludes to it, but that the third edition of the Com-
plete AngUr, in which this passage first occurs, was published in 1664;
whereas the English jffog-2/^ bears date 1666; if there was any earlier edition
of the latter the matter is clear— ifoo>t and Shark can be quly imaginary
associates of the English Gusman.

* The comedy of the Hoyal Merchant^ or Beggar s Btisb^ was writtCM
by Beaumont and Fletcher, and not by Ben Jonson.

CHAP. V. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 193-

of the company joined to sins; the burthen with her.
The ditty was this : but first the burthen :

Bright shines the sun. Play beggars play 9
Here^s scraps enough to serve to-day.

What noise of viols is so sweet,

As when our merry clappers ring ?
What mirth doth want, wiien beggars meet ?

A beggar's life is for a king.
Eat, drink, and play ; sleep when we list,
Go where we will, so stocks be mist.

Bright shines the sua. Play beggars play.

Here's scraps enough to serve to-day.

The worW is ours, and ours alone ;

For we alone 'have world at will.
W« purchase not ; all is our own ;

Both fields and streets we beggars fill.

Play beggarsy play ; play beggars play t

Here's scraps enough to serve to-day,

A hundred herds of black and white

Upon our gowns securely feed ;
And yet if any dare us bite.

He dies therefore, as sure as creed.
Thus beggars lord it as they please,
And only beggars live at ease.

Bright shines the sun. Play beggars play,

Here's scraps enough to serve to-day.

Ten, I thank you, good master ! for tliis piece of
merriment ; and this song, which was well humoured
l?y the maker, and well remembered by you.

Pise. But, I pray, forgot not the catch which you
promised to make against night ; for our countryman,
honest Coridon, will expect your catch, — and my song,
which I must be forced to patch up, for it is so long
since I learnt it, that I have forgot a part of it. But,
come ! now it hath done raining, let's stretch our legs
a little in a gentle walk to the river ; and, try what in-
terest our angles will pay us, for lending them so long

IM THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

to be used by tlieTrouts ; lent them indeed, like usurers,
for our profit and their destruction.

Ven, Oh me, look you, master! a fish ! a fish! oh,
alas, master, I have lost her !

Pise, Ah, marry, Sir ! that was a good fish indeed :
if I had had the luck to have taken up that rod, then it
is twenty to one he should have not broke my line by
running to the rod's end, as you suflfered him. 1 would
have held him within the bent of my rod, — unless hehad
been fellow to the great Trout thatjs near an ell long,
which was of such a length and depth, that he had his
picture drawn, and now is to be seen at mine host
Rickabie's, at the George in Ware ; and it may be, by
giving that very great Trout the rod, that is, by casting
it to him into the water, I might have caught him at the
long run ; for so I use always to do when I meet with
an overgrown fish ; and you will learn to do so too,
hereafter; for I tell you, scholar ! fishing is an art — or,
at least, it is an art to catch fish.

Ven* But master ! I have heard that the greatTrout
you speak of is a Salmon.

Pise, Trust me, scholar ! I know not what to say to
it. There are many country people that believe hares
change sexes every year : and there be very many
learned men think so too, — for in their dissecting them,
they find many reasons to incline them to that belief.
And to make the wonder seem yet less, that hares change
sexes, note that Dr. Mer. Casaubon affirms, in his
book of credible and incredible things, that Gasper
Peucerus, a learneid physician*, tells us of a people
that, once a year, turn wolves, partly in shape, and
partly in conditions. And, so. Whether this were a
Salmon when he came into fresli water, and his not re-
tnrning into the sea hath altered him to another colour
or kind, I am not able to say ; but I am certain he hath
all the signs of being a Trout, both for his shape, colour,
and spots : and yet many think he is not.

* And mathematician, born at Lusatia, in 1525; he married the
daughter of Melancthon ; wrote many books on various subjects ; and
<ii«d 1602, aged 78.

CHAP. V. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 195

Ven. But, master! will this Trout which I had hold
of die ? for it is like he hath tlie hook in His belly.

Pise, I will tell you, scholar ! that unless the hook
be fast in his very gorge, 'tis more than probable he will
live : and a little time, with the help of the water, will
rust the hook ; and it will in time wear away,— as the
gravel doth in the horse-hoof, which only leaves a false
quarter.

And now, scholar! let's go to 7wy rod. Look you,
scholar ! I have a fish too : but it proves a logger-
headed Chub : and this is not much amiss ; for this will
pleasure some poor body, as we go to our lodging to
meet our brother Peter and honest Coridoi). Come! now
bait your hook again, and lay it into the water : for it
rains again ; and we will even retire to the sycamore-
tree, and there I will give you more directions concern-
ing fishing ; for I would fain make you an artist.

Ven. X es, good master ! I pray let it be so.

Pise, Well, scholar! now we are sat down and are
at ease, I shall tell you a little more of Trout-fishing,
before I speak of the Salmon ; which I purpose shall be
» next ; and, then, of the Pike or Luce.

You are to know. There is night * as well as day-
fishing for a Trout ; and that, in the night, the best
Trouts come out of their holes. And the manner of
taking them is : On the top of the water ; with a great
lob or garden-worm, or rather two, which you are to
fish with in a place where the waters run somewhat
quietly, for in a stream the bait will not be so well dis-
cerned. I say, in a quiet or dead place, near to some
swift ; there, draw your bait over the top of the w^ater
to and fro, and if there be a good Trout in the hole, he
will take it ; especially if the night be dark, — for then
he is bold, and lies near the top of the water, watching
the motion of any frog or water-rat, or mouse, that
swims betwixt him and the sky : these he hunts after,
if he sees the water but wrinkle, or move in one of these

^ * The reader is not to expect, in the notes on this work, any additional
directions relative to «/g-/&^-;;/?i/6/V;^; a very unwholesome practice, and. fol-
lowed by few except poachers, who are fond of it, because it looks like
stealing.

196 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

dead holes, where these great old Trouts usually lie,
near to their holds : For you are to note, that tlie great
old Trout is both subtil and fearful, and lies close all
day, and does not usually stir out of his hold : but lies
in it as close in the day, as tlie tiniorous hare does in
her form ; for the chief feeding of either is seldom in
the day, but usually in the night, and then the great
Trout feeds very boldly.

And you must fish for him with a long line ; and not
a little hook ; and let him have time to gorge your hook,
for he docs not usually forsake it, as he oft will in tlie
day-fishing. And if the night be not dark; then, fish
so with an artificial fly of a light colonr, and at the
snap : nay, he will sometimes rise at a dead mouse, or
a piece of cloth, or any thing that seems to swim across
the water, or to be in motion. This is a choice way :
but I have not oft used it ; because it is void of the plea-
sures that such days as these that we two now enjoy, af-
ford an angler.

And you are to know, that in Hampshire — which I
think exceeds all England, for swift, shallow, clear,
pleasant brooks, and store of Trouts — they use to catch
Trouts, in the night, by the light of a torch or straw ;
which when they have discovered, they strike with a
Trout-spear, or other ways. This kind of way they
catch very many : but 1 would not believe it till I
was an eye-witness of it, nor do I like it now I have
seen it.'

Ten, But, nlaster ! do not Trouts see us, in the
night ?

Pise. Yes ; and hear, and smell too, both then and
in the day-time. For Gesner observes, the Otter smells
a fish forty furlongs off him in the water : and that it
may be true, seems to be affirmed by Sir Francis Bacon,
in the eighth century of his Natural History ; who,
there, proves that waters may be the medium of sounds,
by demonstrating it thus; '^ That if you knock two
*' stones together very deep under the water, — those that
'' stand on a bank near to that place, may hear the noise
*^ without any diminution of it by the water." He
also offers the like experiment concerning the letting an

CHAP. V. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 197

anchor fall, by a very long cable or rope, on a rock, or
the sand, within the sea. And this being so well ob-
served and demon stt-ated, as it is by that learned man,
has made me to believe that Eels unbed themselves, and
stir, at the noise of thunder,— and not, only, as some
think, by the motion or stirring of the earth which is
occasioned by that thunder.

And this reason of Sir Francis Bacon, Exper, 792. has
made me crave pardon of one that I laughed at for af-
firming, that he knew Carps come to a certain place in
a pond 3 to be fed at the ringing of a bell or the beating
of a drum. And however, it shall be a rule for me,
to make as little noise as I can, when I am fishing, until
Sir Francis Bacon be confuted, which I shall give anjr
man leave to do*.

And lest you may think him singular in this opinion,
— I will tell you, this seems to be believed by our
learned Doctor Hake will, who in his Apology of God's
power and providence +, f. 360, quotes Pliny^ to report
that one of the emperors had particular fish-ponds ;
and, in them, several fish that appeared and came, when
they were called by their particular names \. And St.
James tells us, chap. 3. 7. that all things in the sea
have been tamed by mankind. And "Pliny tells us,
Lib. ix. ob. that Antonia, the wife of Drusus, had a

* That fish hear, i<? confimied by the authority of late writers : Swam-
merdam asserts it, and adds, that "they have a wonderful labyrinth of the
** ear for that purpose," See Swammerdam Of Insects^ edit. London,
1758, p. 50. A clergyman, a friend of mine, assures me, that at the abbey
of St. Bernard, near Antwerp, he saw Carp come at the whistling of the
feeder.

f This book, which was published in folio, 1635, and is full of excellent
learning and good sense, contains an examination and censure of that com-
mon error which philosophers have fallen into, " That there is in nature
«* a perpetual and universal decay ;" the contrary whereof, after an ex-
tensive view of the history of the physical and moral world, and a judi-
cious and impartial comparison of former ages v/ith that wherein the au-
thor lived, is with great force of argument, demonstrated. The reader
may, in this book, meet with a relation of that instance of Lord Crom-
well's gratitude to Sig. Frescobaldi, a Florentine merchant, which is given,
in a dr;imatic form, in the History of Thomas Lord Cromivell, published a»
Shakespeare's by some of the earlier editors of his works,

\ Mons. Bernier, in bis Hhlory of Indostan^ reports the like of the
Great Mogul. .

lOS THE COMPLETE ANGLER, PART I.

Lamprey, at whose gills she Jiung jewels or ear-rings ;
and that others hare been so tender-hearted, as to shed
tears at the death of fishes, which they have kept and
loved. And these observations, which will to most
hearers seem wonderful, seem to have a further con-
firmation from Martial*^ Lib, iv. Upigr, SO. who
writes thus :

Piscalor ! fuge, tie nocens, &c.

Angler ! would'st thou be guiltless ? then forbear ;
For these are sacred fishes that swim here.
Who know their sovereign, and -will lick his hand.
Than which none's greater in the world's command :
Nay more, thej've names, and when thej called are,
Do to their several owner's call repair.

AH the further use that I shall make of this shall be.
To advise anglers to be patient and forbear swearing,
lest they be heard and catch no fish +.

And so I shall proceed, next, to tell you, it is certain,
that certain fields near Leominster, a town in Hereford-
shire ; are observed. To make the sheep that graze uj>on
them more fat, than the next, and also to bear finer wool,
— this is to say, that that year in which they feed in
such a particular pasture, they shall yield finer wool
than they did that year before they came to feed in it ;

* The verses cited are as follow^ ;

Piscator ! fuge, ne nocens recedas,
Sacris piscibus hse natantur undas ;
Qui norunt dominurn, manumque lambunt
Illam, qua nihil est, in orbe, majus :
Quid, quod nomen habent ; et ad magistri
Vocem quisque sui venit citatus.

\ The following extract of a letter which appeared in one of the Lon-
don papers, 21st June, 1788, should operate as a general caution against
using, in the composition of baits, any ingredient prejudicial to the hu-
man constitution. " Newcastle, June 16. Last week, in Lancashire, two
*' young men, having caught a large quantity of Trout by mixing the
«< water in a small brook with lime, ate heartily of tlie Trout at dinner
" the next day : they were seized, at midnight, with violent pains ia
*' jthe intestines ; and though medical assistance was immediately procured^
«« they expired, before noon, in the greatest agonies."

CHAP. V. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 199

and coaiser, again, if they shall return to their former
pasture ; and, again, return to a finer wool, being fed
in the fine wool ground : — Which, I tell you, that you
may the better believe that, I am certain, if I catch a
Trout in one meadow he shall be white and faint, and
very like to be lousy; and, as certainly, if I catch a
Trout in the next meadow, he shall be strong, and red,
and lusty, and much better meat. Trust me, scholar !
I have caught many a Trout in a particular meadow,
that the very shape and the enamelled colour of him
hath been such, as hath joyed me to look on him : and
1 have then, with much pleasure, concluded with Solo-
mon, " Every thing is beautifulin its season*."

♦ The Trout delights in small purling rivers, and brooks, with gravelly
bottoms and a swift stream. His haunts are an eddy, behind a stone, a
log, or a bank that projects forward into the river, and against which the
stream drives ; a shallow between two streams ; or, towards the latter
end of the summer, a noill-tail. His hold is usually in the deep, uuder the
hollow of a bank, or the root of a tree.

The Trout spawns about the beginning of November ; and does Hot re-
cover till the beginning of March. ■ '

Walton has been so particular on the 'subject of Trout-fishing, that hd
has left very little room to siiy any thing, by way of annotation, with
respect to Baits, or the Method of taking this fish : yet there are some
directions and observations pertinent to this chapter, which it would
not be consistent with the intended copiousness and accuracy of this
work to omit.

When you fish for large Trout or Salmon, a ivincb of the shape of
Fig. 4, Plate XI. will be very useful : upon the rod with which you use
the winch, — whip a number of small rings of about an eighth of an
inch diameter, and, at first, about two feet distant from each other,
but, afterwards, diminishing gradually in their distances till you come to
the end : the winch must be screwed-on to the butt of your rod :
and round the barrel, let there be wound eight or ten yards of wove
hair or silk line. When you have struck a fish that may endanger
your tackle, let the line run, and wind him up as he tires.

You will find great convenience, in a spike, made of a piece of the
greater end of a sword-blade, screwed into the hither end of the butt
of your rod : when you have struck a fish, retire backwards from the
river, and, by means of the spike, stick the rod perpendicular in the
ground; you may then lay hold on the line, and draw the fish to
you, as you see proper.

When you angle for a Trout, whether with a fly or at the ground,
you need make but three or four trials in a place; which, if unsuc-
cessful, you may conclude there are none there.

Walton, in speaking of the several rivers where Trout are foun<l,
has made no mention of the Kennet ; which, undoubtedly, produces a«
good and as jnany Trouts as any river in England. la the reign of

200 tHE COMPLETE ANGLER. PARTI.

I should, by promise, speak next of the Salmon; but
I will, by your favour, say a little of the Umber or Gray-
ling • which is so like a Trout for his shape and feed-
ing, that I desire I may exercise your patience with a
short discourse of him ; and, then^ the next shall be of
the Salmon, [^s the Supplementary Notes of
Hawlins, when appended to the last word of a Chap^
ter^ ntcessarily run, if long, under the following Chap-
ter^ to which they haxe no relation ; sometimes driving
other Notes out of their places, perplexing the Refer-
ences, and greatly obscuring the application of the
Supplementary Matter; the Editor has taken the
liberty to remove the mark of reference in some of
these cases, whenever he could find, higher up in the
chapter, a passage with which the additional in-
structions seem to have a natural connection. 2

King Charles the Second, a Trout was taken — in that river, near
Newbury, with a casting net— which measured forty-five inches in
kngth.

tHE COMPLETE ANGLElt. 201

CHAPTER VL

Observations of the Umber or Grayling, and DireC"
tions how to fish for him»

PlSCATOA.

THE Urnber and Grayling are tliougbt, by some,
to differ as the Herring and Pilchard do. But though
they may do, so, in other nations, — I think those in
England differ nothing but in their names. Aldrovan-
dus says, they be of a Trout kind : and Gesner says,
that in his country, which is Switzerland, he is ac-
counted the choicest of all fish. And in Italy, he is,
in tJwj month of May, so highly valued, that he is sold
at a much higher rate than any other fish. The French,
which call the Chub Un Villain^ call the Umber of the
lake Leman, Un Urnble Chevalier; and they value
the Umber or Grayling so highly, that they say he
feeds on gold; and say, that many have been caught,
out of their famous river of Loire, out of whose bel-
lies grains of gold have been often taken. And some
think that he feeds on water-thyme, and smells of it at
his first taking out of the water ; and they may think
so with as good reason as we do, that our Smelts
smell like violets at their first being caught, which I
think is a truth. Aldrovandus says, the Salmon, the
Grayling, and Trout, and all fish that live in clear
and sharp streams, are made by their mother Nature of
such exact shape, and pleasant colours, purposely to
invite us to a joy and contentedness in feasting witli
her. Whether this is a truth or not, it is not my
purpose to dispute ; but it is certain, all that write of
the Umber, declare him to be very medicinable.
And Gesner says, that the fat of an Umber, or Gray-
ling, being sef, with a little honey, a day or two, in
the sun, in a little glass, is very excellent against
xednesssi or swarthincss, or any thing that breeds in

202

THE COMPLETE ANGLEH.

PART I,

the eyes. Salvian* takes him to be called Umber from
his swift swimming or gliding out of sight, more like a
shadow or a ghost than a fish. Much more might be
said both of his smell and taste: but I shall only tell
you, that St. Ambrose, the glorious bishop of Milan,
who lived when the church kept fasting-days, calls him
the flower-fish, or flower of fishes ; and that he was so
far in love with him, that he would not let him pass
without the honour of a long discourse. But I must,
and pass on to, tell you how to take this dainty fish.

©mATLIM©.

First note, That he grows not to the bigness of a
Trout ; for the biggest of them do not usually ex-*
ceed eighteen inches. He lives in such rivers as the
Trout does; and is usually taken with the same
baits as the Trout is, and after the same manner, —
for he will bite both at the minnow, or worm, or
fly, — ^though he bites not often at the minnow, and
is very gamesome at the fly; and much simpler,

♦ JJippolHo Sahiantt an Italian physician of the sixteenth century;
he wrote a treatise De Fiseibusf cum eorum Jiguris; and died at Rome,
1572, aged 59.

CtlAP. VI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. SOS

and tliercfore lx)l(ler than a Trout ; for he will rise
twenty times at a fly, if you miss him, and yet rise
again. He lias been taken with a fly made of the
ted feathers of a paralita, a strange outlandish bird ;
and he will rise at a fly not unlike a gnat, or a
small moth, or indeed, at most flies that are not too
big. He is a fish that lurks close, all Winter : but
is very pleasant and jolly after mid-Jpril, and in
Mayy and in the hot months. He is of a very fine
shape; his flesh is Avhite; his teeth, those little ones
that he has, are in his throat, — yet he has so tender
a mouth, that he is oftner lost after an angler has
hooked him, than any other fish. Though there be
raany of these fishes in the delicate river Uove, and
in Trent,-^and some other smaller rivers, as that
which runs by Salisbury ; yet he is not so general a
fish as the Trout, nor to me so good to eat or to angle
for*. And so I shall take my leave of him : and now

* The haunts of the Grayling are so nearly the same with those ot
the Trout, that in fishing for either, you may, in many rivers, catch
both.

They spa-um about the beginning of April ; when they He, mostly, in
sharp streams.

Baits for the Grayling are chiefly the same as those for the Trout,
except the minnow, which he will not take so freely. He will also
take gentles very eagerly. When you fish for him with a fly, you can
hardly use one too small.

The Grayling is much more apt to rise than descend; therefore, when
you angle for him, alone, and not for the Trout, — rather use a float,
with the bait from six to nine inches from the bottom, than the run-
ning-line.

The Grayling is found in great plenty In marly rivers in the north,
particularly the Number. And in the Wye, which runs through Here-
fordshire and Monmouthshire into the Severn^ I have taken, with an
artificial fly, very large ones ; as also great numbers of a small, but
excellent fish, of the Trout kind, called a Last-spring; of which, some-
what will be said in a subsequent note. They are not easily to be got
at without a boat, or, wading; for which reason, those of that coun-
try use a thing they call a thorrocle, or truckle: in some places it is
called a coble, from the latin corbula, a little basket: it is a basket
shaped like the half of a walnut-shell, but shallower in proportion,
and covered on the outside with a horse's-hide ; it has a bench in the
middle, and will just hold one person; and is so light that the coun-
trymen will hang it on their heads like a hood, — and, so, travel, with
a small paddle which serves for a stick,' till they come to a river;
and then they launch it, and step in : theire is great difficulty in get-
ting into one of those truckles, for the instant you touch it with your

N

204 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

come to some observations of the Salmon, and how
to catch him.

foot It flies from you: and when you are in, the l«ast inclination
of the body oversets it. It is very diverting to see how upright a
man is forced to sit in these vessels, and to mark with what state
and solemnity he draws up the stone which serves for an anchor,
when he would remove, and lets it down again : however, it is a
sort of narigation that I would wish our piscatory disciple, never to
attempt.

THIS COMPLETE ANGLER. S05

CHAPTER VII.

Observations of the Salmon ; with Directions how
to fish for him*

PlSCATOR.

THE Salmon is accounted the king of fresh-water
fish; and is ever bred in rirers relating to. the sea^
yet so high, or far from it, as admits of no tincture
of salt, or brackishness. He is said to breed or cast
his spawriy in most rivers, in the mbnth of August* :
some say, that then they dig a hole or grave in a
safe place in the gravel ; and there place their eggs
or spawn, after the • melter has done his natural
office : and then hide it most cunningly, and cover
it over with gravel and stones ; and then leave it toi
their Creator's protection, who, by a gentle heat
■which he infuses into that cold element, makes it
brood, and beget life in the spawn, and to become
Samlets early in the spring next following.

The Salmons having spent their appointed timci
and done this natural duty in the fresh waters, —
they then haste to the sea before winter, both the
melter and spawner: but if they be stopt by flood-
gates or weirs, or lost in the fresh waters, — then those
so left behind, by degrees grow sick and lean, and
unseasonable, and kipper, that is to say, have boney
gristles grow out of their lower chaps, not unlike
a hawk's beak, which hinders their feeding ; and,
in time, such fish so left behind pine away and die.
It is observed, That he may live thus, one year, from
the sea : but he then grows insipid and tasteless, and

* Their usual time of spawning, Is about the beginning of September ;
b»t it ii said, that those in the Severn spawn in May.

N 2

206 THE COMPLtTE ANGLER, PART I,

loses both his blood and strength ; and pines and dies
the second year. And it is noted, That those little
Salmons called Skeggers, which abound in many
rivers relating to the sea, are bred by such sick
Salmons that might not go to the sea ; and, that
though they abound, yet they never thrive to any
considerable bigness.

But if the old Salmon gets to the sea, — ^then that
gristle which shews him to be kipper, wears away;
or, is cast off, as the eagle is said to cast his bill ;
and he recovers his strength ; and comes next sum-
mer to the same river, if it be possible, — to enjoy
the former pleasures that there possest him * ; for, as
one has wittily observed, he has — like some persons
of honour and riches, which have both their winter
and summer-houses — the fresh rivers for summer,
and the salt water for winter, to spend his life in ;
which is not, as Sir Francis Bacon hath observed
in his History of Life and Deaths above ten years.
And it is to be observed, that though the Salmon
does grow big in the sea, yet he grows not fat but
in fresh rivers ; and it is observed, that the farther
they g<ii from the sea, they be both the fatter and
better.

Next, I shall tell you, That though they make
very hard shift to get out of the fresh rivers into
the sea; yet they will make harder shift to ^t\^
out of the salt, into the fresh rivers, — to spawn, or
possess the pleasures that they have foi'merly found

* The migration of the Salmon, and divers other sorts of fishes,
is analogous to that of birds: and Mr. Ray confirms Walton's as-
sertion by saying, that " Salmon will yearly ascend up a river four
*' or five hundred miles; only to cast their spawn, and secure it in
*' banks of sand till the young be hatched and excluded ; and then
** return to sea again." Wisdom of Cod manifested in the Works of tkc
Creation^ ISO.

It may not be improper here to take notice, that in this, and several
other parts of the book, the facts related by the Author do most
remarkably coincide with later discoveries of the most diligent and
«agacious naturalist*; ft circuuistance that mult add great weight to
all his assertions.

CHAP. VII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 207

in them: to which end, they will force theniselves
through flood-gates, or over weirs, or hedges, or
stops in the water, even to a height beyond common
belief. Gesner speaks of such places as are known
to be above eight feet high above water. And our
Camden mentions, in his Britannia, the like won-
der to be in Pembrokeshire, where the river Tivy
falls into the sea ; and that the fall is so downright,
and so high, that the people stand and wonder at
the strength, and slight, by which they see the
Salmon use to get out of the sea into the said
river ; and the manner and height of the place is
so notable, that it is known, far, by the name of the
Salmon-leap, Concerning which, take this also out
of Michael Drayton *, my honest old friend ; as he
tells it you, in his Pol?/olbionf.

As when the Salmon seeks a fresher stream to find ;
Which hither from the sea comes, yearlv, by his kind, '
As he tow'rds season grows ; and stems the watry tract
Where TVry, falling down, makes an high cataract,
Forc'd by the rising rocks that there her course oppose.
As tho', within her bounds, they meant her to inclose; —
Here, when the labouring fish does at the foot arrive,
And finds that by his strength he does but vainly strive ;
His tail takes in his mouth, and bending like a bow
That's to full compass drawn, aloft himself doth throw, —
Then springing at his height, as doth a little wand
That, bended end to end and started from man's hand.

* An excellent poet, born in Warwickshire, 1563. Among his works,
which are very numerous, is the Polyolhion, a chor ©graphical description
of the rivers, mountains, forests, castles, Iffc. in this island. Though this
poem has great merit, it is rendered much more valuable by the learned
notes of Mr. Selden. The author died in 1631 ; and lies buried among the
poets in Westminster abbey,

t Dr. Warburton, in the Preface to his Shakespeart speaking of this
poem, says it was written by one Drayton ; a mode of expression very
common with great men, when they mean to consign the memory
of others over to oblivion and contempt. Bishop Burnet, speaking of
the negociations previous to the peace of Utrecht, says in like manner,
that " one Prior was employed to finish the treaty." But both those
gentlemen, in this their witty perversion of an innocent monosyllable,
were but imitators of the Swedish ambassador, who complained to
Whitlocke, that a treaty had been sent to be translated by one Mr* Miiicn^
m blind man. Whitlocke's Mem. 633.

V 3

208 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PARTI.

Far off itself doth cast ; so does the Salmon vault t
And if, at first, he fail, — his second summersault *
He instantlj^ essajs, and, from his nimble ring
Still jerking, never leaves until himself he fling
Above the opposing stream. — .

This, Michael Drayton tells you, of thi^ leap or
summersault of the Salmon.

And, next, I shall tell you, — that it is observed
by Gesner and others. That there is no better Salmon
than in England, — and that though some of our
northern counties have as fat, and as large t, as the
river Thames, yet none are of so excellent a taste.

And as I have told you that Sir Francis Bacon
observes, the age of a Salmon exceeds not ten years }
so let me next tell you, That his growth is very-
sudden : it is said, that, after he is got into the sea^
lie becomes, from a Samlet not so big as a Gudgeop,
to be a Salmon, in as short a time as a gOsling
becomes to be a goose. Much of this, has been
observed; by tying a ribband, or some known tape
or thread, in the tail of some young Salmons, which
have been taken in weirs as they haye swimmed to-
wards the salt water; and then by taking a part
of them, again, with the known mark, at the same
place, at their return from the sea, which is usually
about^six months after : (And the like experiment hath
been tried upon young swallows; who have, after
six months absence, been observed to return to the
same chimney, there to make their nests and habi-
tations for the summer following :) Which has in-
clined many to think, that every Salmon usually
returns to the same river in which it was bred ; as

* Summersault, or summerset, from sottbresault, Fr. A high leap,
in which the heels are thrown over the head. Johnson's Diet, To
throw a summerset, is a phrase common with tumblers.

f The following interesting article of intelligence, appeared in
one of the London journals, 18 April 1789: " The largest salmon
" ever caught, was yesterday brought to London. This extraordinary
" fish measured upwards of four feet, from the point of the nose to
" the extremity of the tail ; and, three feet round the thickest part
<* of the body: its weight was seventy pounds within a few ounces.
" A fishmonger in the Minories cut it up at one shilling fer pound»
** and the whole was sold almost immediately."

CHAP. vn.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER,

209

young pigeons, taken out of the same dove-cote, have
also been observed to do.

And you are yet to observe further, That Ihe Hc-
salraon is usually bigger than the Spawner ; and that
he is more kipper, and less able to endure a winter in
the fresh water than she is : yet she is — at that time
of looking less kipper, and better — as watry, and as
bad meat.

And yet you are to observe, that as there is no general
rule without an exception ; so there are some few rivers
in this nation, that have Trouts and "Salmons in season
in winter, as it is certain there be in the river fVye in
Monmouthshire, where thcT/ be in season, as Camden
observes, from September till April. But, my scholar !
the observation of this and many other things, 1 must
in manners omit ; because they will prove too large for
our narrow compass of time ; and, therefore, I shall
next fall upon my directions, How to fish for this

,:;fe!^,"'''ii^iti;|'i;L

And, for that : First, you shall observe, that usually
be stays not long in a place, as Trouts will : but, as I
said, covets still to go nearer the spring-head * : And
that he does not— as the Trout, and many other fish —
lie near the water-side or bank, or roots of trees : but
swims in the deep and broad parts of the water, and

* The Salmon delights in large, rapid rivers ; especially such as have
Ipebbly, gravelly, and sometimes weedy bottoms.

210 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I*

usually in the middle, and near the ground ; and that,
there, yoii are to fish for him : And that he is to be
caught, as the Trout is, with a worm, — a minnow,
which some call a penk, — or, with a fly.

And you are to observe, That he is, very seldom, ob-
served to bite at a minnow, yet sometimes he will; and
not, usually, at a fly ; but, more usually, at a worm, — -
and then, most usually, at a lob or garden-worm,
which should be well scoured, that is to say, kept
seven qr eight days in moss before you fish with them :
and if you double your time of eight into sixteen,
twenty, or more days, it is still the better ; for the
worms wjll still be clearer, tougher^ and more lively,
— and continue, so, longer upon your hook. And they
may be kept longer, by keeping them cool, and in fresh
moss ; and some advise to put camphire into it *.

Note also. That many use to fish for a salmon, with
a ring of wire, on the top of their rod, through which
the line may rim to as great a length as is needful,
when he is hooked. And to that end, some use a
wheel about the middle of their rod, or near their hand ;
which is to be observed better by seeing one of them,
than by a large demonstration of words.

And now I shall tell you, that which may be called
a secret. I have been a-fishing with old Oliver Henly,
now with God, a noted fisher both for Trout and Stil-
mon; and have observed, that he would usually take
three or four worrris out of his bag, and put them into
a little box in his pocket, where he would usually
let them continue half an hour or more, before he would
bait his hook with them. I have asked him his reason ;
and he has replied, '' He did but pick the best out, to
'' be in readiness against he baited* his hook the next

* Baits for Salmon, are : lob- worms, — for the ground ; smaller worms
and bobs, cad-bait, and, indeed, most of the baits taken by the Trout, —
at the top- of the water. And as to flies ; remember to make them of the
most gaudy colours, and very large. There is a fly called the horse-leech
fly, which he is very fond of: they are of various colours* have great
heads, large bodies, very long tails, and two (and some have three)
pair of wings, placed behind each other: behind each pair of wings, whip
the body about with gold or silver twist, or both ; and do the same by
the head : With this fly, fish at length, — as, for Trout and Grayling. But
if you dlb, do it with two or three butterflies of different oplours, or with
some of the most glaring small flies you can find.

CHAP. VII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 211

" time :'* but he has been observed, both by others and
myself, to catch more fish than I, or any other body
that has ever gone a-fishing with him, could do, and
especially Salmons. And I have been told, lately, by
one of his most intimate and secret friends, that the box
in which he put those worms, was anointed with a drop
or two or three, of the oil of ivy-berries, made by ex-
pression or infusion ; and, told, that by the worms re-
maining in that box an hour, or a like time, they had
incorporated a kind of smell that was irresistibly at-
tractive, enough to force any fish within the smell of
them, to bite. This, I heard not long since from a
friend ; but have not tried it ; yet I grant it probable,
and refer my reader to Sir Francis Bacon's Natural
History^ where he proves fishes may hear ; and, doubt-
less, can more probably smell : And I am certain Ges-
ner says, the Otter can smell in the water ; and I know
not but that fish may do so too. It is left for a lover
of angling, or any that desires to improve that art, to
try this conclusion.

I shall also impart two other experiments, but not
tried by myself, which I will deliver in the same words
that they were given me, by an excellent angler and a
very friend, in writing ; he told me the latter was too
good to be told, but in a learned language, lest it
should be made common.

*' Take ths stinking oil drawn out of polypody of
" the oak by a retort, mixt with turpentine and hive-
** honey ; and anoint your bait therewith, and it will
*' doubtless draw the fish to it."

The other is this: '^ Vulnera hederce grandissimce
" injlicta sudant Balsamum oleo gelato, alhicantique
*' persimile, odoris vero longe suavissimi."

** 'Tis supremely sweet to any fish, and yet assafce*
<' tida may do the like */*

* There is extant, though I have never been able to get a sight of it,
a book intitled, the Secrets of Angling by J . D. ; at the end of which, is the
foJlowing mystical recipe of " R. R." who possibly may be the •♦ R, Roe''
mepti^ned in the Preface, [to IValton,']
N 4

214 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I'

CHAPTER Vm.

Ohservaiions of the Luce or Pike, zdth Directions
how iojish for him.

PiSCATOR.

THE mighty Luce or Pike is taken to be the tyrant,
as the Sahnon is the king, of the fresh waters. 'Tis
not to be doubted, b»it that they are bred ; some by
generation; and some not, — as namely, of a weed call-
ed pickerel-weed, unless learned Gesncr be much mis-
taken : for lie says, this weed and other glutinous mat-
ter, with the help of the sun's heat, in some particular
months, and some ponds apted for it by nature, do be-
come Pikes, — but, doubtless, divers Pikes are bred after
this manner : or, are brought into some ponds some
such other ways as is past man's finding out ; of which
we have daily testimonies.

Sir Francis Bacon, in his Hisiorij of Life and Death j
observes the Pike to be the longest lived of any fresh-
water fish, — and yet he computes it to be not, usually,
above forty years; and others think it to be not above
ten years ; and yei Gesner mentions a Pike taken, in
Swedeland, in the year 1449, with a ring about his neck,
declaring he was put into that pond by Frederick the
Second, more than two hundred years before he was last
taken, as by the inscription in that ring, being Greek,
was interpreted by the then Bishop of Worms *. But

* Either Walton is mistaken in this relation ; or there is in his Author,
Gesner, another to the same purpose, with different circumstances. I
have not Gesner's book at hand : but in a well known book, entitled the
Gentleman s Recreation^ I meet with the following extract from him :

** In the year 1497, a fish was caught in a pond near Haylprum, [forsaK
*♦ HailSron] in Suabia; with a brass ring, at his gills, in which were en-
** graved these words ; I am the first fish ivhich Frederitk the second^ governor
" af the -u: or Id, put into this pond the fifth of October, 1233-" By which it
appears, that this fisli had, then, lived two hundred and sixty-odd yeart

CHAP, VIII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 215

of this — no more, but that it is observed, that the old
or very great Pikes have in them more of state than
goodness ; the smaller or middle-sized Pikes being by
the most, and choicest, palates observed to be the best
meat : and, contrary, the Eel is observed to betlie bet-
ter, for age and bigness.

AH Pikes that live long, prove chargeable to
their keepers, because their life is maintained by
the death of so many other fish, even those of their
own kind : which has made him, by some writers,
to be called the tyrant of the rivers, or the fresh-
water wolf, by reason of his bold, greedy, devour-
ing disposition; which is so keen that, as Gesner
relates, A man going to a pond, where it seems a
Pike had devoured all the fish, to water his mule,
had a Pike bit his mule by the lips; to which the
pike hung so fast, that the mule drew him out of the
water ; and by that accident, the owner of the mule
angled out the Pike. And the same Gesner observes,
that a maid in Poland had a Pike bit her by the
foot as she was washing clothes in a pond. And
I have heard the like of a woman in Killingworth
pond, not far from Coventry. But I have been as-
sured by my friend Mr. Seagrave, of whom I spake
to you formerly, that keeps tame Otters, That he
hath known a Pike, in ejctreme hunger, fight with
one of his Otters for a Carp that the Otter had
caught, and was then bringing out of the water.
1 have told you who relate these things ; and tell
you they are persons of credit ; and shall conclude
(his observation, by telling you, what a wise man
has observed, ''It is a hard thing to persuade the
" belly, because it has no ears*."

"* Bowlker, in his Art of Angling before cited, page 9, gives the
following instance of the exceeding voracity of this fish: " My
« father catched a Pike in Barn-Meer, (a large standing-w^ater in
" Cheshire) was an ell long, and weighed thirty-five pounds, which
** he brought to the lord Cholmondeley : his. lordship ordered it to be
« turned into a canal in the garden, wherein were abundance of
« several sorts of fish. About twelve months after, his lordship
« draw'd the canal, and found that this overgrown Pike had devoure4

216 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART !.

But if these relations be disbelieved, — it is foo evi-
dent to be doubted. That a Pike will devour a fish,

«' all the fish, except one large Carp, that weighed between nine
*< and ten pounds, and that was bitten in several places. The Pike was
*' then put into the canal again, together with abundance of fish
*' with him to feed upon, all which he devoured in less than a year's time ;
*' and was observed by the gardener and workmen there, to take
«' the ducks, and other water-fowl, under water. Whereupon they
*' shot magpies and crows, and threw them into the canal, which
•* the Pike took before their eyes : of this they acquainted their
« lord ; who, thereupon, ordered the slaughterman to fling in calves-
*' bellies, chickens-guts, and such like garbage, to him, to prey upon :
«* but being soon after neglected, he died, — as supposed, for want of
«' food."

The following relation was inserted as an article of news in one of
the London Papers, 2d Jan, 1765 :

Extract of a Letter from Littlefort., Dee. 17.

*» About ten days ago, a large Pike was caught in the river Ouse ;
.«• which weighed upwards of 28 pounds, and was sold to a gentleman
«' in the neighbourhood for a guinea. As the cook-maid was gutting
•* the fish, she found, to her great astonishment, a watch with a black
•* ribbon, and two steel seals annexed, in the body of the Pike ; tbe
«* gentleman's butler, upon opening the watch, found the maker's
" name, Thomas Cranefield, Burnham, Norfolk. Upon a strict enquiry,
«* it appears, that the said watch was sold to a gentleman's servant,
*< who was unfortunately drowned about six weeks ago, in his way
«« to Cambridge, between this place and South-Ferry. The watch
*« is still in the possession of Mr. John Roberts, at the Cross-Keys, in
«< Littleport, for the inspection of the public."

And this, in the same paper, the 25th of the same month, and,
year.

" On Tuesday last, at Lillishall lime-works, near JSfeivport^ — a pool
*' about nine yards deep, which has not been fished for ages, was let
•* off, by means of a level brought up to drain the works ; when an
•« enormous Pike was found : he was drawn out by a rope fastened round
<* his head and gills, amidst hundreds of spectators, m which service a
** great many men were employed : he weighed upwards of 170 pounds,
" and is thought to be the largest ever seen. Some time ago, the clerk
** of the parish was trolling in the above pool, when his bait was seized by
«* this furious creature, which by a sudden jerk pulled him in, and
** doubtless would have devoured him also, had he not by wonderful
« agility and dexterous swimming, escaped the dreadful jaws of tliis
«* voracious animal.'*

In Dr. Plot's History of Staffordshire^ 24S, are sundry relations of
Pike of great magnitude ; one in particular, caught in the Thame^ an
ell and two inches long.

The following story, containing further evidence of the voracity of
this fish, with the addition of a pleasant circumstance, I met with in
Fuller's Wvrthies^ Lineolnthirey page 144 :

CHAP. Vtll. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 217

of his own kind, that shall be bigger than his belly
or throat will receive, and swallow a part of him,
and let the other part remain in his mouth till the
swallowed part be digested, and then swallow that
other part that was in his mouth, and so put it
over by degrees ; which is not unlike the Ox', and
some other beasts' taking their meat — not, out of their
mouth, immediately into their belly, but first into
some place betwixt; and then chew it, or digest it
by degrees after, which is called chewing the cud.
And, doubtless. Pikes will bite when they are not
hungry ; but as some think, even for very anger ;
when a tempting bait comes near to them.

And it is observed. That the Pike will cat ve-
nomous things, as some kind of frogs are ; and yet live
without being liarmed by them ; for, as some say, he
has in him a natural balsam, or antidote against all
poison. And he has a strange heat, that though it ap-
pears to us to be cold, can yet digest or put over, any
fish-flesh, by degrees, without being sick. And others
observe, that he never cats the venomous frog till he
have, first, killed her, and, tlicn — as ducks are observed
to do to frogs in spawning time, at which time some
frogs are observed to be venomous — so thoroughly

** A cub Fox, drinking out of the river Arnus in Italy, had his
" head seized on by a mighty Pike, so that neither could free themselves,
*' but were ingrappled together. In this contest, a young man run»
" into the water, takes them out both alive ; and carrieth them to
** the Duke of Florence, whose palace was hard by. The porter would
•' not admit him, without promising of sharing his full half in what the
*' duke should give him ; to which he (hopeless, otherwise, of entrance)
" condescended. The duke highly affected with the rarity, was about
" giving him a good reward ; which the other refused, desiring hi»
" highness would appoint one of his guard to give him an hundred
" lashes, that so his porter might have fifty, according to his composition.
** And here my intelligence leaveth me, how much farther the jest was
« followed."

The same Author relates — from a book entitled Fox Plscls^ printed in
1626 — that one Mr. Anderson, a townsman and merchant of Newcastle,
talking with a friend on Newcastle bridge, and fingering his ring, let it fall
into the river : but it having been swallowed by a fish, — and the fish,
afterwards taken, — the ring was found and restored to him. Worthies^
Northumberland^ 310. A like story is, by Herodotus, related of Polycratea
kijp^ of Saoaes.

218 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PAKT T.

•washed her, by tumbling her up and down in the
ivater, that he may devour her without danger. And
Gesner affirms, — that a Polonian gentleman did faith-
fully assure him, he had seen two joung geese, at one
time, in the belly of a Pike. And doubtless a Pike, in
his height of hunger, will bite at and devour a dog that
swims in a pond ; and there have been examples of it,
or the like ; for as I told you, " The belly has no ears
" when hunger comes upon it.'*

The Pike is also observed to be a solitary, melan-
choly ; and a bold fish : melancholy, because he
always swims or rests himself alone ; and never swims
in shoals, or with company, — as Roach and Dace, and
most other fish do : and bold, because he fears not a
shadow, or to see or be seen of any body, — as the Trout
and Chub, and all other fish do.

And it is observed by Gesner, That the jaw-bones,
and hearts, and galls of Pikes, are very medicinable for
several diseases, or to stop blood, to abate fevers, to
cure agues, to oppose or expel the infection of the
plague, and to be many ways medicinable and useful
for the good of mankind : but he observes, That the
biting of a Pike is venomous, and hard to be cured.

And it is observed, that the Pike is a fish that breeds
but once a year; and that other fish, as namely
Loaches, do breed oftener : and so, we are certain, tame
Pigeons do almost every month ; and yet the Hawk, a
bird — of prey, as the Pike is a fish — breeds but once in
twelve months*. And you are to note. That his time
of breeding or spawning, is usually about the end of
Fehruarjj, — or, somewhat later, in March ; as the
Aveather proves colder or warmer : and, to note, That
his manner of breeding is thus: a He and a She-Pike
>vill, usually, go together, out of a river, into some

* Agreeable to the course of Providence observed in the production
of animals; in which the disproportion in number, between beasts
birds and fishes, of prey ^ and, those of each genus designed for the susie^
nance of man, is obvious. The Lion : and the Sheep, — the Haivk ; and
the Hen, — the S>hark : and the Herring, — are severally, in their kind*,
instances of this wonderful economy in the works of C2ture.

CITAP. VIII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 2^19

ditch or creek; anJ that, there, the spawiier casts her
eggs, and the melter hovers over her all that time that
she is casting her spawn, but touches her not *.

I might saj more of this : but it might be thought
curiosity or worse ;— and shall, therefore, forbear it;
and, take up so much of your attention, as to tell 3'ou,
That the best of Pikes are noted to l>e in rivers ; next
those, in great ponds or meres ; and the worst, in
small ponds.

But before I proceed further, I am to tell you, That
there is a great antipathy betwixt the Pike and some
frogs : and this may appear to the reader of Dubravius,
a bishop in Bohemia t , who in Lis book Of Fish and
Fish-ponds, relates what, he says, he saw with his own
eyes, and could not forbear to tell the reader. Which
was ;

" As he and the bishop Thurzo were walking by
" a large pond in Bohemia, They saw a frog — when
" the Pike lay, very sleepily and quiet, by the shore-
*^ side — leap upon his head ; and the frog, having ex-

* Very late discoveries of naturalists, contradict this hypothesis con"
cerning the generation of fishes, and prove, that they are produced by
the conjunction of the male and female, as other animals are. See
the Philosofbleal Transactionsy Vol. XLVIII. Part II. for the year 1754,
page 870,

f yanus Dubravius Scaloy hishop of Olmutz in Moravia, in the six-
teenth century ; was born at Pilsen in Bohemia. The functions of the
Bishoprick did not hinder him from being — an Ambassador into Sicily,
then into Bohemia ; and President of the chamber established to pro-
ceed against the rebels who had borne a part in the troubles of Smal-
cald. Besides the above book, (the Latin title whereof is De Piscinit
X^ Fiscium, qui in eis aluntur^ naturisj he appears, by the Bodleiaa
catalogue, to have written, in Latin, a History of Bohemia ; and an
oration to Sigismund, king of Poland, exhorting him to make war on
the Turks. He seems to have practised the ordering of fish-ponds
and the breeding of fish, both for delight and profit. Hoffman, who
in his Lexicon has given his name a place, says, he died — with the
reputation of a pious and learned prelate — in 1 553 : which last parti-
cular may admit of question ; for if it be true, it makes all his writ-
ings posthumous publications, the earliest whereof bears date «n«o 1559.

His book On Fish and Fish-ponds, in which are many pleasant rela-
tions, was, in 1599, translated into English, and published in 4to. by
George Churchey, fellow of Lion's Ini), with the title of — A neiv Book
of good Husbandry^ very pleasant and of great profit, both for gentlemen and
yeominy eontaining the order and manner of making of fish-ponds , \5fs.

220 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART U

** prest malice or anger by his swoln cheeks-and staring
** eyes, did stretch out his legs, and embraced the Pike's
*' head, and presently reached them to his eyes, tearing,
^' with them and his teeth, those tender parts : the Pike,
*^ moved with anguish, moves up and down the water,
*' and rubs himself against weeds, and whatever he
*^ thought might quit him of his enemy; but all in
*^ vain, for the frog did continue to ride triumphantly,
** and to bite and torment the Pike, till his strength
*' failed ; and then the Yrog sunk with the Pike to the
*^ bottom of the water : then, presently, the frog ap-
*' peared again at the top ; and croaked, and seemed to
*' rejoice like a conqueror ; after which, he presently
^' retired to his secret hole. The bishop, that had be-
*^ held the battle, called his fisherman to fetch his nets,
" and by all means to get the Pike, that they might
*^ declare what had happened : And the Pike was
*' drawn forth ; and both his eyes eaten out, — at which
*' when they began to wonder, the fisherman wished
'^ them to forbear, and assured them, he was certain
*' that Pikes were often so served. "

I told this, which is to be read in the sixth chapter of
the * book of Dubravius, unto a friend, who replied,
'^ It was as improbable as to have the mouse scratch out
*^ the cat's eyes." But he did not consider, that there
be Fishing-frogs, which the Dalmatians call the water-
devil, of which 1 miglit tell you as wonderful a story :—
But I shall tell you, that 'tis not to be doubted, but that
there be some frogs so fearful of the water-snake, tliat
when they swim in a place in which they fear to meet
with him, they then get a reed across into tlieir mouths ;
which, if they two meet by accident, secures the frog
from the strength and malice of the snake ; and note,
that the frog, usually, swims the fastest of the two.

And let me tell you, That as there be water and land-
frogs, so there be land and water-snakes. Concern-
ing which, take this observation, that the land-snake
breeds, and hatches, her eggs — which become young

* Walton should have said of the frst book s for: there it is to b«
found.

CHAP. VIII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER*

221

snakes— in some old dunghill, or a like hot place : but
the water-snake^ which is not venomous, and as I have
been assured by a great observer of such secrets j does
not hatch, but breed her young alive ; which she does
not then forsake, but bides with them; and in case of dan-
ger, will take them all into her mouth, and swim
away from any apprehended danger, and then let them
out again when she thinks all danger to be past : these
be accidents that we, Anglers, sometimes see, and often
talk of.

But whither am I going? I had almost lost myself,
by remembering the discourse of Dubravius. I will
therefore stop here ; and tell you, accordingly to my
promise, how to catch this

F2IEIE,

His feeding is, usually, of fish or frogs ; and, some-
times, a weed of his own called pickerel-weed,— of
which, I told you, some think some Pikes are bred ; for
thej^ have observed, that, where none have been put into
ponds, yet they have there found Many ; and that
there has been plenty of that weed in those ponds,
and [they think] that that weed both breeds and feeds
them : but whether those Pikes, so bred, will ever breed
by generation as the others do, I shall leave to the dis-
quisitions of men of more curiosity and leisure than I
profess myself to have. And shall proceed to tell you,

^^^ THE COMPLETE ANGtER. PARt I*

That you may fisb for a Pike, either with a ledger, of
a walking bait ; and you are to note, that I call that a
Ledger-bait^ which is fixed, or made to rest in one cer-
tain place when you shall be absent from if, — and I call
that a Walking-bait, which you take with you, and
have ever in motion* Concerning which two, I shall
give you this direction ; that your ledger-bait is best to
be a living bait, (though a dead one may catch,) whe-
ther it be a fish, or a frog ; And that you may make
them live the longer, you may, or indeed you must,
take this course.

First, for your live-bait. Of a. Jlsh; a roach or
dace is, I think, best and most tempting ; and a pearch
is the longest lived on a hook,~^and having cut off his
fin on his back, which may be done without hurting
him,— -you must take your knife, which cannot be too
sharp, and betwixt the head and the fin on the back,
cut or make an incision, or such a scar, as you may put
the arming wire of your hook into it, with as little
bruisiug or hurting the fisb^ as art and diligence will
enable you to do ; and so carrying your arming-wire,
along his back, unto or near the tail of your fish, be-
twixt the skin and the body of it, draw out that wire
or arming of your hook at another scar near to his tail i
then tie him about it with thready but, no harder than of
necessity, to prevent hurting the fish; and the better to
avoid hurting the fish, some have a kind of probe to
open the way, for the more easy entrance and passage
of your wire and arming: but as for these, time, and a
little experience, will teach you better than 1 can by
words. Therefore I will, for the present, say no more
of this : but come next, to give you 5ome directions how
to bait your hook with a frog,

Ven. But, good master! did you not say even
now, that some frogs were venomous; and is it not
dangerous to touch them ?

Pise, Yes, but I will give you some rules or cau-
tions concerning them. And first, you are to note.
That there are two kinds of frogs; that is to say, if I
may so express myself, a flesh and a fish-frog. By flesh-
frogs, I mean frogs that breed and live on the land;
and of these, there be several sorts, also, and of seve-

HAP. VIII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 223

ml colours, — some being speckled, some greenish, some
blackish, or brown: the green frog, which is a small
one, is, by Tops( 1, taken to be venomous ; and so is
the padock, or frog-padock, which usually keeps or
breeds on the land, and is very large and boney, and
big, especially the she-frog of that kind : yet these will
sometimes come into the water, but it is not often : And
the land- frogs are some of them observed by him, to
breed by laying eggs ; and others, to breed of the slime
and dust of the (arth, — and that in winter they turn to
slime again, — and that the next summer that very slime
returns to be a living creature ; this is
the opinion of Pliny. And * Carda- * J^» ^'^ 19'*
nus t undertakes to give a reason for the ^j^^at?^ '
raining of frogs j: : but if it wore in my
power, it should rain none but vater-frogs ; for (hose I
think are not venomous, especially the right water-frog,
which, about February or March breeds, in ditches^
by slime and blackish eggs in that sUme : about which
time of breedina', the he and she-frogs are observed to
use divers summersaults, and to croak and make a
noise, which the land-frog, or padock-frog, never
does.

Now, of these wotcr-'frogs : If you intend to fish with

a frog for a Pike, you are to choose the yellowest

that you can gct^ for that the Pike ever likes best.

. And, thus, use your frog, that he may continue long

alive :

Put your hook into his mouth — which you may
easily do from the middle of April till August; and,
then, the frog's mouth grows up, and he continues
so for at least six months without eating, but is
sustained, none, but he whose name is Wonderful,

f Hieronymus Cardanus, an Ttalian physician, naturalist, and astrologer,
well known by the many works he has published : he died at Rome 1576.
It is said that he had foretold the day of his death ; and that, when it ap-
proached, he suffered himself to die of hunger to preserve his reputation.
He had been in England, and wrote a character of our Edward VI.

I There are many well a):tested accounts of the raining of frogs : but
Mr. Ray rejects them as utterly false and ridiculous ; and demonstrates
the impossibility of their production in any such manner. Wisdom of God
in tin Crtatie::, 3 1 0« See also Derham's FJbyt. Tbeol 244.

O

gg4 THE eOMFLETE ANGLElt» PART I.

knows how— I say, put jour hook, I mean the arming-
wire, through his mouth, and out at his gills; and,
then, with a fine needle and silk sow the upper part of
his leg, with only one stitch, to the arming-wire of your
hook, — or tie the frog's leg, above the upper joint, to the
armed-wire, — and, in so doing, use him as though you
loved him, that is, harm him as little as you may pos-
sibly, that he may live the longer.

And now, having given you this direction for the
baiting your ledger-hook with a live fish or frog, —
my next must be to tell you, how your hook thus
baited must or may be used ; and it is thus : Hav-
ing fastened your hook to a line — which, if it be
not fourteen yards long, should not be less than
twelve — you aire to fasten that line to any bough
near to a hole where a Pike is, or is likely to lie,
or to have a haunt ; and then wind your line on
any forked stick — all your line, except half a yard
of it or rather more — and split that forked stick,
vith such a nick or notch at one end of it, as may
- ^ep the line from any more of it ravelling from
alout the stick than so much of it as you intend.
Aid choose your forked stick to be of that bigness as
mav keej) tiie fish, or frog, from pulling the forked
stick under the water till the Pike bites ; and, then,
the Pike having pulled the line forth-of the cleft or
nick of that stick in which it was gently fastened, he
will ave line enough to go to his hold and pouch
the b. »t. And if you would have this ledger-bait to
keep, ? t a fixt place, undisturbed by wind or other
accidents which may drive it to the shore side; (for
you are o note, that it is likeliest to catch a Pike
in the mi st of the water;) then hang a small plum-
met of k 1 — a stone, or piece of tile, or a turf — in a
string, ana. cast it into the water, with the forked
stick, to har 5 upon the ground, to be a kind of anchor
to keep the 'brked stick from moving out of your in-
tended place till the Pike come : This I take to be a very
good way to use, so many ledger-baits as you intend to
make trial of.

Or if you bait your hooks, thus, with live-fish or

f^HAP. Till, THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 225

frogs ; and in a windy day, fasten them, tLus, to
a bough or bundle of straw, — and by the help of that
wind can get them to move cross a pond or mere;
you are like to stand still on the shore and see sport,
presently, if there be any store of Pikes. Or, these
live-baits may make sport, being tied about the body
or wings of a goose or duck, and she chased over a
pond*. And the like may be done, with turning
three or four live-baits — thus fastened to bladders, or
boughs, or bottles of hay or flags — to swim down a
river, whilst you walk quietly alone on the shore,
and are still, in expectation of sport. The rest must
be taught you by practice; for time will not allow
me to say more of this kind of fishing with live-baits.

And for your dead-bait for a Pike. For that :
you may be taught by one day's going a fishing with
me, or any other body that fishes for him; for the
baiting your hook with a dead gudgeon or a roach,
and moving it up and down the water, is too easy a
thing to take up any time to direct you to do it. _.
And yety because I cut you short in that, I will comraiite ^^
for it by telling you that that was told me for a secret : -
it is this :

Dissolve gum of ivy, in oil of spike: and there*^"
with anoint your dead-bait for a Pike ; and then ca§t
it into a likely place, — and when it has lain a short
time at the bottom, draw it towards the top of the
water, and so up the stream, and it is more than lilfr Ty
that you have a Pike follow with more than con^^.^on
eagerness. ^

♦ A rod twelve feet long, and a ring of wire,

A winder and barrel, will help thy desire '

In killing a Pike : but the forked stick, f>*

With a slit and a bladder, — and that other line trick^.^^^

Which our artists call snap, with a goose or a duck,—, '

Will kill two for one, if you have any luck ;

The gentry of Shropshire do merrily smile, j'

To see a goose and a belt the fish to beguile. ^

When a Pike suns himself, and afrogging doth gc^

The two-inched hook is better, I know,

Than the ord'nary snaring. But still I must cry,

* When the Pike it at home, mind the cookery."

Barker*# Art of Angling.

o 2

5^ THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I,

And some affirm, Tliat any bait anointed willi tbe
marrow of the thigh-bone of an bern, is a great temp-
tation to any fish.

These have not been tried by me ; but told me
by a friend of note that pretended to do me a
courtesy*. But if this direction to catch a Pike,

* The Pike loves a still, shady, unfrequented water, and usually
lies amongst, or near weeds ; such as flags, bulrushes, candocks, reeds,
or in the green fog that sometimes covers standing waters, though he
will sometimes shoot out into the clear stream. He is, sometimes, caught
at the top ; and in the middle ; and often, especially in cold weather,
at the bottom.

Their time of spawning, is about the end of February or the begmning
of March ; and, chief season^ from the end of May to the beginning of
February.

Pikes are called facksy till they become twenty-four inches long.

The baits for Pike, besides those mentioned by- Walton ; are a small
trout ; the loach and millers-thumb ; the head end of an eel, with the
skin taken oif below the fins; a small jack; a lob-woi-m; and, in winter,
the fat of bacon. And; notwithstanding what Walton and others say
against baiting with a pearch, it is confidently asserted, that Pikes have
been taken with a small pearch, when neither a roach nor bleak would
tempt them. See the Angier^s sure Guide , 158.

Observe that all your baits for Pike must be as fresh as possible.
Living baits you may take with you in a tin kettle, changing the
water often: and dead ones should be carried in fresh bran, which
will dry up that moisture that otherwise would infect and rot them.
Venables.

It is strange that Walton has said so little of Trolling ; a method of
fishing for Pike, which has been thought worthy of a distinct treatise ;
for which method, and for the snap, take these directions ; aud first for
trolling:

And note that, in trolling, the head of the bait-fish must be at the
bent of the hook ; wheteas, in fishing at the snap, the hook must come-
out at or near his tail. But the^ essential difference between these two
methods is. That, in the former, the Pike is always suffered to pouch
or swallow the bait ; but, in the latter, you are to strike as soon as he has
taken it.

The rod for trolling should be about three yards and a half long, with a
ring at the top for the line to run through ; or you may fit a trolling-top
to your fly-rod, which need, only, be stronger than the common fly-top.

Let your line be of green or sky-coloured silk, thirty yards in length,
which will make it necessary to use the winch, as is before directed, with
a swivel at the end.

The common troUing-hook for a living bait, consists of two large hooks,
with one common shank, made of one piece of wire, of about three quar-
ters of an inch long, placed back to back, so that the points may not stand
in the right line, but incline so much inwards, as that they with the shank
may form an angle little less than equilateral. At the top of the shank is
a loop — left in the bending the wire to make the hook double — through
■which is put a strong twisted brass wire, of about six inches long ; and t»

CHAP. VIII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 227

thus, do you no good, — yet I am certain this direction,
Ho.v to roast birn Avhen he is caught, is choicely

this is looped another such link, but both so loose that the hook and the
lower link may have room to play. To the end of the line, fasten a steel
swivel.

To &ait the hook, observe the directions given by V/alton.

But there is a sort of trolling-hook — different from that already de-
scribed, and to which it is thought preferable — wliichwill require another
management : this is no more than two single hooks tied back to back with
a strong piece of gimp between the shanks. In the whipping the hooks
and the gimp together, make a small loop ; and take into it two links of
chain of about an eighth of an inch diameter, — and into tlie lower link,
by means of a small staple of wire, fasten, by the greater end, a bit of lead
of a conical figure, and somewhat sharp at the point. 'I'hese hooks are to
be had at the fishing-tackle shops ready fitted up ; but see the lorm of
them Plate XI. Fig. 5.

This latter kind of hook is to be thus ordered, viz. put the lead into the
mouth of the bait-fish, and sew it up ; the fish will live some time ;
and though the weight of the lead will keep his head down, he will swim
with near the same ease as if at liberty.

But if you troll with a dead-bait — as some do, for a reason which the
angler will be glad to know, -viz. that a living bait makes too great a
slaughter among the fish — do- it With a ht)ok, of which the following
paragraph contains a description.

Let the shank be about six inches long, and leaded, from the middle,
as low as the bent of the hook, to which a piece of very strong gimp
must be fastened by a staple, and two links of chain ; the shank must be
barbed like a dart, and the lead a quarter of an inch square : the barb of
the shank must stand like the fluke of an anchor, which is placed in a con-
trary direction to that of the stock. See Plate XI. Fig. 6. Let the gimp
be about a foot long; and to the ej^d thereof fix a swivel. To. bait it,—
thrust the barb of the shank into the mouth of the bait-fish, and bring it
out at his side near the tail: when the barb is thus brought through, it
cannot return, and the fish will lie perfectly strait, a circumstance that
renders the trouble of tying the tail unnecessary.

There is yet another sort of trolling-hook — which is, indeed, no other
than what most writers on this subject have mentioned ; whereas the
others, here described, are late improvements — and this is a hook, either
single or double, with a long shank, leaded about three inches up the
wire with a piece of lead about a quarter of an ihch square at the
greater or lower end; fix to the shank an armed-wire about eight
inches long. To bait this hook, thrust your wire into the mouth
of the fish, quite through his belly, and out at his tail; placing the
wire so as that the point of the hook may be even with the belly of
the bait fish ; and then tie the tail of the fish with strong thread to the
wire, — some fasten it with a needle and thread, which is a neat way.

Both with the Troll and at the Snap, cut away one of the fin» of
the bait-fish close at the gills, and another behind the vent on the
contrary side ; which will make it play the better.

The bait being thus fixed, is to be thrown in, and kept in constant
motion in the water, sometimes suffered to sink, then gradually raised ;
tow drawn with the stream, and then against it ; so as to counterfeit the

o 3

S28 THE COMPLETE ANGLER, PART I,

good ; for I have tried it, and it is somewliat the better
for not being common. But with my direction you

motion of a small fish in swimming. If a Pike is near, he mistakes the
b'cilt for a living fish, seizes it with prodigious greediness, goes off with
it to his hole, and in about ten minutes pouches it. When he has thus
swallowed the bait, you will see the line move ; which is the signal for
striking him; do this with two lusty jerks, and then play him.
The other way of taking Pike, viz, with the Snap, is as follows:
Let the rod be twelve feet long, very strong and taper, with a strong
loop at the top to fasten your line to. Your line must be about a foot
shorter than the rod, and much stronger than the trolling-line.

And here it is necessary to be remembered, that there are two ways of
snapping for Pike, viz. with the Live and with the Dead-snap.

For the Live-snap, there is no kind of hook so proper as the double
spring hook; the form whereof in two views, is given in Plate Xk Fig. 7
and 8. To bait it, nothing more is necessary than to hang the bait-fish
fast, by the back fin to the middle hook, where he will live a long time.
5^1? the last paragraph on the preceding page.

Of hooks for the Dead-snap, there are many kinds. Fig. 9, of Plate XL
is a representation of one, which after repeated trials has been found to
excel all others hitherto known ; the description and use of it is as follows,
v/z. Whip two hooks, of about three eighths of an inch in the bent, to a
piece of gimp, in the manner directed for that troUing-hook a view of
which is given in Plate XL Fig. 5. Then take a piece of lead, of the
same size and figure as directed for the troUing-hook above-mentioned \
and drill a hole through it from end to end : To bait it, take a long needle,
or wire ; enter it in at the side, about half an inch above the tail, and
with it pass the gimp between the skin and the ribs of the fish, bringing
it out at his mouth ; then put the lead over the gimp, dra\v it down into
the fish's throat, and press his mouth close, and then, having a swivel to
your line, hang on the gimp.

In-throwing the bait, observe the rules given for trolling ; but remem-
ber, that the more you keep it in motion, the nearer it resembles a living
fish.

When you have a bite, strike immediately the contrai-y way to that
which the head of the Pike lies, or to which he goes with the bait ; if you
Connot find which way his head lies, strike upright with two smart jerks,
retiring backwards as fast as you can, till you have brought him to a
landing place, and then do as before is directed.

There are various other methods, both of trolling and fishing at the snap*,
which, if the reader is desirous to know, he may find described in the
Complete Trailer, by Ro. Nobbes, 12mo. 1682, and the Angler s sure Guidt^
before-mentioned, [and in Howitt's Angler s Manual, 1808.]

As the Pike spawns in March, and before that month rivers are seldom
in order for fishing, it will hardly be worth while to begin trolling till
April : after that, the weeds will be apt to be troublesome. But the prime
month in the year for trolling, is October ; when the Pike are fattened by
their summer's feed, the weeds are rotted, and by the falling of the watery
the harbours of the fish are easily found.

Choose to troll in clear, and not muddy water, — and in windy weatherj^
if the wind be not easterly.

Some use, in trolling and snapping, two or more swivels to their line, by

CHAP. VIII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 229

must take this caution, that your Pike must not be a
small one, that is, it must be more than half a yard,
and sliould be bigger.

First, open your Pike at (he gills, and if need be, cut
also a little slit towards the belly. Out of these, take
his guts. And keep his liver ; which you are to shred,
very small, with thyme, sweet marjoram, and a little
winter-savoury, — to these put some pickled oysters, and
iome anchovies, two or three, both these last whole, for
the anchovi !s will melt, and the oysters should not ; to
these you must add also a pound of sweet butter, which
you are to mix with the herbs that are shred, arid let
them all be well salted : If the Pike be more than a
yard long, then you may put into these herbs more
than a poutid, or if he be less, then less butter will
suffice : These being thus mixt, with a blade or two
of mace, must be put into the Pike's belly ; and then,
his belly so sewed up, as to keep all the butter in his
belly if it be possible, — if not, then as much of it as
you possibly can. But take not off the scales. Then
you are to thrust the spit through his mouth, out
at his tail. And then take four or five or six split
sticks, or very thin laths, and a convenient quantity
of tape or filleting; these laths are to be tied round
about the Pike's body from his head to his tail, and

means whereof the twisting of the line is prevented, the bait plays more
freely, and, though dead, is made to appear as if alive ; which, in rivers, is
doubtless an excellent way : but those who can like to fish in ponds or still
waters, will find very little occasion for more than one.

The Ptie is also to ie caught •with a minnoiv ; for wlfich method take the
following directions :

Get a single hook, slender, and long in the shank ; let it resemble the
shape of a shepherd's crook; put lead upon it, as thick near the bent at
will go into the minnow's mouth ; place the point of the hook directly up
tho face of the fish. Let the rod be as long as you can handsomely
manage, with a line of the same length. Cast up and down, and manage
it as when you troll with any other bait. If, when the Pike hath taken
your bait, he run to the end of the line before he hath gorged it, do not
strike, but hold still only, and he will return back and swallow it. But if
you use that bait with a troll, I rather prefer it before any bait that I
know. Venables.

In landing a Pike, great caution is necessary ; for his bite is esteemed
venomous. The best and safest hold you can take of him, it by the head,
«) doing which, place your thumb and finger in his eyes.

o4

THE COMPLETE ANGLER>. PART !•

the tape tied somewhat thick, to prevent his breaking
or falling off from the spit. Let him be roasted very
leisurely ; and often basted with claret wine, and an-
chovies, and butter mixt together,— and also with what
moisture falls from him into the pan. When you have
roasted him sufficiently, — you are to hold under him,
when you unwind or cut the tape that ties him, such a
dish as you purpose -to eat him out of ; and let him
fall into it with the sauce that is roasted in his belly ;
and by this means the Pike will be kept uubroken and
complete. Then, to the sauce which was within, and
also that sauce in the ppn, you are to add a tit quantity
of the best butter, and to squeeze the juice of three or
four oranges. Lastly, you may, Either put into the
Pike, with the oysters, two cloves of garlick, and take
it whole out, when the Pike is cut off the spit : Or, to
give the sauce a hogoo, let the dish into which you let
the Pike foil, be rubbed with it : The using or not usin^^
of this garlick is left to your discretion.

M. B.

This dish of meat is too good for any but anglers, or
very honest men ; and I trust, you will prove both, and
therefore I have trusted you with this secret.

Let me next tell you, that Gesuer tells us, tliere are
no Pikes in Spain, and that the largest are in the lake
Thrasymene in Italy ; and the next, if not equal to
them, are the Pikes of England ; and that in England,
Lincolnshire bo steth to have the biggest. Just so
doth Sussex boast of four sorts of fish, namely
. ^ an Arundel Mullet, a Chichester Lob-
saidbrfore, Tn stcr, a Shclsey Cockle, and an Amer-
aaj,. IK ley Trout-

But I will take up rio more of your time with this
relation, but proceed to give you some Observations
of the Carp, — and how to angle for him, — and tq
dress him, but not till he is caught.

THE COMPLETE ANGLEB. 231

CHAPTER IX.

Qhs^rvations of the Carp ; with Directions how to
Jish for him.

PlSCATOR.

THE Carp is the queen of rivers ; a stalely, a good,
and a very subtil fish ; that was not at first bred, nor
hath been long in England, but is now naturalized.
It is said, they were brousiht hither by one Mr. Mascal,
a gentleman that then l.ved at Piiimsted in Sussex,
a county* that abounds more with this fish than
any in this nation.

You may remember that, I told you Gesner says,
there arc no Pikes in Spain ; and doubtless, there was
a time, about a hundred or a few more years ago,
>vhen th( re were no Carps in England, as may seem
to be affirmed by Sir Richard Baker, in whose ChrO'*
nicle you may find these verses :

Hops and turkies, carps and beer.
Came into England all in a j'ear f •

* For proof of this fact, we have the testimony of the Author of the
Booke of Fishing luith Hooke and 'Line mentioned m the foregoing Life of
Walton ; who, though the initials only of his name are j^iven in the title,
appears to have been Leonard Mascall, the translator of a book of Planting
and Graffin^, 4/o. 158J>, 1599, and the Author of a book On Cattely 4to,
1596. Fuller in his Worthies, Sussex^ 1 13, ?eems to have confounded these
^wo persons; the latter qf whom, in the tract first above-mentioned,
jpeaks of the former by report only : besides which, they lived at the di-
. stance of seventy years from each other, and the Author of the book Of
Fishing is conjectured to be a Hampshire man.

f See, in the Lfe of Walton hereto prefixed, a passage extracted
from the book of D^ime Juliana Barnes; whereby it appears that in her
time there were Carps, though but few, in England. It seems, therefore,
^hat Mr. Mascall of Plumsted, did not first bring hither Carps : but, a»
^e curious in gardening do by exotic plants, he naturalized this species

932 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

And, doubtless; as, of sea- fish, the Herring dies
soonest out of the water, — and, of fresh- water- fish,
the Trout ; so, except the Eel, the Carp endures
most hardness, and lives longest out of his own
proper element. And, therefore, the report of the
Carp's being brought out of a foreign country into
this nation, is the more probable.

Carps and Loaches are observed to breed several
months, in one year ; wliich Pikes and most other
fish do not. And this is partly proved, by tame
and wild rabbits; as also by some ducks, which
will lay eggs nine of the twelve months, — and yet
there be other ducks that lay not longer than about
one month. And it is the rather to be believed ;
because you shall scarce, or never, take a male Carp
without a melt, or a female without a roe or spawn,
and for the most part very much, and especially all
the summer season. And it is observed, that they
breed more naturally in ponds, than in running waters,
if they breed there at all; and that those that live
in rivers, are taken by men of the best palates to
be much the better meat.

And it is observed, that in some ponds Carps will
not breed, especially in cold ponds : but where they
will breed, they breed innumerably : Aristotle and
Pliny say, six times in a year ; if there be no Pikes
nor Pearch, to devour their spawn, — when it is cast
upon grass or flags, or weeds, where it lies ten or
twelve days before it be enlivened.

The Carp, if he have water-room and good feed ;
will grow to a very great bigness and length, I have
heard, to be much above ♦a yard long*. It is said

of fish ; and, that, about the ara mentioned in the above distich," Hops and
•* turkies," is'c. which elsewhere is read thus :

Hops, reformation, turkies, carps, and beer.
Came into England all in one year.

* A lady now living, the widow of the late Mr. David Garrick of
Drury-lane theatre, once told me, that in her native country, Germany,
»he had seen the head of a Carp served up at table, big enough to fiU a large

CHAP. IX. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 235

byJovius* who hath writ of fishes, that in the lake
Lurian in Italy, Carps have thriven to be more than
fifty pounds weight; which is the more probable,
for, as the bear is conceived, and born suddenly,—
and, being born, is but short-lived ; so, on the con-
trary, the elephant is said to be two years in his
dam's belly, some think he is ten years in it, and
being born, grows in bigness twenty years ; and it
is observed too, that he lives to the age of an hundred
years. And it is also observed, that the crocodile is
very long-lived ; and (more than thai) that, all that
long life, he thrives in bigness : and so I think somo
Carps do, especially in some places,— though I never
saw one above twenty-three inches, which was a great
and a goodly fish ; but have been assured there are,,
of a far greater size, and in England too +.

Now, as the increase of Carps is wonderful, for their
number ; so there is not a reason found out, I think,
by any, Why they should breed in some ponds, —
and not in others, of the same nature for soil and all
other circumstances. And as their breeding, so are
their decays also very mysterious: I have both read
it, and been told by a gentleman of tried honesty,
that he has known sixty or more large Carps put
into several ponds near to a house, where — by reason
of the stakes in the ponds, and the owner's constant
being near to ihem—it was impossible they should
be stole away from him ; and that when he has, after
three or four years, emptied the pond, and expected
an increase from them by breeding young ones — for,
that they might do so, he had, as the rule is, put
in three raelters for one spawner — he has, I say,
after three or four years, found neither a young nor
old Carp remaining. And the like I have known,
of one that has almost watched the pond, and, at a

* Paultis Jovius, an Italian historian, of very doubtful authority : he
lived in the 16th century; and wrote a small tract De Romanis Piscibus.
He died at Florence, 1552.

f The author of the Angler s sure Guide says, that he has taken Carp
above twenty-six inches long, in rivers; and adds, that they ar« ofteft
|een in E^igland above thirty inches lon^.

SS4 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

like distance of time, at the fishing of a pond, found,
of seventy or eighty large Cnrps, not above five or
six : And that he had forborn longer to fish the
said pond, but that he saw, in a hot day in summer,
a large Carp sNvira near the top of the water with
a frog upon his head ^ and that he, upon that occa-
sion, caused his pond lo be let dry: and I say, of
seventy or eighty Carps, only faund five or six in
the said pond, and those yory sick and lean, and with
every one a frog sticking so fast on the head of the
said Carps, that the frog would not be got off without
extreme force or killing. And the gentleman that
did affirm this to me, told me he saw it ; and did
declare his belief to be, and I also believe the same,
that he thought the other Carps, that were so strangely
lost, were, so, killed by frogs ; and, then, devoured.

And a person of honour, now living in Worcester-
shire, assured me he had seen a necklace, or collar
of tadpoles, hang like a chain or necklace of beads
about a Pike's neck, and to kill him: Whether it
were for meat or malice ; must be, to me, a question.

But I am fallen into this discourse by accident :
of which I might say more, — but it has proved
longer than I intended, and possibly may not to you
be considerable : 1 shall, therefore, give you three
or four more short observations of the Carp, and
then fall upon some directions. How you shall fish
for him.

The age of Carps is by Sir Francis Bacon, in
his History of Life and Deaths observed to be but
ten years: yet others think they live longer. Gesner
says a Carp has been known to live in the Palatinate
above a hundred years*. But most conclude, that,
contrary to the Pike or Luce, all Carps are the better
for age and bigness. The tongues of Carps are noted
to be choice, and costly meat, especially to them that

* Lately, -viz. in one of the daily papers for the month of August, 1782,
an article appeared, purporting, that in the bason at Emanuel College
Cambridge, a Carp was then living that had been in that water thirty-six
years ; which, though it had lost one eye, knew, and would constantly
approach, its feeder.

CHAP. IX. THE COMPLETE ANGLEH. 9S5

buy them : but Gesner says, Carps have no tongue
like other fish, but a piece of flesh-like fish in their
mouth like to a tongue, and should be called a palate:
But it is certain it is choicely good: and that the
Carp is to be reckoned amongst those leather- mouthed
fish which, I told you, have their teeth in their
throat; and for that reason, he is very seldom lost
by breaking his hold, if your hook be once stuck into
his chaps.

I told you that Sir Francis Bacon thinks, that the
Carp lives but ten years : but Janus Diibravius has
writ a book Of fish and fish-ponds* ^ in which he saysj
that Carps begin to spawn at the age of three years,
and continue to do so till thirty : he says also, that in
the time of their breeding, which is in summer — when
the sun hath warmed both the earth and water, and so
apted, them also, for generation — that, then, three or
four male Carps will follow a female ; and that, then,
she putting on a seeming coyness, th(^y force her
through weeds and flags ; where she lets fall her
eggs or spawn, which sticks fast to the weeds; and
then they let fall their melt upon it, and so it becomes
in a short time to be a living fish : And, as I told
you, it is thought the Carp does this several months in
the year. And most believe, that most fish breed 'after
this manner, except the Eel. And it has been observed,
that when the spawner has weakened herself by doing
that natural office, that two or three melters have
helped het from ofi* the weeds by bearing her up on
both sides, and guarding her into the deep. And you
may note, that though this may seem a curiosity not
^ortli observing, — yet others have judged it worth
their time and costs, to make glass hives, and order
them in such a manner as to see how bees have bred
and made their honey-combs, and how they have
obeyed their king, and governed their commonwealth.
But it is thought, that all Carps are not bred by
generation ; but that some breed other ways, as some
Irikes do.

The physicians make the galls and stones in the
heads of Carps to be very medicinable. But it is not

♦ ^i(/p,««/<, page 219.

ise

THE COMPLETE ANGLER*

PAAT t,

to be doubted, but that in Italy they make great pro-
fit of the spawn of Carps, by selling it to the Jews^
who make it into red caviare j — the Jews not being by
their law admitted to eat of caviare made of the
Sturgeon, that being a fish that wants scales, and, as
may appear in Levit, xi. by them reputed to be
unclean.

Much more might be said out of him, and out of
Aristotle, which Dubrayius often quotes in his JMs»
course of Jishes : but it might rather perplex than
satisfy you ; and, therefore, I shall rather choose to
direct you, How to catch, than spend more time in
discoursing either of the nature or the breeding of
this

i)t of any more circumstances concerning him. But
yet I shall remember you of what I told you before,
that he is a very subtil fish, and hard to be caught.

And my first direction is, that if you will fish for
a Carp, you must put on a very large measure of
patience, especially to fish for a river Carp : I have
known a very good fisher angle, diligently, four or
six hours in a day, for three or four days together, for a
liver Carp, and not have a bite. And you are to
note, that in some ponds, it is as hard to catch a Carp
as in a river ; that is to say, where they have store
of feed, and the water is of a clayish colour. But

CHAP. IX. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 237

you are to remember, that I have told you there
is no rule without an exception ; and, therefore, be-
ing possest with that hope and patience which I
wish to all fishers, especially to the Carp-angler, I
shall tell you with what bait to fish for him. But
first, yon are to know, that it must be either early,
or late; and lot me tell you, that, in hot weather,
for he will seldom bite in cold, you cannot be too
early, or too late, at it. And some have been so cu-
rious as to say, the tenth of April is a fatal day for
Carps.

The Carp bites either at worms, or at paste : And of
worms, I think the bluish marsh or meadow-worm is
best ; but possibly another worm, not too big, may do
as well, — and so may a green gentle : And as for pastes,
there are almost as many sorts as there are medicines
for the tooth-ache : But doubtless sweet pastes are best ;
I mean, pastes made with lioney or with, sugar:
Which, that you may the better beguile this crafty fish,
should be thrown into the pond or place in which you.
fish for him, some hours, or longer, before you under-
take your trial of skill with the angle-rod; and,
doubtless, if it be thrown into the water, a day or two
before, at several times, and in small pellets, — you are
the likelier, when you fish for the Carp, to obtain your
desired s^ort. Or, in a large pond — to draw them to
any certain place, that they may be better and with
more hope be fished-for — ^you are to throw into it, in
some certain place, either grains or, blood mixt with
cow-dung or with bran; or any garbage, as chicken'*
guts or the like ; and, then, some of your small sweet
pellets with which you purpose to angle : And thes#
small pellets being, a few of them, also thrown in as
you are angling, will be the better.

And your paste must be thus made: Take the flesH
of a rabbit, or a cat, cut small ; and bean-flour ; and
if that may not be easily got, get other flour ; and,
then, mix these together: and put to them either sugar,
or honey which I think better : and then beat these to-
gether in a mortar, — or, sometimes, work them in your
Sands, your hands being very clean ; and then make it

238 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART 1.

into a ball — or two, or three, as you like best — for your
use': But you must work, or pound, it so long in the
mortar, as to make it so tough as to hang upon your
hook without washing from ii, yet not too hard : Or,
that you may the better keep it on your hook, you
may knead with your paste a little, and not mucbj
white or yellowish wool.

And if you would have this paste keep all the year,
for any other fish, — then mix with it virgin-wax and
clarified honey ; and work them together, with your
hands, before the fire ; then make these into balls, and
they will keep all the year. •

And if you fish for a Carp with gentles, — tlien, put
upon your hook a small piece of scarlet about this big-
ness f^ it being soaked in, or anointed with oil of
petre, called by some oil of the rock : and if your gen-
tles be put, two or three days before, into a box, or
horn, anointed with honey ; and so put upon your
hook as to preserve them to be living, — you are as like,
to kill this crafty fish, this way as any other: but, still,
as you are fishing, chew a little white or brown bread in
your mouth, and cast it into the pond about the place
where j^our float swims. Other baits there be : but
these with diligence and patient watchfulness, will do
better than any that I have ever practised or heard of.

And yet 1 shall tell you. That the crumbs of white
bread and honey made into a paste, is a good bait for
a Carp ; and, you know, it is more easily made*. And
having said thus much of the Carp t, my next dis-

* And see a bait that serves likewise for the Bream, in the next
chapter. Editor.

f The haunts of the river Carp are, — in the winter months, thd
broadest and most quiet parts of the river: but in summer, they lie
in deep holes, nooks, and reaches, near some scour, — and under roots
of trees, hollow banks, — and, till they are near rotting, amongst or
near great beds of weeds, flags, Iffc.

Pond Carp cannot, with propriety, be said to have any haunts i
only it is to be noted, that they love a fat rich soil, and never thrive
in a cold hungry water.

They breed three or four times a year : but their first spawning-time
is the beginning of May.

Baits for the Carp are, — all sorts of earth and dunghill-worms,
flag-Worms; grashoppers, though not at top; ox-brains, ^the pith of

CHAP. IX. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. !^3§

course shall be of the Bream, which shall not prove so
tedious ; and therefore I desire the continuance of your
attention.

But, first, I will tell you, How to make this Carp,
that is so curious to be caught, so curious a dish of meat
as shall make him worth all your labour and patience.
And though it is not without some trouble, and charges ;
yet, it will recompense both.

Take a Carp, alive if possible : scour him, and rub
him clean, with water and salt, but scale him not : then
open him; and put him, with his blood and his liver,
which you must save when you open him, into a small
pot or kettle: then take sweet marjoram, thyme and
parsley, of each half a handful; a sprig of rosemary,
and another of savoury ; bind them into two or three
small bundles ; and put them to your Carp, with four
or five whole onions, twenty pickled oysters, and three
anchovies. Then pour upon your Carp as much
claret wine as will only cover him ; and season your
claret well with salt, cloves, and mace, and the rinds of
oranges and lemons. That done, cover your pot and
set it on a quick fire, till it be sufiiciently boiled. Then
take out the Carp; and lay it, with the broth, into the
dish ; and pour upon it a quarter of a pound of the
best fresh butter,— -melted, and beaten with half a dozen
spoonfuls of the broth, the yolks of two or three eggs,
and some of the herbs shred : Garnish your dish with
lemons, and so serve it up. And much good, do you !

Dr. T.

an ox's back-bone ; green-pease ; and red or black cherries, with the
•tones taken out.

Fish with strong tackle — very near the bottom — and with a fine
grass, or gut, next the hook; and use a goose-quUl float. Never at-
tempt to angle for the Carp in a boat; for they will not come
near it.

It is said there are many Carp in the Thames, westward of Lon-
don ; and that, about February, they retire to the creeks in that ri-
ver; in some of which, many above two feet long have been taken
with an angle. Auglers sure Guide, 179.

Carp live the longest out of water of any fish. It is a common

Eractice in Holland,— to keep them aUve, for three weeks or a month,
y hanging them in a cool place, with wet moit in a net, and feed-
ing them with bread and milk.

f40 TttB COMPLETE ANGLER* PAllT 1.

CHAPTER X.

Observations on the Bream, and Directions how to
catch him,

PiSCATOn.

THE Bream, being at a full growth, is a large and
stately fisb. He will breed, both in rivers and ponds;
but loves, best, to live in ponds, — and where, if lie likes
the water and air, he will grow not only to be. very
large, but as fat as a hog. He is by Gesner taken to be
more pleasant, or sweet, than wholesome. This fish is
long in growing : but breeds exceedingly in a water
that pleases him ; yea, in many ponds so fast, as to over-
store them, and starve the other fish.

He is very broad, with a forked tail, and his scales set
in excellent order; he hath large eyes, and a narrow
sucking mouth ; he hath two sets of teeth, and a lozenge-
like bone, a bone to help his grinding. The melter is
observed to have two large melts ; and the female, two
large bags of eggs or spawn.

Gesner reports : that, in Poland, a certain and a great
number of large Breams were put into a pond ; which,
in the next following winter, were frozen up into one
entire ice, and not one drop of water remaining, nor
one of these fish to be found, though they were diligently
searched for; and yet, the next spring, when the ice
was thawed, and the weather warm, and fresh water
got into the pond, he affirms they all appeared again.
This Gesner affirms; and I quote my author, — because
it seems almost as incredible as the resurrection to an
atheist: but it may win something, in point of believing
it — to him that considers the breeding or renovation of
the silk-worm, and of many insects. And that is
considerable, which Sir Francis Bacon observes in his
Histori/ of Life and Death^ fol. 20. that there be som«

CHAP. X,

THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

241

Jierbs that die and spring every year, and some endure
longer.

But though some do not— yet the French esteem this
fish, highly ; and to that end, have this proverb, '^ He
*' that hath Breams in his pond, is able to bid his
*' friend welcome." And it is noted, that the best part
of a Bream is his belly and head.

Some say, that Breams and Roaches will mix their
eggs and melt, together; and, so, there is, in many
places, a bastard breed of Breams, that never come to
be either large or good, but very numerous.

The baits good to catch this

BREAM.

are many. First ^ Paste made of brown bread and
honey ; gentles, — or the brood of wasps that be young,
and then not unlike gentles, and should be hardened in
an oven, or dried on a tile before the fire to make them
tough. Or, there is, at the root of docks or flags or
rushes, in watery places, a worm not unlike a maggot ;
at which Tench [Bream] will bite freely. Or, he will
bite — at a grashopper with his legs nipt ofl>— in June
and July : or, at several flies — underwater— which may
be found on flags that grow near to the water-side. I
doubt not but that there be many other baits that are
good; but I will turn them all into this most excel

g42 TfaE COMPLETE ANGLER. PAItt t,

lent one, either for a Carp or Bream, in any
river or mere : it was given to me by a most honest
and excellent angler ; and hoping you will prove both,
I will impart it to you.

1 . Let your bait be as big a red worm as you can
find, without a knot : Get a pint, or quart, of them, in
an evening, in garden-walks, or chalky commons, after
a shower of rain ; and put them — with clean moss well
washed and picked, and the water squeezed out of the
moss as dry as you can — into an earthen pot or pip-
kin set dry; and change the moss, fresh, every three
or four days, for three weeks or a month together,
— then your bait will be at the best, for it will be clear
and lively.

2. Having thus prepared your baits, s^ei your tack-
ling ready and fitted tor this sport. Take tliree long
angling-rods; and as many, and more, silk, or silk and
hair, lines; and as many large swan, or goose-qnill

floats. Then take a piece of lead made
after this manner; and fasten them to the
low ends of your lines: — Tlien fasten
your link-hook also to the lead ; and
let there be about a foot or ten inches,
between the lead and the hook : — But be sure the lead
be heavy enough to sink the float, or quill, a little un-
der the water; and not the quill, to bear up the lead,
for the lead must lie on the ground. Note, that your
link next the hook may be smaller than the rest of your
line — if you dare adventure, for fear of taking the Pike
or Pearch, who will assuredly visit your hooks, till
they be taken out as I will shew you afterwards, before
either Carp or Bream will come near to bite. Note also,
that when the worm is well baited, it will crawl up and
down as far as the lead will give leave, which much en-
ticeth the fish to bite without suspicion.
' 3, Having thus prepared your baits, and fitted your
tackling : repair to the river— where you have seen
them swim in skulls, or shoals— in the summer-time, in
a hot afternoon, about three or four of the clock; and
watch their going forth of tiieir deep holes, and return-
ing, which you may well discern, — for they return
about four of the clock, most of them seeking food at

CHAP. X. THE COMPLETB ANGLER* 243

the bottom, yet one or two will lie oq the <op of the
"water, rolling and tumbling themselves whilsl the rest
are under him at the bottom ; and so you shall perceive
him to keep centinel : then mark where he plays most,
and stays longest, which commonly is in the broadest
and deepest place of the river, — and there, or near there-
abouts, at a clear bottom and a convenient landing
place, take one of your angles ready fitted as aforesaid,
and sound the bottom, which should be about eight or
ten feet deep ; two yards from the bank is best. Then
consider with yourself, whether that water will rise or
fall by the next morning, by reason of any water-mills
near; and, according to your discretion, take the depth
of the place — where you mean, after, to cast your
ground-bait, and to fish — (o half an inch ; that, the
lead lying on or near the ground-bait, the top of
the float may only appear upright half an inch above
the water.

Thus you having found and fitted, for the place and
depth thereof : then go home, and prepare your ground-
bait, which is, next to the fruit of your labours, to be
regarded.

The Ground-Bait.

You shall take a peck, or a peck and a half— accord*
ing to the greatness of the stream, and deepness of the
•water, where you mean to angle — of sweet gross-ground
barley-malt ; and boil it in a kettle, one or two warms
is enough : then strain it, through a bag, into a tub ;
(the liquor whereof, hath often done my horse much
good ;) and when the bag and malt is near cold, — take
it down to the water side, about eight or nine of the
clock in the evening, and not before : cast in two parts
of your ground-bait, squeezed hard between both your
hands ; it will sink presently to the bottom ; and be sure
it may rest in the very place where you mean to angle,
—if the stream run hard, or move a little, cast your malt
in handfuls a little the higher upwards the stream. You
may, between your hands, close the malt so fast in hand-
fuls, that the water will hardly part it with the fall.

244; THE COMPLETE ANGLER. FART T,

Your ground thus baited, and tackling fitted : leave
your bag, with the rest of your tackling and ground-*
bait, near the sporting- place all night; and in the morn-
ing, about three or four of the clock, visit the water-side
1 — but not too near, for they have a cunning watchman,
and are watchful themselves too .

Then, gently, take one of your three rods, and bait
your hook; casting it over your ground-bait, — and,
gently and secretly, draw it to you till the lead rests
about the middle of the ground-bait.

Then take a second rod, and cast in about a yard
above— and, your third a yard below— ^the first rod.
And stay the rods in the ground : but go yourself so far
from the water-side, that you perceive nothing but the
top of the floats, which you must watch most diligent-
ly. Then when you have a bite, you shall perceive
the top of your float to sink suddenly into the water;
yet^ nevertheless, be not too hasty to run to your rods,
until you see that the line goes clear away ; then creep
to the water-side, and give as much line as possibly you
can: If it be a good Carp, or Broam, they will go to
the farther side of the river, — then, strike ge.'.tly ; and
hold your rod at a bent, a little while ; but if you,
both, pull together you are sure to lose your game, for
either your line, or hook, or hold will break : And
after you have overcome them, they will make noble
sport, and are very shy to be landed. The Carp is far
stronger and more mettlesome than the Bream.

Much more is to be observed, in this kind of fish and
fishing : but it is far fitter for experience and discourse
^ . than paper*. Only: thus much, isne-

mtor,To'^v7^' cessary for you to know, and to be mind-
ful and careful of, — that if the Pike or
Pearch do breed in that river, they will be sure to bite
first, and must first be taken. And, for the most part,
they are very large ; and will repair to your ground-
bait, not that they will eat of it, but will feed and sport
themselves among the young fry that gather about and
hover over the bait.

The way to discern the Pike and to take him, if you
mistrust your Brejvm hook ; for I have taken a Pike ^

CHAP, X. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. S45

yard long several times at my Bream hooks, and some-
times he hath had the luck to share my line ; may be
thus :

Take a small Bleak, or Roach, or Gudgeon, and bait
[with] it ; and set it, alive, among your rods two feet
deep from the cork, with a little red worm on the point
of the hook : — then take a few crumbs of white bread,
or some of the ground-bait, and sprinkle it gently
amongst your rods. If Mr. Pike be there ; then the
little fish will skip out of the water at his appearance,
but the live-set-bait is sure to be taken.

Thus, continue yOur sport from four in the morning
till eight : And if it be a gloomy windy day, they will
bite all day long ; but this is too long to stand to your
rods, at one place ; and it will spoil your evening sport,
that day,— which is this.

About four of the clock in the afternoon repair to
your baited-place. And as soon as you come to the
water-side, cast in one-half of the rest of your ground-
bait, and stand off; then whilst the fish arc gathering
together, for there tlicy will most certainly come for
their supper, you may take a pipe of tobacco; and,
then, in with your three rods as in the morning : you
will find excellent sport, that evening, till eight of the
clock, — then cast in the residue of your ground-bait.
And next morning, by four of the clock, visit them
again for four hours, which is the best sport of all.
And after that, let them rest till you and your friends
have a mind to more sport.

From St. James's-tide until Bartholomew-tide, is the
best; when they have had all the summer's food, they
are the fattest.

Observe, lastly, that after three or four days' fishing,
together, — your game will be very shy and wary, and
you shall hardly get above a bite or two, at a baiting :
then your only way is to desist from your sport, about
two or three days. And, in the mean time — on the
place you late bailed, and again intend to bait — you
shall take a turf of srreen, but short grass, as big or
bigger tlian a round trencher ; to the top of this turf,
on the green side, you shall, with a needle and green

p 2

94t6 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PAIIT I.

thread, fasten, one by one, as many little red worms as
will near cover all the turf ; Then take a round board
or trencher ; make a hole in the middle thereof, and
through the turf placed on the board or trencher : with
a string, or cord, as long as is fitting, tied to a pole, —
let it down to the bottom of the water, for the fish to feed
tipon without disturbance about two or three days : And
after that you have drawn it away ; you may fall to, and
enjoy your former recreation *. B . A,

• The haunts of the Bream, a fish which the angler seldom meet*
with, are the deepest and broadest parts of gentle soft streams, with
sandy clayey bottoms ; and the broadest and most quiet places of ponds,
and where there are weeds.

They spawn about the beginning of July; a little before which time
they are best in season, though some think them best in September.

The baits for the Bream, are : red- worms ; small lob, or marsh- worm* j
gentles ; and grashoppers.

In general, they are to be fished-for as Carp.

THE COMPLETE ANGLEB, 247

CHAPTER XI.

Obserations of the Tench, and Advice how to
Angle for him.

PiSCATOR.

THE Tench, the physician of fishes, is observed to
love ponds better than rivers, and to love pits better than
either ; yet Camden observes, there is a river in Dorset-
shire that abounds with Tenches ; but doubtless they
retire to the most deep and quiet places in it.

This fish hatli very large fins ; very small and smooth
scales ; a red circle about his eyes, which are big and
of a gold colour : and from either angle of his mouth,
there hangs down a little barb. In every Tench's head
there are two little stones, which foreign physicians
make great use of : but he is not commended for whole-
some meat, though there be very much use made of
them [Tench] for outward applications. Rondeletius
Bays, That at his being at Rome, he saw a great cure
done by applying a Tench to the feet of a very sick
man. .This, he says, was done after an unusual manner
by certain Jews. And it is observed, that many of those
people have many secrets yet unknown to Christians ;
secrets that have never yet been written, but have been
■ — since the days of their Solomon, who knew the na-
ture of all things, even from the cedar to the shrub-—
delivered by tradition, from the father to the son, and
so from generation to generation without writing ; or,
unless it were casually, without the least communicat-
ing there to any otlier nation or tribe,— for to do that,
they account a profanation. And, yet, it is thought
that they, or some spirit worse than they, first told us,
That lice, swallowed alive, were a certain cure for the
yellow-jaundice. This, and many other medicines,

248

THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

PART I

were discovered by them, or by revelation ; for doubt-
less, we attained them not by study.

Well! this fish; besides bis eating, is very useful,
both dead and alive, for the good of mankind. But I
■will meddle no more with that : my honest, humble art
teaches no such boldness : There are too many foolish
meddlers in physick and divinity, that think them*
selves fit to meddle with hidden secrets, — and, so, bring
destruction to their followers : but Fll not meddle with
them, any farther than to wish them wiser. And shall
tell you, next, for I hope l may be so bold, that the
Tench is the physician of fishes, for the Pike especi-
ally; and that the Pike, being either sick or hurt, is
cured by the touch of the Tench. And it is observed,
that the tyrant Pike will not be a wolf to his physician,
but forbears to devour him, though he be never so
hungry.

This fish, that carries a natural balsam in him to
cure both himself and others, loves yet to feed in very
foul water, and amongst weeds. And, yety I am sure,
he eats pleasantly ; and, doubtless, you will think so
too if you taste him. And I shall therefore proceed to
give you some few, and but a few, directions how to
catch this

TEIfSM,

of which I have given you these observations.

CHAP. XI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 249

He will bite at a paste, made of brown bread and
honey ; or, at a marsh-worm ; or, a lob-worm. He in-
clines, very much, to any paste with which tar is mixt.
And he will bite, also — at a smaller worm, with his head
nipp'd off; and, a cod-worm put on the hook before
that worm. And I doubt not but that he will, also— in
the three hot months, for in the nine colder he stirs not
much — bite at a flag- worm ; or, at a green gentle. But
can, positively say no more of the Tench *; he being a
fish that I have not often angled for, — but I wish my
honest scholar may, and be ever fortunate when he
fishes.

• The haunts of the Tench are nearly the same with those of the Carp.
They delight more in ponds, than in rivers ; and lie under weeds, near
sluices, and at pond heads.

They spawn about the beginning of July ; and are best in season from
the beginning of September to the end of May. They will bite, all the
hot months : but are, best taken in April and May.

There are no better baits for this fish than — a middle-sized lob-worm,
or red- worm, well scoured; a gentle; a young wasp-grub boiled ; or a
green worm shook from the boughs of trees.

Use a strong grass, or gut ; and a goose-quill float, without a cork, ex-
cept in rivers, where the cork is always to be preferred.

Fish very near the ground. And if you bait with gentles, throw in a
few at the taking every fidi ; which will draw them to your hook, and
keep them together.

P Z

250 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART F

CHAPTER XII.

Observations of the Pearch, and Directions how to
Jishfor him,

PiSCATOR.

THE Pearch is a very good, and a very bold-biting
fish. He is one of the fishes of prey that, like the Pike
and Trout, carries his teeth in his mouth which is very
large : and he dare venture to kill and devour several
other kinds of fish. He has a hook'd or hog back,
which is armed with sharp and stiff bristles ; and, all his
skin armed, or covered-over, with thick dry hard scales;
and hath, which few other fish have, two fins on his
back. He is so bold, that he will invade one of his own
kind, Avhich the Pike will not do so willingly ; and you
may, therefore, easily believe him to be a bold-biter.

The Pearch is of great esteem in Italy, saith Aldro-
vandus : and especially the least are there esteemed a
dainty dish. And Gcsner prefers the Pearch and Pike
above the Trout, or any fresh-water fish : he says the
Germans have this proverb, " More wholesome than a
*^ Pearch of Rhine :" and he says the River-Pea rch is
80 wholesome, that physicians allow him to be eaten by
wounded men, or by men in fevers, or by women in
child-bed.

He spawns but once a year. And is, by physicians,
held very nutritive, — yet, by many, to be hard ofdi-

fcstion. They abound more in the river Po, and in
)ngiand, (says Rondeletius,) than other parts : and
have in their brain a stone which is, in foreign parts,
55old by apothecaries; being there noted to be veiy me-
dicinable against the stone in the reins. These be a

CHAP. XII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. g51

part of the commendations which some philosophical
brains have bestowed upon the Fresh water-Pearch :
yet they commend the Sea-Pearch — which is known
by having but one fin on his back; of which they
say, we English see but a few— to be a much better
fish.

The Pearch grows slowly : yet will grow, as I have
been credibly informed, to be almost two feet long:
for an honest informer told me, such a one was
not long since taken by Sir Abraham Williams, —
a gentleman of worth, and a brother-of-the-angle,
that yet lives, and I wish he may, — this was a deep-
bodied fish, and doubtless durst have devoured a
Pike of half his own length. For I have told you,
he is a bold fish ; such a one as, but for extreme hun-
ger, the Pike will not devour. For to affright the
Pike, and save himself, the Pearch will set up his
fins, much like, as a turkey-cock will sometimes set
up his tail.

But, my scholar! the Pearch is not only valiant to
defend himself, but he is, as I said, a bold-biting fish :
Yet he will not bite at all seasons of the year ; he is
very abstemious, in Winter, — yet will bite, then, in
the midst of the day if it be warm : and noU?, that all
fish bite best, about the midst of a warm day — in
Winter. And he hath been observed, by some — not,
usually, to bite till the mulberry-tree buds ; that is to
say, till extreme frost be past the Spring : for, when
the mulberry-tree blossoms, many gardeners observe
their forward fruit to be past the danger of frosts ; and
SOME have made the like observation of the Pearch's
biting.

But bite the Pearch will, and that very boldly.
And, as one has wittili/ observed, U there be twenty
or forty in a hole, they may be, at one standing, all
catched one after another ; they being, as he sa?/s, like
the wicked of the world, not afraid, though their fel-
lows and companions perish in their sight. And you
may observe, that they arc not like the solitary Pike;
but love to accompany one another, and march toge-
ther in troops.

52^ THE COMPLETE ANGLElt.

And the baits for this bold fish

?ART X.

FBiuRCH.

are not many: I mean, he will bite as well at some, or
at any, of these three, as at any, or all, others whatso*
ever : a worm ; a minnow ; or a little frog, of which
you may find many in hay-time. And of worms ; the
dunghill-worm called a brandling, I take to be best,
being well scoured in moss or fennel : or, he will bite at
a worm, that lies under cow-dung, with a bluish head.
And if you rove for a Pearch with a minnow : then, it
is best to be alive ; you sticking your hook through his
back fin; or a minnow with the hook in his upper lip;
and letting him swim, up and down, about mid-water,
or a little lower, — and you still keeping him to about
that depth by a cork, which ought not to be a very little
one : And the like way you are to fish for the Pearch,
with a small frog ; your hook being fastened through
the skin of his leg, towards the upper part of it. And,
lastly, I will give you but this advice ; that you give
the Pearch time enough w hen he bites ; for there was
scarce ever any angler that has given him too much*.

* Although Pearch, like Trout, delight in clear swift rivers, with peb-
hly, gravelly bottoms, they are often found in sandy clayey soils : they
love a moderately deep water; and frequent holes by the sides of, or
near, little streams, — and, the hollows under banks.

The Pearch spawns about the beginning of March : the best time of
the year to angle for him, is from the beginning of May till the end of

CHAP. XII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. I&5S

And now I think best to rest myself; for I have almost
spent my spir ts with talking so long.

Ven, Nay, good master ! one fish more ; for you
see it rains still; and you knovv our angles are like
money put to usury, — they may thrive, though we sit
still, and do nothing but talk and enjoy one another.
Com^j come, the other fish, good master!

Pise, But, scholar ! have you nothing to mix with
this discourse, which now grows both tedious and tire-
some ? sliall 1 hfive nothing from you, that seem to have
both a good memory, and a ch^^arful spirit ?

Ven, Yes, master: I will speak you a copy of
verses that were m.xch hy Doctor Donne, and made to
shew iht^ vyorld that he could make soft and smooth
verses, whtu he thought smoothness worth his labour:
And I love tliem the better, because they allude to
rivers, and fish and fishing. They be these ;

Come live with me, and be mj love :
And we will some new pleasures prove —
Of golden sands, and crista) brooks;
With silken lines, and silver hooks.

There will the river, whisp'ring, run,
Warm'd hy thy eyes more than the sun;
And, there, the enamel'd fish will stay.
Begging, ** Themselves they may betray."

June, yet you may continue to fish for him till the end of September; her
is best taken in cloudy windy weather, and, as some say, from seven to tea
in the forenoon, and from two to seven in the afternoon.

Other baits for the Pearch are: loaches; miller's-thumbs ; stickle-
backs ; small lob, and marshy and red- worms, well scoured ; horse-bean*
boiled ; cad-bait ; oak- worms ; bobs and gentles.

Many^ of these fish, are taken in the rivers about Oxford ; and the au-
thor of the Angler's sure Guide says, he once saw tiie figure of a Pearch,
drawn with a pencil on the door of a house near that city, which was
twenty-nine inches long ; and was informed it was the true dimension of
a living Pearch. Angl. sure GuUe^ 153.

The largest Pearch are taken : with a minnow, hooked writh a good
hold through the back-fin, or rather through the upper lip ; for the Pearch,
by reason of the figure of his mouth, cannot take the bait cross-wise, as
the Pike will. When you fish, thus, — use a large cork-tioat, and lead your
line about nine inches from the bottom, otherwise the minnow will come
to the top of the water : But in ^ : : ordinary way of fishing, let your bait
hang within about sa inches from the ground*

P I

^51 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I#

When thou wilt swim In that live bath, —
Each fish, which e^'ry channel hath.
Most amVouslj', to thee will swim.
Gladder to catch thee than thou him*

If thou, to be so seen, be'st loath,

By sun, — or, moon : — thou dark'nest both ;

And if mine ejes have leave to see,

I need not their light, having thee*

Let others freeze with angling reeds,
And cut their legs with shells and weeds ;
Or, treach'rously poor fish beset.
With straqgling snares, or windowy net ;

Let coarse bold hands, from slimy nest.
The bedded fish in banks outwrestj
Let curious traitoro sleave silk flies,
To 'witch poor wand'ring fishes e^es.

For thee: Thou need'st no such deceit;
For thou, thyself, art thine own bait,—
That fish that is not catcht thereby,
Is wiser far, alas, than I.

Pise. Well remembered, honest scholar I I thank
you for these choice verses ; which I have heard for-
merly, but had quite forgot, till they were recovered by
your happy memory. Well! being I have now rested
myself a little, I will make you some requital, by tell-
ing you some observations of the Eel ; for it rains still :
and because, as you say, our angles are as money put
louse, that thrives when we play; therefore, we'll sit
still, and enjoy ourselves a little longer under this honey-
suckle-hedge.

THE COMPLETE i^NGLER. 255

CHAPTER XIIL

Observations of the Eel, and other Fish that want
Scales ; and how to fish Jbr them.

PiSCATOR.

IT is agreed, by most men, that the Eel is a most
dainty fish : the Romans have esteemed her the Helena
of their feasts ; and some the queen of palate-pleasure.
But most men differ, about their breeding: Some
say, they breed by generation, as other fish do ; and
others, that they breed, — as some worms do, of mud;
as rats and mice, and many other living creatures, are
bred in Egypt, by the sun's heat when it shines upon
the overflowing of the river Nilus ; or, out of the pu-
trefaction of the earth, and divers other ways. Those
that deny them to breed by generation, as other fish do ;
ask, If any man ever saw an Eel to have a spawn, or
melt? And they are answered. That they may be at
certain of their breeding as if they had seen spawn : for,
they say that they are certain, that Eels have all parts
fit for generation, like other fish*, but so small as not
to be easily discerned, by reason of their fatness ; but
that discerned they may be ; and that the He and the
She-Eel may be distinguished by their fins. And Ron-
deletius says, he has seen Eels cling together like dew-
worms.

And others say, that Eels, growing old, breed other
Eels out of the corruption of their own age; which,
Sir Francis Bacon says, exceeds not ten years. And
others say, that as pearls are made of glutinous dew-

* That fishes are furnished with parts fit for generation cannot be
doubted, since it is a common practice to castrate them. See the method
of doing it in Fbilos. Trans. Vol. XLVIII, Part II. for the year 1754.
J>age 870.

256 - THIS eJOMPLETE AJ^GLEft- PAitT I.

drops, "whicli are condensed by the sun's heal, in those
countries ; so Eels are brec' ol o particular dew, falling
in the months ol Mayor June on the banks of some
parti. :uV\r ponds or riv is, apted by nature for that end,
— which n a f w days are by the sun's heat turned into
Eels : And some of ^ he ancients have called the Eels that
are thus bred, the offspring of Jove. I have seen, in the
beginning of July, in a river not far from Canterbury,
some parts of it covered over w ith young Eels, about the
thickness of a straw ; and these Eels did lie, on the top
t)f that water, as thick as motes are said to be in the
sun: And I have heard the like of other rivers, as namely,
in the Severn, where they are called yelvers ; and in a
pond, or mere, near unto Staifoidshire, — where, about a
set time in summer, such small Eels abound so much,
that many of the poorer sort of people that inhabit near
to it, take such Eels out of this mere with sieves or
sheets; and make a kind of Eel-cake of them, and eat
it like as bread. And Gesner quotes venerable Bede*,
to say ; that in England there is an island called Ely^
by reason of the innumerable number of Eels that breed
in it. But that Eels may be bred — as some worms,
and some kind of bees and wasps are — either of dew,
or out of the corruption of the earth ; seems \.<i be
made probable by the barnacles, and young goslings,
bred by the sun's heat and the rotten planks of an
old ship, and hatched of trees : both which are related
for truths by Du Bartas and Lobelt; and, also, by

* The most universal scholar of his time : he was born at Durham
about G71, and bred undtr St, John of Eever!ey. It is said, that Pope
Serglus the First iiivited him to Rome; though others say, he never
stirred out of ris r elL He was a man oi great virtue, and remarkable
for a most sweet and engaging disposition : he died in 734, and lies buried
at Durham. His works make eighi volumes in folio. See his Life in the
Biogr. Brit ami.

f Matthias de LoheU or VObcl -, an eminent physician and botanist, of
the sixteenth century ; was a native of Lisle in Flanders. He was a dis-
ciple of Rondeletius: and, being invited to London by king James the First,
published there, his His tor ia Plantarum ; and died in the year 1616. Vide
Hoffmanni " Lexicon Universal':" in articulo " Matthias Lobelius." This
work is entitled Plantarum seu stirpium historia^ and was first published at
Antwerp in 1576, and republished at London in 1605. He was author
Kkewise of two other works; ^he former of wliich has for its title Balsamic

CHAP. XIII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 257

our learned Camden ; and laborious Gerhard *, in liis
Herbal.

It is said by Rondeletius, that those Eels that are bred
in rivers that relate to, or be nearer to the sea, never re-
turn to the fresh waters, — as the Salmon does always
desire to do, when they have once tasted the salt water, —
and I do the more easily believe this, because I am cer-
tain, that powdered beef is a most excellent bait to catch
an Eel. And 1 hough Sir Francis Bacon will allow the
Eel's life to be but ten years : yet he, in his Historj/ of
Life and Deaths mentions a Lamprey, belonging to
the Roman emperor, to be made tame^ and, so, kept for
almost threescore years ; and that such useful and plea-
sant observations were made of this Lamprey, that
Crassus the orator, who kept her, lamented her death.
And we read in Dr. Hakewill, that Hortensius was
seen to weep at the death of a Lamprey that he had kept
long, and loved exceedingly t.

It is granted by all, or most men, That Eels, for
about six months, that is to say, the six cold months of
the year, stir not up and down, neither in the rivers,
nor in the pools in which they usually are, but get into
the soft earth or mud; and, there, many of them toge-
ther, bed themselves; and live without feeding upon
any thing, — as, I have told you, some swallows have
been observed to do in hollow trees for those six cold

OpobaUatniy Carpobalsami, & Xylohalsami, cum suo corttce Explanaiio, Lond.
1598 ; and the latter, Siirfium illustrationes. Lond. 1655.

* The person here mentioned is yobn Gerard, one of the first of our
English Botanists; he was by profession a Surgeon; and published, in 1597,
an Herbal^ in a large folio, dedicated to the lord treasurer Burleigh, — and,
two years after, a Catalogue of Plants^ H^rbs^ &c. to the number of eleven
hundred, raised and naturalized by himself in a large garden near hi«
house in Holborn. The latter is dedicated to Sir Walter Raleigh.

f The Author, page 1 97, has cited from Pliny an instance of the fond-
ness of Antonia, a woman, for a tame Lamprey, which the tenderness of
her sex might perhaps excuse ; but the sagacity and docibleness of these
creatures seem less wonderful, than the weakness of such men as Crassui
and Hortensius, in becoming mourners for the death of an Eel.

The former of these two persons was, for this his pusillanimity, reproach-
ed in the senate of Rome by Domitius, in these words — " Foolish Crassus!
«' you wept for your Murena" [or Lamprey]. " That is more,*' retorted
Crassus, « than you did for your two wivefc" Lord Bacon's Apopb-
tbtgm:.

258 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

months. And tliis the Eel and Swallow do, as not being
able to endure winter weather : forGesner quotes Alber-
tus to say, that in the year 1 125, (that year's winter be-
fog more cold than usually,) Eels did, by nature's in-
stinct, get out of the water into a stack of hay in a
meadow upon dry ground*; and there bedded them-
selves : but yet, at last, a frost killed them. And our
Camden relates, that in Lancashire, fishes were digged
out of the earth with spades, where no water was near
to the place +. I shall say little more of the Eel, but
that — As it is observed, he is impatient of cold ; so it
hath been observed, that, in warm weather, an Eel has
been known to live five days out of the water.

And lastly, let me tell you, that some curious search-
ers into the natures offish, observe. That there be se-
veral sorts or kinds of Eels: as the silver Eel; and
green or greenish Eel, with which the river of Thames
abounds, and those are called grigs ; and a blackish
Eel, whose head is more flat and bigger than ordinary
Eels ; and also an Eel whose fins are reddish, and but
seldom taken in this nation, and yet taken sometimes.
These several kind of Eels are, say some, diversly
bred ; as, namely, out of the corruption of the earth ;
and some by dew ; and, other ways ; as I have said to
you : And 3 et it is affirmed by some for certain, that
the silver Eel is bred by generation ; but not by spawn-
ing as other fish do, but that her brood come alive
from her, being then little live Eels no bigger nor
longer than a pin ; and I have had too many testimo-
nies of this, to doubt the truth of it myself; and if I
thought it needful I might prove it, but 1 think it is
needless.

* Dr. Plot, in his History of Staffordshire^ page 242, mentions certain
waters, and a pool, that were stocked by Eels that had, from waters they
liked not, travelled in arido, or over dry land, to these other.
. f Camden's relation is to this effect, viz. " That, at a place called Sef-
" ton in the above county, — upon turning up the turf, men find a black
** deadish water with small fishes therein." Britannia, Lantasbire. Ful-
ler, who also report* this strange fact, humourously says, " That the men
" of this place go a-fishing with spades and mattocks ; adding, that fishet
« are thus found in the country about Heraclea and Tius, in Pontui."
IVorthies, in Lancashire, 107.

CHAP. XIII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. §59

And this Eel, of which I have said so much to yon,
may be caught with divers kinds of baits : as namely,
with powdered beef; with a lob or garden-worm ; with
a minno ,»' ; or, gut of a hen, chicken, or tlie guts of
any iish; or with almost any thing, for he is a greedy
fish*. But the Eel may be caught, especialli/^ with a
little, a very little Lamprey, — which some call a Pride,
and may, in the hot months, be found many of them in
the river Thames, and in many mud-heaps in other
rivers ; yea, almost as usually as one tinds worms in a
dung-hill.

Next note, that the Eel seldom stirs in the day, but
then hides himself; and, therefore, he is usually
caught by night, with one of these baits of which I
have spoken ,^ — and may be, then, caught by laying
hooks, which you are to fasten to the bank or twigs of
a tree — or, by throwing a string cross the stream;
with many hooks at it, and those baited with the afore-
said baits ; and a clod, or plummet, or stone, thrown
into the river with this line, that so you may in the morn-
ing, find it near to some fixt place, — and then, take it
up with a drag-hook, or otherwise. But these things
are, indeed, too common to be spoken of; and an hour's
fishing with any angler will teach you better, both for
these and many other common things in the practical
part of angling, than a week's discourse. I shall
therefore conclude this direction for taking the Eel, by
telling you, That, in a warm day in summer, I have
taken many a good Eel by Snigling, and have been
much pleased with that spot.

And because you, that are but a young angler, know

• To this tmth, I myself can bear witness. When I dwelt at Twicken-
ham, a large canal adjoined to my house, which I stocked with fish. I had
from time to time broodsof ducks, which, with theiryoung ones, took to the
water. One dry summer, when the canal was very low, we missed many
young ducks, but could not find out how they went : resolving to make
advantage of the lowness of the water to clean the canal, a work which
had not been done for thirty years before, I drained and emptied it, and
found in the mud a great number of large Eels. Some of them I reserved
for the use of my family; which being opened by the cook surprised us all,
■ — for, in the stomachs of many of them, were found, undigested, the necks
and heads of young ducks, which doubtless were those of the ducks we
had missed. The fact seems to have been, that the water being shallow,
they became an easy prey, and were pulled under by the Eels, or ifyou will
by the beelu

260 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

not what Snigliiig is, I will now teach it to you. You
remember I (old you, that Eels do not usually stir in
the day time; for, then, they hide themselves under
some covert, — or under boards or planks about flood-
gates, or weirs, or mills, — or in holes on the river banks :
So that you — observing your time in a warm day,
when the water is lowest — may take a strong small hook
tied to a strong line, or to a string about a yard long ;
and, then — into one of these holes, or between any
boards about a mill, or under any great stone or plank,
or any place where you think an Eel may hide or
shelter herself — you may, with the help of a short stick,
put in your bait, but leisurely, and as far a^ you may
conveniently : and it is scarce to be doubted, but that
if there be an Eel within the sight of it, the Eel will
bite instantly, and as certainly gor^j^e it : And you need
not doubt to have him, if you pull him not out of the
hole too quickly, but pull him out by degrees ; for he,
lying folded double in his hole, will with the help of
his tail break all, unless you givehimtimeto be wearied
with pulling, and so get him out by degrees, not pull-
ing too hard.

And to commute for your patient hearing this long
direction, — I shall next tell you, How to make this

EE]L.

a most excellent dish of meirt.

fcllAP.XIII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 261

First, wash him in water and salt ; then pull off his
skin below his vent or navel, and not much further :
having done that, take out his guts as clean as you
can, but wash him not: then give him three or four
scotches with a knife: and then put — into his belly,
and those scotches — sweet herbs ; an anchovy ; and a
little nutmeg grated, or cut very small ; and your
herbs and anchovies must also be cut very small, and
mixt with good butter and salt : having done this,
then pull his skin over him all but his head, which you
are to cut oflf, to the end you may tie his skin about
that part where his head grew, and it must be so tied
as to keep all his moisture within his skin: and
having done this, tie him with tape. or packthread
to a spit: and roast him leisurely: and baste him
with water and salt till his skin breaks, and theu
with butter ; and having roasted him enough, — let
what was put into his belly, and what he drips, be his
sauce. S. F.

When 1 go to dress an Eel thus, I wish he were as
long and as big as that which was caught in Peter-
borough river, in the year 1667 ; which was a yard
and three quarters long. If you will not believe me;
then go and see, at one of the coffee-houses in King-street
in Westminster.

But now let me tell you, that though the Eel thus
drest be not only excellent good, but more harmless
than any other Wiiy, yet it is certain, that physicians
account the Eel dangerous meat; 1 will advise you
therefore, as Solomon says of honey, Prov, 25.
^' Hast thou found it, — eat no more than is sufficient,
'' lest thou surfeit, for it is not good to eat much
'* honey." And let me add this, that the unchari-
table Italian bids us " give Eels, and no wine, to our
** enemies."

And I will beg a little more of your attention, to
tell you, that Aldrovandus, and divers physicians,
commend the Eel very much for medicine, though
not for meat. But let me tell you one observation,
That the Eel is never out of season ; as Trouts, and

SB3 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART T.

most other fish are, at set times ; at least, most Eels arc
not*.

* The haunts of the Eel are — ^weeds; under roots, stumps of trees; holes,
and clefts of the earth, both in the banks and at the bottom ; arid in the
plain mud ; where they lie with only their heads out, watching for prey.
They are also found under great stones, old timber ; about flood-gates,
weirs, bridges, and old mills. They delight in still waters, and in those
tliat are foul and muddy ; though the smaller Eels are to be met with, in
all sorts of rivers and soils.

Although the manner in which Eels, and indeed all fish, are generated,
i» sufficiently settled, as appears by the foregoing notes ; there yet remains
a question undecided by naturalists, and that is. Whether the Eel be an
oviparous or a viviparous fish ? Waiton inclines to the latter opinion. The
following relation from Bowlker, may go near to determine the question.

•' Being acquainted with an elderly woman, wHo had been wife to a
*♦ miller near fifty years, and much employed in dressing of Eels, I asked
*' her whether she had ever found any spawn or eggs in those Eels she
" opened? ShesaiJ, she had never observed any; but that she had some-
** times found living Eels in them, about the bigness of a small needle ;
« and particularly, that she, once, took out ten or twelve, and put them
** upon the table, and found them to be alive, — which wa^ confirmed to
** me by the rest of the family. The time of the year when this happen-
**/ed was, as they informed me, about a fortnight or three weeks after
*' Michaelmas ; which makes me of opinion that they go down to the sea,
*' pr salt-water, to prepare themselves for the work of propagating and pro-
** ducing their yoimg. To this I must add another observation of the same
*» nature, that was made by a gentleman of fortune not far from liudlow,
♦» and in the Commission of the peace for the county of Salop; who,
" going to visit a gentleman, his friend, was shewn a very fine large Eel,
*' that was goitlg to be dressed, about whose sides and belly he observed a
*♦ parcel of little creeping things, which at first made him suspect it had
** been kept too long ; but upon nearer inspection, they were found to be
«« perfect little Eels, or Elvers; — Upon this, it was immediately opened
«« in the sight of several other gentlemen; and in the belly of it, they
*< found a lump about as big as a nutmeg, consisting of an infinite number
** of those little creatures, closely wrapped up together, — which, being
« put into a bason of water, soon separated, and swam about the bason; —
•* 'I'his he has often told to several gentlemen of credit in his neighbour-
" hood, from some of whom I first receivejj this account ; but I have lately
*• had the satisfaction of having it from his own mouth; and therefore I
« think this may serve to put the matter out of all doubt, and may be
« sufficient to prove that Eels are of the viviparous kind."

Taking it for granted then that Eels do not spawn, — all we have to say
in this place is, that though, as our author tells us, they are never out of
season, yet, as some say, they are best in Winter, and worst in May. And
it ijs to be noted of Eels, that the longer they live the better they are.
Angler's sure Guide ^ 1 64.

Of baits for the Eel, — the best are lob-worms ; loach ; minnows ; small
pppe; or pearch, with the fins cut off; pieces of any fish, — especially Bleak,
as being very lucid, with which I have taken very large ones.

4.8 the angling for Eels is no verv pleasant amusement, and is always

€HAP. XIII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER, ^6$

I might here speak of many other fish, whose shape
and nature are much like the Eel ; and, frequent both
the sea, and fresh rivers ; as namely, the Lamprel, the
Lamprey, and the Lamperne : as also of the mighty
Conger, taken often in Severn about Gloucester : And
might also tell, in what liigl) esteem many of them
are for the curiosity of their taste. Bit these are not
so proper to be talked of by mo, because they make
us anglers no sport ; therefore I will l"t them alone — as
the Jews do, to who.n they arc forbidden l.y their law.

And, scholar! there is also a Floun^der, a sea*
fish, which wdl wJMider very far into fresh rivers;
and tliere lose hinaself; and dwell ; and thrive to
a hand's breadth, and almost twice so long ; a fish
without scales, and most excellent meat: and a fish
that affords much sport lo \he angler with any small
worm, but especially a little bluish worm, gotten
out of marsh-ground or meadows, which should be
well scoured *, But this, though it be most excel-

attended with great trouble and the risk of tackle ; many, while they angle
for other fish, lay lines for the Eel, which they tie to weeds, flags, is'e.
with marks to find them by. Or, you may take a long packthread line,
with a leaden weight at the end, and hooks looped on at a yard distance
from each other : fasten one end to the flags, or on the shore ; and throw
the lead out, and let the line lie some time. And, in this w?y, you may
probably take a Pike.

The river Kennet in Berkshire, the Stour in Dorsetshire, Irk in Lanca-
shire, and Ankham in Luicolnshire, are famed for producing excellent
Eels ; the latter to so great a degree, as to gire rise to the following prot
verbial rhyme;

Ankham Eel, and Witham Pike,
In all England is none sike.

But It is said, there are no Eels superior in goodness to those taken in th«
head of the New River near Islington; and I myself have seen Eels, caught
there with a rod and line, of a very large size.

Eels, contrary to all other fish, never swim up, but always down the
ftream,

* The taking Flounders with a rod and^line, Is»a thing so accidental,
that it is hardly worth the mention. The same may be said of Smelts,
which. In the Thames, and other great rivers, are caught with a bit of any
•mall fish, but chiefly of their own species. In the month of August,
f^bout the year 1720, such vast quantitiei of smelts came up the Thames*

264 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. TART T.

TheEditorhas \Q^i meat, yet (as I told you) it -vrants
*fZntheifrom s^alcs, and is, therefore, an abomination

the line belo-w. tO the JcWS.

But scholar, there is a fish that they
in Lancashire boast very much of, called a Char;
taken there— and I think, there, only — in a mere called
Winander-Mere * : a mere, says Camden, (hat is the
largest in this nation, being ten miles in length, and
(some say) as smooth in the bottom as if it were pared
with polished marble. This fisli never exceeds fifteen
or sixteen inches in length; and it is spotted like a
Trout; and has scarce a bone, but on the back. But
this, though I do not know whether it make the angler
sport, yet I would have you take notice of it, because it
is a rarity, and of so high esteem with persons of great
note.

Nor would I have you ignorant of a rare fish called a
Gtjiniad; of which, I shall tell you what Camden and
others speak. The river Dee, which runs by Chester,
springs in Merionethshire ; and, as it runs toward Ches-
ter, it runs through Pemble-Mere, which is a large water :
and it is observed, that though the river Dee abounds
with Salmon, and Pemble-Mere with the Guiniad,—
yet there is never any Salmon caught in the mere, nor a
Guinia4 in the river. And now my next observation
shall be of the Barbel.

that women, and even children, became anglers for them ; and, as I have
been told by persons who well remember it, in one day, between London-
bridge and Greenwich, not fewer than two thousand persons were thu»
employed.

* It is also found in Connlngston-Mere in Lancashire. Leigh's Hut, of
Lantatbire^ 141.

THE COMPLETE ANGLEE. 265

CHAPTER XI7.

Observations of the Barbel ; and Directions how to

Jish for him,

PiSCATOR.

THE Barbel is so called, says Gesner, by reason of
his barb or wattles at his mouth, which are under his
nose or chaps. He is one of those leather-mouthed
fishes thai I told yon of, that does very seldom break
his hold if he be once hooked : but he is so strong,
that he will often break bodi rod and line, if he proves
to be a big one.

But the Barbel, though he be of a fine shape, and
looks big : yet he is not accounted the best fish to
eat,^neither for his wholesomeness, nor his taste: but
the male is reputed much better than the female, whose
spawn is very hurtful, as I will presently declare to
you.

They flock together like sheep. And are at the
worst in April, about which time they spawn : but
quickly grow io be in season. He is abie to live in the
strongest swifts of the water : and, in summer, they
love the shallowest and sharpest streams ; and love to
lurk under weeds ; and to teed on gravel against a
rising ground ; and will root and dig in the sands with
his nose, like a hog, — and, there, nests himself; yet,
sometimes, he retires to deep and swift [currents nearj
bridges, or flood-gates, or weirs ; where he will nest
himself, amongst piles, or in hollow places,— and take
such hold of moss or weeds, that be the water never so
swift, it is not able to force him from the place that he
contends for. This is his constant custom, in sum-
mer, when he and most living creatures sport them-
selves in the sun : but at the approach of winter,
then he forsakes the swift streams and shallow waters ;
and) by degrees^ retires to those parts of the river that

^66 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

are quiet and deeper; in which places, and, I think,
about that time, [/pril,] he spawns, — and, as I have
formerly told you, with Ihe help of the melter, hides
his spawn or e«^gs in holes, which they, both, dig in
the gravel ; and then they mutually labour to cover it
with the same sand, to prevent it from being devoured
hy other fish.

There be such store of this fish in the river Danube,
that Rondeletius says, they may in some places of it,
and in some months of the year, be taken, by those
that dwell near to the river, with their hands, eight or
ten load at a time. He says. They begin to be
good in May, and that they cease to be so in August :
but it is found to be otherwise, in this nation. But
thus far we agree with him. That the spawn of a Bar-
bel,— if it be not poison, as he says, — yet that it is
dangerous meat, and especially in the month of May ;
which is so certain, that Gesncr and Gasius* declare,
it had an ill effect upon them, even to the endangering
of their lives t.

This fish is of a fine cast and handsome shape, with
small scales, which are placed after a most exact and
curious manner :

BAIRBE3L,

* Of this person,! can no where find any account.

f Though the spawn of the Barbel is know to be of a poisonou*
hature, yet it is often taken by country people medicinally ; who find it,
at once, a most powerful emetic and cathartic. And, notwithstanding

CHAP. XIV. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 267'

and as I told you, may be rather said — not to be ill,
than to be 2:0065 meat. The Chub and he have, I
think, both lost part of their credit by ill cookery ;
they being reputed the worst, or coarsest, of fresh-
water fish. But the Barbel affords an angler choice
sport ; being a lusty and a cunning fish ; so lusty and
cunning as to endanger the breaking of the angler's
line, by running his head forcibly towards any covert,
or hole, or bank ; and then striking at the line, to
break it off, with his tail, — as is observed by Plutarch,
in his book De industria animalium; and also so cun-
ning, to nibble and suck off your worm close to the
hook, and yet avoid the letting the hook come into
his mouth.

The Barbel is also curious, for his baits : that is
to say, that they be clean and sweet. And liave your
worms well scoured, and not kept in sour and musty
moss, for he is a curious feeder : but at a well-scoured
lob- worm, he will bite as boldly as at any bait,— and,
especially, if, a night or two before you fish for him,
you shall bait the places where you intend to fish for
him, with big worms cut into pieces*. And note,
that none did ever over-bait tlie place, nor fish too
early or too late for a Barbel. And the Barbel
will bite also at gentles; which — not being too much
scoured, but green — are a choice bait for him : and
so is cheese,— -which is not to be hard, but kept a day
or two in a wet linen cloth to make it tough, — with
this, you may also bait the water, a day or two before
you fish for the Barbel, and be much the likelier to
catch store ; and if the cheese were laid in clarified
honey a short time before, as namely, an liour or two,
you are still tlie likelier to catch fish. Some have
directed to cut the cheese into thin pieces, and toast

^hat is said of the wholesomeness of the fesh^— with some constitutions,
it produces the same effects as the sbatvn. About the month of Septem-
ber, in the year 1754, a servant ot mine, who had eaten part of a Bar-
bel— though, as I had cautioned him, he abstained from the spawn — was
seized with such a violent purging and vomiting, as had like to have
co«t him his life.

* Graves ; which are the sediment of tallow melted for the making of
tandles ; cut into pieces, are an excellent ground-bait for Barbel, Gud-
geons, and many other fish, — if thrown in, the night before you angle.

ft

g68 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART t,

it : and then fie it on the hook with fine silk. And
some advise. To fish for the Barbel, with sheep's tal-
low and soft cheese beaten or worked into a paste ; and
that it. is choicely good in August, — and I believe it.
But, doubtless, the lob-worm well-scoured, — and the

fentle, not too much scoured, — and cheese, ordered as
have directed, — are baits enough ; and I think will
serve in any month : though I shall commend any an-
gler that tries conclusions, and is industrious to im-
prove the art. And now, my honest scholar ! the long
shower, and ray tedious discourse, are both ended to-
gether : And I shall give you but this observation, —
that, when you fish for a Barbel, your rod and line be,
both, long and of good strength ; for, as I told you, you
will find him a heavy, and a dogged, fish to be dealfc
withal ; yet he seldom or never breaks hold if he be
once struck. And if you would know more, of fish-
ing [either] for the Umber, or [for the] Barbel*, get

* Of the haunts of the Barbel, the Author has spoke sufficiently.

Barbel spawn, about the middle of April; and grow in season, about
a month after.

Baits for Barbel, other than what Walton has mentioned, are: the
young brood of wasps, hornets, and humble bees.

In fishing for him, use a very strong rod, and a silk line with a shot
and a bullet, as directed for the Trout: some use a cork-float; which u
you do, be sure to fish as close to the bottom as possible, so as the bait
does not touch the ground.

In angling for lesser fish, — the angler will sometimes find it a misfor-
tune to hook a Barbel, a fish so sullen, that with fine tackle it is scarcely
possible to land one of twelve inches long.

A lover of angling told me the following story: He

Angler caught Was fishing in the river Lea, at the ferry called Je-
hy a Barbel. remy's ; and had hooked a large fish at the time when

some Londoners v/ith their horses were passing; they
congratulated him on his success, and got out of the ferry-boat ; but'
finding the fish not likely to yield, mounted their horses and rode off.
The fact was, — that angling for small fish, his bait had been taken by a
Barbel, too big for the fisher to manage. Not caring to risque his tackle
by attempting to raise him, he hoped to tire him, and to that end
suffered himself to be led, to use his own expression, as a blind man is by
his dog, several yards up, and as many down, the bank of the river ; in
short, for so many hours, that the horsemen above-mentioned — who had
been at Walthamstow, and dined — were returned: who, seeing him thus-
occupied, cried out, " What, master ! another large' fish ?" " No," says
Piseator^ " it is the very same." " Nay," says one of them, " that can
" never be; for it is five hours since we crest the river:" And "*ot be-
lieving him, they rode on their way. At length our angler determined
to do that which, a less patient one would have done long before; he

CHAP. XiV. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. S69

into favour with Dr. Sheldon*, whose skill is above

made one vigorous effort to land his fish, broke his tackle, and lo»l
him.

Fishing for Barbel; is, at best, but a dull recreation. They are a
sullen fish,' and bite but slowly. The angler drops in his bait; the
bullet at the bottom of the line fixes it to one spot of the river : — Tired
with waiting for a bite, he generally lays down his rod, raid exercising
the patience of a setting-dog, waits till he sees the top of his rod
move; then begins a struggle between him and the fish, which he calls
his sport ; and that being over, he lands his prize, fresh baits his hook,
and lays in for another.

Living some years ago in a village on the banks of
the Thames, I was used in the summer months to be Patience of a

much in a boat on the river. It chanced that at Barbel Angler*
Shepperton, where I had been for a few days, I fre-
quently passed an elderly gentleman in his boat ; who appeared to be
fishing, at different stations, for Barbel. After a few salutations had
passed between us, and we were become a little acquainted ; I took oc-
casion to enquire of him what diversion he had met with : " Sir," says
he, " I have had but bad luck to-day, for I fish for Barbel, and you
" know they are not to be caught like Gudgeons." " It is very true,"
answered I ; " but what you want in tale, I suppose you make up in
" weight." " Why, Sir," says he, " that is just as it happens; it is true,
** I like the sport, and love to catch fish, but my great delight is in going
« after them. I'll tell you what. Sir," continued he ; "I am a man in
" years ; and have used the sea all my life, [he had been an India captain,]
*' but I mean to go no more ; and have bought that little house which
** you see there," [pointing to it,] " for the sake of fishing: I get into this
*' boat" [which he was then mopping] " on a Monday morning, and fish
" on till Saturday night, for Barbel as I told you, for that is my delight ;
** and this I have sometimes done for a month together — and, in all that
** while, have not had one bite."

The Barbel-angler has, however, sometimes occa-
sion to exult at the sport which he finds. As recently Remarlable in-
as Aug, 9, 1807, at one of the deeps near Shepperton, stance of success.
which had been prepared by baiting the preceding
night, — a party of four gentlemen, named Emes, Atkinson, Hall, Moore^
separated into two boats, beg^n fishing between ten and eleven in the
forenoon ; in about five hours they caught the following quantity ;

Emes & Atkinson.
2 Fish, weighing . . . 20lb.

6 32

so . . 28

4 thrown over

Hall & Moore.
2 Fish, weighing . . . \5lb,

20 23

23 32

45 70

42 80

Total, 87 fish, weighing 150/^.
* Dr. Gilbert Sheldon ; warden of All Souls college ; chaplain to king
Charles the First; and, after the restoration, archbishop of Canterbury.
He founded the theatre at Oxford; died in 1G77, and lies buried under
a stately monument at Croydon in Surry.

Q 2

270 Tllfi COMPLETE ANGLER. PART li

others; and of that, the poor that dwell about hira
have a comfortable experience.

And now let's go and see what interest the Trouts
will pay us, for letting our angle- rods lie so long and
so quietly in the water for their use. Come, scholar !
which will you take up ?

Ven. Which you think fit, master.

Pise, Why, you shall take up that ; for I am cer*
tain, by viewing the line, it has a fish at it. Look
you, scholar ! well done ! Come ! now, take up tha
other too ; well ! now you may tell my brother Peter,
at night, tliat you have caught a leash of Trouts this
day. And, now let's move towards our lodging ; and
drink a draught of red-cow's milk as we go, — and give
pretty Maudlin and her honest mother a brace of
Trouts for their supper.

Ven* Master ! 1 like your motion very well : and
I think it is now about milking-time ; and, yonder,
they be at it.

I^isc. God speed you, good woman ! I thank you both,
for our songs last night ; I and my companion have had
such fortune a fishing this day, that we resolve to give
you and Maudlin a brace of Trouts for supper ; and
we will now taste a draught of your red-cow's milk.

Milh-'w, Marry ! and that you shall with all my heart;
and I Avill be still your debtor when you come this
way : If you will but speak the word, I will make you
a good syllabub of new verjuice; and then you may
sit down in a haycock, and eat it, — and Maudlin shall
sit by and sing you the good old song of the Hunting
in Chevy Chace^ or some other good ballad, for she
hath good store of them ; Maudlin, ray honest Maud-
lin, hath a notable memory ; and she thinks nothing
too good for you, because you be such honest men.

Ven, We thank you ; and intend, once in a month^
to call upon you again, — and, give you a little warn-
ing ; and, so good night ; good night. Maudlin ! And
now, good master ! let's lose no tiijie : but tell me some-
what more of fishing ; and if you please, — first, some-
thing of fishing for a Gudgeon.

Pise, I will, honest scholar!

THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

271

CHAPTER XV.

Ohserxaiions of the Gudgeon, the Ruffo, and the
Bleak ; and how to Jish for them.

PlSCATOR.

THE Gudgeon is reputed a fish of excellent taste,
and to be very wholesome. He is of a fine sliape ; of
a silver colour, and beautified with black spots both on
his body and tail. He breeds two or three times in the
year; and, always, in summer. He is com mended for
a fish of excellent nourishment. The Germans call
him Groundling ; by reason of his feeding on the
ground, — and he, there, feasts himself, in sharp streams,
and on the gravel. He and the Barbel both feed so :
and do not hunt for flies at any time, as most other
fishes do. He is an excellent fish to enter a youn
angler; being easy to be taken with a small re
worm, on or very near to the ground. He is one
of those leather- mouthed fish that has his teeth in his
throat, and will hardly be lost off from the hook if he
be once struck.

GIDTSGEOH,

They be, usually, scattered up and down every

rive/

272 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I,

in the shallows, in the heat of Summer : but in Au-
tumn— when the weeds begin to grow sour and rot, and
the weather colder — then, they gather together, and get
into the deeper parts of the water, — and are to be fished
for, there, with your hook always touching the
ground, if you fish for him with a float, or with a
cork. But many will fish for the Gudgeon by hand,
with a running-line upon the ground, without a cork ;
as a Trout is fished for ; and it is an excellent way, if
you have a gentle rod, and as gentle a hand *.

There is also another fish called a Pope, and by
some a Ruffo ; a fish that is not known to be in some
rivers : he is much like the Pearch, for his shape, — and
taken to be better than the Pearch, but will not grow to
be bigger than a Gudgeon. He is an excellent fish, no
fish that swims is of a pleasanter taste. And he is,
also, excellent to enter a young angler, for he is a
greedy biter ; and they will usually lie, abundance of
them together, in one reserved place, where the water
is deep and runs quietly ; and an easy angler, if he has
found where they lie, may catch forty or fifty, or some-
times twice so many, at a standing.

You must fish for him with a small red worm, and
if you bait the ground with earth, it is excellent.

There is also a

• In fishing for Gudgeons,— have a rake ; and, every quarter of an hour,
rake the bottom of the rirer, and the fish will flock thither in shoals.

CHAP. XT. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 275

or fresh- water Sprat; a fish that is ever in motion^
and, therefore, called bj some the river-swallow,
— for just as you shall observe the swallow to be,
most evenings in summer, ever in motion, making
short and quick turns when he flies to catch flics,
in the air, by which he lives ; so does the Bleak
at the top of the water. Ausonins would have liim
called Bleak from his whitish colour : his back is of
a pleasant sad- or seawater-green ; his belly, white
and shining as the mountain snow. And doubtless,
though he liave the fortune — which virtue has, in
poor people — to be neglected ; yet the Bleak ought
to be much valued, — though we want Allamot salt,
and the skill, that the Italians have, to turn them
into anchovies. This fisli may be caught with
a Pater^noster line*; that is, Six or eight very
small hooks tied along the line, one half a foot .
above the other : I liave seen five caught thus at
one time ; and the bait has been gentles, than which
none is better.

Or, this fish may be caught with a fine small
artificial fly, which is to be of a very sad brown
colour, and very small, and the hook answerable.
There is no better sport than whipping for Bleaks.
— in a boat, or on a bank — in the swift water, in a
Summer's evening; with a hazel top about five or
six foot long, and a line twice the length of the
rod : — I have heard Sir Henry Wotton say, that
there be many that, in Italy, will catch swallows so,
—or, especially, martins t; this bird-angler stand-
ing on the top of a steeple to do it, — and with a line
twice so long as I have spoken of. And let me tell
you, scholar ! that both Martins and Bleaks be most
excellent meat.

* A rosary or string of beads, is used by tbe Roman Catholic devotees
to assist them in numbering thaiv Pater-nosters or prayers? aline with
many hooks at small distances from each other, though it little re-
sembles a string of beads, is thence called a Pater'itoster line.

f This is a common practice in England.
Q*3

fT4 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

And let me tell you, that I haye known a Hem that
did constantly frequent one place, caught with a hook
baited with a big minnow, or a small gudgeon. The
line and hook must be strong, — and tied to some loose
staff, so big as she cannot fly away with it; a line not
cxceediug two yards.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER* 275

CHAPTER XYI.
Js of nothing; or^ that which is nothing worth,

PiSCATOR*

MY purpose was : To give you some directions,
concerning Roach aiid Dace, and some other inferior
fish Avhich make the angler excellent sport; for you
know there is more pleasure in hunting the hare than
in eating her : But 1 will forbear, at this time, to say
any more ; because you see, yonder, come our brother
Peter and honest Coridon. But I will promise you,
that — as you and I fish, and walk, to-morrow, towards
London — if I have, now, forgotten any thing that I
^an, then, remember, 1 will not keep it from you.

Well met, gentlemen! this is lucky that we meet
«o, just together, at this very door. Come, hostess !
where are you ? is supper ready ? Come, first, give
us drink : And be as quick as you can ; for I believe
we are all very hungry. Well^ brother Peter and
Coridon! to you both. Come, drink! and then tell
me what luck, of fish : We two have caught but ten
trouts, of which my scholar caught three : look ! here's
eight, and a brace we gave away. We have had a
most pleasant day, for fishing and talking ; and
are returned home, both weary and hungry, — and,
now, meat and rest will be pleasant.

Pet. And Coridon and I have not had an unplea-
sant day : and yet I have caught but five trouts ; for,
indeed, we went to a good honest ale-house, — and,
there, we played at shovel-board half the day ; all
the time that it rained we were there, and as merry
as they that fished. And I am glad, we are now with
a dry house over our heads ; for, hark ! how it rains
and blows. Come, hostess ! give us more ale, and our

Q 4:

276 THE COMPLETE ANGLEIl. PART I,

supper wilh Avliat haste you may : and when we have
suppetl, let us have your song, Piscator! and the
catch that your scholar promised us ; or, else, Coridou
■will be dogged.

Pise. Nay, I will not be worse than my word ;
you shall not w«int my song, and I hope I shall be
perfect in it.

Ven, And I hope the like for my catch, which I
have ready too : and, therefore, let's go merrily to
supper, — and then have a gentle touch at singing and
drinking -, but the last with moderation.

Cor. C.'ome ! now for your song • for we have fed
heartily. Come, hostess ! lay a tew more sticks on
the fire. And, now, sing when you will.

Pise, Well then, here's to you, Coridon ! and^
now for my song.

Oh tbe gallant fisher's lif^,

It is the best of anj^;
'Tis full of pleasure, void of stnle»
And 'tis belov'd by many :
Other joys
Are but toys :
^ Only this
La^vful is ;
^ For our skill

I Breeds no ill,

j But, content and pleasure,

lu a morning, up we rise.
Ere Aurora's peeping ;
Drink a cup to wash our eyes ;
Leave the sluggard sleeping:

Then we go,

To and fro, —

With our knacks

At our backs, —

To such streams

As the Thames,
If we have the leisure.

CHAP. XVI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. g77

When we please to walk abroad
For our recreation ;

Ip the fields is our abode,
Full of delectation :

Where, in a brook,
With a hook —
Or, a lake-
Fish M'C take:
There we'sit.
For a bit.

Till we fish entangle,

We have gentles in a horn,

We have paste and worms too ;
We can watch both night and mora,
Suffer rain and storms too :

None do here

Use to swear;

Oaths do fray

Fish away :

We sit still,

And watch our quill j
Fishers must not wrangle.

If the sun's excessive heat
Make our bodies swelter.

To an osier edge we get
For a friendly shelter ;

Where — in a dike—
Pearch or Pike,
Roach or Dace,
We do chase;
Bleak or Gudgeon,
Without grudging ;

We are still contented.

Or, we sometimes pass an hour
Under a green willow.

That defends us from a shower;
Making earth our pillew :

sVs

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. FART I^

Where, we may
Think and pray
Before death
Stops our breath.
Other jo^s
Are but toys,
And to be lamented*.

J. CHALKHILL.

* This, in its kind, Is a good song. The following, taken from Cotton*$
Foemsy 8vo. 1689, is to the same purpose; and well deserves a place
here.

I.

Away to the brook ,-

All your tackle out-look ;
Here's a day that is worth a year's wishing.

See that all things be right ;

For 'twould be a spight.
To want tools when a man goes a-fishing.

Your rody with tops t-wo ;

For the same will not do,
If your manner of angling you vary :

And full v/ell may you think, —

If you troll with a pink,
One too weak will be apt to miscarry.

in.

Then basket, neat made

By a master in's trade.
In a belt at your shoulders must dangle %

For none, e'er, was so vain

To wear this to disdain,
Who a true brother, was, of the angle.

IV.

Next, pouch must not fail ;

Stuff'd, as full as a mail.
With wax, crewels, silks, hair, furs, and feathers,—

To make several flies.

For the several skies,
That shall kill in despite of all weather*.

V.

The boxes and books
For your lines and your hooks ;
And, though not fpr strict need notwithstanding,

CHAP. XVI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 279

Ten. Well sung, master I this day's fortune, and
pleasure; and this night's company, and song; do.

Your scissars and hone
To adjust your points on;
With a net to be sure of your landing.

VI.

All these being on,

'Tis high time we were gone-
Down — and upward — that all may have pleasure

Till, here meeting at niajht.

We shall have the delight
To discourse of our fortunes at leisure,

VII.

The day's not too bright,

And the wind hits us right,
And all nature does seem to invite us j

We have all things at will

For to second our skill,
As they all did conspire to delight us,

VIII.

On stream now — or, still—

A large panier will [we'll] fill.
Trout and Grayling to rise are so willing ;

1 dare venture to say, —

'Twill be a bloody day.
And we all shall be weary of killing.

IX.

Away, then ! away !

We lose sport by delay.
But, first, leave all our sorrows behind u«:

If Miss Fortune $hould come,

We are all gone from home,—
And, a-fishing, she never can find us.

The angler is free

From the cares that Degree

Finds itself, with, so often, tormented.
And although we should slay.
Each, a hundred a day, —

*Ti« a slaughter needs ne'er be repented.

XI.

And though we display
All our arts, to betray
What were made for man's pleasure and diet

280 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

all, make me more and more in love with angling.
Gentlemen ! my master left me alone, for an hour, this
day; and I verily believe, he retired himself from talk-
ing with me, that he might be so perfect in this song,— -»
"Was it not, master ?

Yet both princes and states
May, for all our quaint baits,
Rule themselves and their people in quiet.

XII.

We scratch not our pates,

Nor repine, at the rates
Our superiors impose on our living:

But ^o frankly submit, —

Knowing they have more wit
In demanding, than we have in giving.,

XIIL

While quiet we sit.

We conclude all things fit;
Acquiescing with hearty submission:.

For, though simple, we know

That soft murmurs will grow,
At the last, unto downright sedition.

XIV.

We care not who says,

And intends it dispraise.
That an angler t' a fool is next neighbouK :

Let him prate; what care we ?

We're as honest as he ;
And 80 let him take that for his labour.

XV.

We covet no wealth

But the blessing of health ;
And that greater — good conscience within u«.

Such devotion we bring

To our God, and our King, —
That from either> no offers can win us.

XVI.

While we sit and fish, —

We pray, as we wish,
For long life to our king, James the Second.

Honest anglers, then, may, ,

CDr they've very foul play.
With the best of good subjects be reckon'd.

CHAP* XVI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. ggl

Pise, Yesj indeed ; for it is many years since I
learned it, — and having forgotten a part of it, I was
forced to patch it up by the help of mine own invention ;
who am not excellent at poetry, as my part of the song
may testify : but of that I will say no more, lest you
should think I mean, by discommending it, to beg your
commendations of it. And therefore, without replica-
tions, let's hear your catch, scholar ! which I hope will
be a good one ; for you are both musical, and have a
good fancy to-boot.

Ven, Marry ! and that you shall ; and as freely,
as I would have my honest master tell me some more
secrets offish and fishing, as we walk, and fish, towards
London to-morrow. But master ! first let me tell you.
That very hour which you were absent from me, I
sat down under a willow-tree by the water-side ; and
considered what you had told me — of the owner of that
pleasant meadow in which you then left me — that he had
a plentiful estate, and not a heart to think so ; that he
had, at this time many law-suits depending; and
that they, both damped his mirth, and took up so
much of his time and thoughts, that he himself had
not leisure to take the sweet content that /, who
pretended no title to them^ took in his fields * : for

* There is so much fine and useful morality included in this sentiment,
— that to let it pass would be inexcusable in one who pretends to illustrate
the author's meaning, or display his excellencies. The precept which he,
evidently, meant to inculcate; is a very comfortable one, i;iz. that some of
the greatest pleasures human-nature is capable of, lie open, and in common,
to the poor as well as the rich. It is not necessary, that a man should
have the fee-simple of all the land, in prospect from Windsor terras,
or Richmond hill, to enjoy the beauty of those two delightful
situations; nor can we imagine that no one, but lord Burlingtoii,
Was ever delighted in the view of his most elegant villa at Chis-
wick.

But that excellent moralist. Dr. Francis Hutcheson, late of Glasgow,
has a passage to this purpose; which is a much better comment on
this reflection than any we can give : " As often," says he, " as the
" more important offices of virtue allow any intervals, — our time is
« agreeably and honourably employed in history, natural or civil; in
«« geometry ; astronomy ; poetry ; painting ; and musick ; or, such enter-
«' tainments as ingenious arts afford. And some of the szueetest en-
•* joyments, of this sort, require no property ; nor need we, ever, want
** the objects. If familiarity abates the pleasure of the more obvious
*• beauties of nature, their more exquisite inward structures may give new

289 THE COMPLEtfi ANGLER, J>ART 1*

/ could there sit quietly ; and, looking on the water,
see some fishes sport themselves in the silver streams,
others leaping at flies of several shapes and colours,—
looking on the hills, I could behold them spotted
with woods and groves, — looking down the meadows,
could see, here, a boy gathering lillies and lady-
smocks, and, there, a girl croppijig culverkeys and
cowslips, all to make garlands suitable to this pre-
sent month of May : these, and many other field-
flowers, so perfumed the air, — that I thought that
very meadow like that field in Sicily of which Diodorus
speaks, where the perfumes arising from the place, make
all dogs that hunt in it to fall off, and to lose their
hottest scent, I say, as I, thus, sat; joying in my own
happy condition ; and pitying this poor rich-man, that
owned this and many other pleasant groves and meadows
about me ; I did thankfully remember what my Saviour
saidjihai the meek possess the earth, — or rather, they
ENJOY what the others possess and enjoy not ; for
anglers and meek quiet-spirited men, are free from those
high, those restless thoughts, which corrode the sweets
of life, — and they, and they only, can say; as the poet
has happily exprcst it :

Hail, blest estate of lowliness !

Happy enjoyments ! of such minds,
ASf rich in self-contentedness,

Can, like the reeds, in roughest winds, —
, By yielding, make that blow but small

At which proud oaks and cedars fall.

There came, also, into my mind at that time, certain
verses in praise of a mean estate and an humble mind:
they were written by Phineas Fletcher *; an excellent

« delights, and the stores of nature are inexhaustible." See his System of
Moral Philosophy y Book I. Chap. 7.

* It would be great injustice to the memory of this person whose
name is now hardly known, to pass him by without notice. The son
of Giles Fletcher, doctor of laws, and ambassador from Queen Elizabeth
to the Duke of Muscovy, — Phineas Fletcher was fellow of King's college,
Cambridge, and the author of a fine allegorical poem, intituled, the

CHAP. XVr. THE COMPLETE ANGLES. S83

divine, and an excellent angler ; and the author of
excellent Piscatory Eclogues^ in which you shall see
the picture of this good man's mind : And I wish mine
to be like it.

No empty hopes, no courtly fears him fright;

No begging wants his middle fortune bite :

But sweet content exiles, both, misery and spite.

Purple Island^ printed, at Cambridge, with other of his poems, in
4/0. 1633; from whence the passage in the text, with a little variation
is taken. The reader will not be displeased with a more entire quo-
tation from that work ; which for its elegant pastoral simplicity, I
could wish to see equalled.

Let others trust the seas, dare death and hell.

Search either Inde, vaunt of their scars and wounds :

Let others their dear breath — nay, silence — sell

To fools ; and — swoln, not rich — stretch out their boundi,-—

By spoiling those that live, and, wronging dead ;

That they may drink in pearl, — and couch their head

In soft, but sleepless down ; in rich, but restless bed.

Oh! let them, in their gold, quaff dropsies down ;

Oh ! let them surfeits feast, in silver bright ;
While sugar hires the taste, the brain to drown, —

And bribes of sauce corrupt false Appetite,
His master's rest, health, heart, life, soul to sell.
Thus, plenty — fulness — sickness — ring their knell t
Death weds, and beds them; first, in grave; and, then, in helL

But, ah! let me, under some Kentish hill.

Near rolling Med way, 'mong my shepherd peers,

With fearless merry-make and piping, still
Securely pass my few and slow-pac'd years :

While yet the great Augustus * of our nation [* K. 'jatnes il

Shuts up old Janus in this long cessation,

Strength'ning our pleasing ease, — and gives us sure vacation^

There may I, master of a little flock,

Feed my poor lambs, and often change their fare.

My lovely mate shall tend my sparing stock?;
And nurse my little- ones, with pleasing care.

Whose love and look shall speak their father plain.

Health be my feast; — heav'n, hope; content, my gain*

So in my little house, my lesser heart shall reign.

The beech shall yield a cool, safe canopy.

While down I sit, and chaunt to th' echoing wood.

Ah! singing, might I live : and, singing, die ;
So, by fair Thames, or eilver Medway's flood—

284: THE COMPLETE ANGLER, f ART I^

His certain life, that never can deceive him^
Is full of thousand sweets, and rich content ;

The smooth'd-leav'd beeches in the field receive him.
With coolest shade, till noon-tide's heat be spent.

The dying swan, when years her temples pierce,

In musick-strains, breathes out her life and verse;

And, ehaunting her own dirge, tides on her vyatry hearse.

Purple Island. Canto I.

The innocence of angling ; the delightful scenes with which it is con-
versant; and its associated pleasures of ease, retirement, and meditation;
have been a motive to the introduction of a new species of eclogue,
where fishers are actors, as shepherds are in the pastoral. Mr. Addison,
it is true, has censured Sannazarius for such an attempt : but it is to be
remembered, that his are sea-eclogues; the very idea of which is, surely.
Inconsistent with the calmness and tranquillity of the pastoral life, — not
to say, that oysters and cray-fish are no very elegant or persuasive bribes
to the favour of a mistress. But the ancient writers of Pastoral — Bion,
Theocritivs, Moschus, and others — included, under that species, the man-
ners of heirdsmen, vine-dressers, and others ; and why those of fishers
are to be excluded, the legislators of Pastoral would do well to in-
form us.

Of those who have attempted this kind of poetry, the above-men-
tioned Mr. Fletcher is one ; and in the same volume with the Purple
Island are several poems, which he calls Piscatory Eclogues^ from whence
theJoUowing passage is extracted.

Ah? would thou knew'st how much it better were

To bide among the simple fisher-swains.
No shrieking owl, no night-crow lodgeth here;
Nor is our simple pleasure mix'd with pains.
Our sports begin with the beginning year:
In cahns — to pull the leaping fish to land ;
In roughs — to sing, and dance along the golden sand.

1 have a pipe, which once thou lovedst well;
(Was never pipe that gave a better sound;)
Which, oft, to hear, fair Thetis from her cell —

Thetis, the queen of seas, attended round
With hundred nymphs, and many pow'rs that dwell
In th' ocean *s rocky walls — came up to hear ;
And gave me gifts, which still for thee lie hoarded here.

Here, with sweet bays, the lovely myrtles grow.

Where th' ocean's fair-cheek'd maidens oft repair ;
Here, to my pipe they dancen on a row.

No other swains may come to note they're fair:
Yet my Amyntas, there, with me shall go.
Proteus himself pipes to his flocks hereby,
Whom thou shalt hear^ ne'er setn by any jealous eye.

Eclogue I-

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CHAP. XVI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER 285

His life is neither tost in boist'rous seas,

Or the vexatious world ; or lost in slothful ease.

Pleas'd and full blest, he lives, when he his God can please.

His bed, more safe than soft, yields quiet sleeps.
While hy his side his faithful spouse hath place ;

His little son, into his bosom creeps.
The lively picture of his father's face.

His humble house, or poor sta^e, ne'er torment him;

Less he could like, if less his God had lent him.

And when he dies, green turfs do for a tomb content him.

Gentlemen ! these were a part of the tlioughts that
then possess'd me. And I, llicre, made a conversion
of a piece of an old catch*, and added more to it;

And — besides Mr. Phineas Fletcher— a gentleman now living, the
Rev. Mr. Motes Broivne, has obliged the world with Piscatory Eclogues,
which I would recommend to all lovers of poetry and angling; ana am
much mistaken if the fifth of them, intitled Renock^s Despair., is not, by
far, the best imitation of Milton's Lycidasy that has ever yet appeared.

* The song here sung can in no sense of the word be termed a catch :
It was probably set to musick at the request of Walton, and is to be found
in a book, entitled, Select Ay res and Dialogues for one^ tivo, and three Voyces ;
io the Theorbo-Lute and Basse Viol. By JoKn Wilson and Charles Coleman,
doctors in musick, Henry Lawes and others. Fol. London, 1659. It occurs
in the first edition of Walton's book, published in 1 653.

The reader is not to wonder at this motion of Venator^ Sy nor that Ptjco"
tor so readily accepts it. At the time when Walton wrote, and long before, —
musick was so generally well understood, that a man who had any voice
or ear, was always supposed to be able to sing his part, in a madrigal
or song, at sight. Peacham requires of his gentleman, only to be able
** to sing his part sure, and at the first sight ; and, withal, to play the
" same on the viol or lute." Compl. Gent. 100. And Philomathes, in
Morley's excellent Introduction to practical musick, fol. Land, 1597, thus com-
plains ; [at the banquet of master Sophobulus] " Supper bemg ended ;
" and musick-books, according to cu-;tom, being brought to table, the
** mistress of the house presented me with a part, earnestly requesting me
*• to sing. But when, after many excuses, I protested unfeignedly, that
" I could not, — every one began to wonder; yea, some whispered to
*• others, demanding how I was brought up. So that, upon shame of
•• mine ignorance, I go, now, to seek out mine old friend, naaster Gno-
" rimus, to make myself his scholar."

Another circumstance, which shews how generally musick was formerly
known and practised in England, occurred to me, upon the sight of an
old Book of Enigmas; to every one of which the author has prefixed
a wooden cut of the subject of the enigma. 'I'he solution to one of these,
is — A barber: and the cut represents a barber's shop, in which there is
one person sitthig in a chair under the barber's hands; while another,

R

^6 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. TAUT 1.

fitting them to be sung by us anglers. Come, master I
you can sing well ; you must sing a part of it as it
is in this paper.

who is waiting for his turn, is playing on the lute; and on the side of the
shop, hangs another instrument of the lute or cittern kind. The inference
I draw from hence is: that, formerly, a lute was considered as a necessary-
part of the furniture of a barber's shop, and answered the end of a news-
paper, the now common amusement of waiting customers; which it
would never have done, if musick had not, as is above observed, been ge-
nerally known and practised.

In an old comedy of Dekker's, entitled, " The second part of the ho-
" nest Whore," printed in Dodsley's Collection, vol. iii. edit. 1780, Matheo
speaking of his wife, terms her, " a barber s eitterne for every serving-man
*• to play upon."

This instrument grew into disuse about the beginning of this century.
Dr. King, taking occasion to mention the barbery of his time, says, " that
«' turning themselves to perriwig-making, they had forgot their cittern
" and their musick." Works of Dr. WiUiam King, vol. ii. p, 79.

And the knowledge of this fact will enable us to explain and justify a
passage in Ben Jonson's comedy of The Silent Woman, which none of his
annotators seem to have understood. Morose, in act III. scene 5. of that
play — after he has discovered that his supposed wife can talk, and that to
the purpose too — cries out, of Cutberd, " That cursed barber; -I have
*• married his Cittern that's common to all men." Mr. Upton, in his
Notes on that play, supposes we should read Cistern, i. e. the common sink,
the common sewer, cistern, or receptacle: or, he says, we may read
Cittern in a sense that has no relation to a barber's shop. But whe-
ther the circumstance above-mentioned, does not render any such conjec-
tures needless, the ingenious reader will determine.

Mr. Henry Latues, who composed the musick to this song, was the Pur-
cell of the age he lived in : Mr. Waller has honoured him with a Copy of
Verses, inscribed « To Mr. Henry Lawes, who had then new set a song of
*' mine, in the year 1635." And Milton has celebrated his merit in an ele-
gant sonnet, " to Mr. H. Lawes, on his airs," Milton was an excellent
judge, and performer, of musick; a particular which, as it has been very
superficially mentioned by the many writers of his life, it may not be amiss
to enlarge on here. And, first, we are to know, that his affection to this art
was, in some sort, hereditary; for his father was not only a lover, but a
composer of musick : the common melody, known by the name of Tork
psalm-tune, which most country chimes play, and half the nurses in thi^
kingdom sing by way of lullaby, was of his composition, as appears by Ra-
venscroft's Collection of Psalm-tunes, and other evidences. He also composed
many Madrigals, in four and five parts: some of which are to be seen in the
Triumphs of Oriana ; a collection of madrigals to five and six voices, com-
posed by divers authors, 4to. Lond. 1601; and in other collections. And
lastly, it appears from the Life of Milton, by his nephew Philips, prefixed
to a Translation of some of his Letters of State, printed in 12mo. 1694,
that Milton the father, composed an In Nomine, of forty parts ; for
which he was rewarded, by a Polish prince to whom he presented it,
with a gold medal and chain. And we are also told, by the above
mentioned nephew of Milton, that when he was upon his travels,
he collected a chest or two of choice musick-book» of the best masters

CHAP. XVI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 287

Pc/. I *, marry, Sir ! this is musick *Forzye, as some-
indeed ; this has chear'd my heart, and *f^" '" Shakespeare,
made me to remember six verses in
praise of musick, which I will speak to you instantly.

Musick ! miraculous rhet'rick, that speak'st sense

Without a tongue, excelling eloquence ;

With what ease might thy errors he excus'd,

Wert thou as truly lov'd as th' art abus'd !

But though dull souls neglect, and some reprove thee,

I cannot hate thee, 'cause the Angels love thee +.

flourishing at that time in Italy, namely, Luca Marenzio, Monteverde,
Horatio Vecchi, Cifra, the Prince of Venosa, and others.

It should seem that Lawes and Milton were well acquainted, for the
former composed the original musick to the masque o( Comus ; and, at the
exhibition of that performance at Ludlow-castle, acted the part of the at-
tendant spirit. The best account extant of him, except that in the Atben.
Oxon, is contained in Mr. Fenton's note on the poem of Mr. Waller, above-
mentioned.

And, now I am upon this subject, I will tell the reader a secret ; which
is, That musick was, in its greatest perfection, in Europe, from about the
middle of the sixteenth to the beginning of the seventeenth century ; when,
with a variety of treble-instruments, a vicious taste was introduced, and
vocal harmony received its mortal wound. In this period, — ^flourished
Palestrina ; the Prince of Venosa ; and the several other authors above-
mentioned to have been collected by Milton ; and, to the immortal honour
of this nation, our own Tallis and Byrd ; and, some years after — in the
more elegant kinds of composition, such as madrigals, canzonets, b'f.—
Wilbye, Weelkes, Bennet, Morley, Bateson, and others, whose works
shew deep skill and fine invention,

I See these Verses, with some small variation ; at the end of the book,
entitled. Select Ayret and Dialoguesy referred to from pa. 189, n.; with
" IV. D. knight," imder the bottom line, which I take to signify, that
they were written by Sir William Davenant.

And let me be excu»ed, if, from the same book, I here insert the fol
lowing verses, on the subject of musick, written by Mr. Thomas Ran*
dolph, and printed among his poems.

Musick ! thou queen of souls, get up and string
Thy pow'rful lute : and some sad Requiem sing,
Till rocks requite thy echo with a groan,
And the dull cliffs repeat the duller tone :
Then, on a sudden, with a nimble hand.
Run gently o'er the chords ; and, so, command
The pine to dance, the oak his roots forego.
The holm and aged elm to foot it too ;
Myrtles shall caper, lofty cedars run.
And call the courtly palm to make up one ;
—Then, in the midst of all their jolly train.
Strike a sad note ; and fix them trees again*
B 2

288 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART T.

Ven, And the repetition of these last verses, of
musick, has called to my memory what Mr. Ed.
Waller, a lover-of-the-angle *, says of lore and musick.

While I listen to th^ voice,

Chloris ! I feel my life decay ;
That powerful noise

Calls my fleeting- soul away:
Oh ! suppress that magic sound.
Which destroy g without a wooad.

Peace, Chloris ! peace : or, singing die,
That, together, you and I

To heaven may go ;

For all we know
Of what the blessed do above.
Is — that they sing, and that they love.

Pisc. Well remembered, brother Peter ! these verses
came seasonably ; and we thank you heartily. Come !

* As the author's concern for the honour of angling, induced him t«
•numerate such persons of note as were lovers of that recreation, — the
reader will allow me to add Mr. John Gay to the number. Any one
who reads the first canto of his Georgic, intitled Rural Sports, and ob-
serves how beautifully and accurately he treats the subject of fly-fishing,
would conclude the author a proficient : but that it was his chief amuse-
ment, I have been assured, by an intimate friend of mine ; who has fre-
quently fished with him in the river Kennet, at Amesbury in Wilts, the
seat of his grace the Duke of Queensberry .

The Reader will excuse the following addition to this note, for the
sake of a beautiful description of the materials used in fly-making,
whicii is quoted from the above-mentioned poem.

To frame the little animal, — provide

All the gay hues that wait on female pride : —

l*et nature guide thee ; sometimes golden wire

The shining bellies of the fly require ;

The Peacock's plumes thy tackle must not fail,

Nor the dear purchase of the sable's tail ;

Each gaudy bird some slender tribute brings.

And lends the growing insect proper w'ings ;

Silks, of all colours, must their aid impart.

And ev'ry fur promote the fisher's art ; —

So the gay lady, with expensive care.

Borrows the pride of land, of sea, of air ;

Furs, pearls, and plumes, the glitt'ring thing displays,

Dazzles our eyes, and easy hearts betrays.

€HAP. XVI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 289

we will all join together, my host and all, and sing my
scholar's catch over again ; and then each man drink
the other cup, and to bed ; and, thank God ! we have
a dry house over our heads.

Pise, Well ! now, good night to every body.

Pet. And so say I.

Ven, And so say I.

Cor, Good night to you all; and I thank you.

Pise, Good-morrow, brother Peter! and the like
to you , honest Coridon !

Come ! my hostess says there is seven shillings to
pay, let's each man drink a pot for his morning's
draught, and lay down his two shillings, that so my
hostess may not have occasion to repent herself of
being so diligent, and using us so kindly.

Pet, The motion is liked by ev.ery body : and so
hostess ! here's your money ; we anglers are all behold-
ing to you, it will not be long ere I'll see you again
And now, brother Piscator ! 1 wish you, and my bro-
ther your scholar, a fair day and good fortune. Come ,
Coridon ! this is our way.

h3

290 THE COMPLETE ANttLER. PAUT I.

CHAPTER XVII.

Of Roach and Dace, and how to fish for them; and
of Cadis,

Venator.

GOOD master ! as we go now towards London, be
still so courteous as to give me more instructions ; for I
have several boxes ip my memory, in which I will
keep them all very safe, there shall not one of them be
lost.

Pise. Well, scholar ! that I will : and I will hide
nothing from you that I can remember, and can think
may help you forward towards a perfection in this art.
And because we have so much time, and I have said so
little of Roach and Dace, I will give you some direc-
tions concerning them.

Some say the Roach is so called, from rutilus^
which, they say, signifies red fins. He is a fish of no
great reputation, for his dainty taste ; and his spawn is
accounted much better than any other part of him.
And you may take notice, That as the Carp is account-
ed the water-fox, for his cunning; so the Roach is
accounted the water-sheep, for his simplicity or fool-
ishness. It is noted, that the Roach and Dace recover
strength, and grow in season, in a fortnight after
spawning ; the Barbel and Chub, in a month ; the
Trout, in four months, — and the Salmon, in the like
time, if he gets into the sea, and, after, into fre^h
water.

Roaches be accounted much better in the river than
in a pond, though ponds usually breed the biggest.
But there is a kind of bastard small Roach, that breeds
in ponds, with a very forked tail, and of a very small
size; which, some say, is bred by the Bream and right
Roach ; and some ponds are stored with these beyon4

CHAP. XVII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 291

belief; and knowing men that know their difference,
call them Ruds : they differ from the true Roach, as
much as a Herring from a Pilchard. And these bastard
breed of Roach are now scattered in many rivers : but,
I think, not in the Thames, which I believe affords the
largest and fattest in this nation, especially below
London-bridge *. The Roach is a leather- mouthed fish,
and has a kind of saw-like teeth in his throat. And
lastly, let me tell you, the Roach makes an angler ex-
cellent sport, especially the great Roaches about Lon-
don; where, I think, there be the best Roach-anglers.

* I know not what Roaches are caught belotu bridge; but, above^ I am
sure they are very large; for on the 15th of September, 1754, at Hamp-
ton, I caught one that was fourteen inches and an eighth from eye to
fork, and in weight wanted but an ounce of two pounds.

The season for fishing for Roach in the Thames, begins about the latter
end of August, and tontinues much longer than it is either pleasant or safe
to fish. It requires some skill, to hit the time-of-taking-them exactly ;
for, all the Summer long, they live on the weed, — which they do not for-
sake, for the deeps, till it becomes putrid, and that is sooner or later, ac-
cording as the season is wet or dry; for you are to know, that much rain
hastens the rotting of the weed. 1 say it requires some skill to hit the
time; for the fishermen who live in all the towns along the river, from
Chiswick to Staines, are — about this time — nightly, upon the watch, as
soon as the fish come out, to sweep them away with a drag-net : and our
poor patient angler is left, baiting the ground, and adjusting his tackle, to
catch those very fish which, perhaps, the night before had. been carried
to Billingsgate.

The Thames — as well above, as below, London-bridge — was, formerly,
much resorted to by the London anglers : and, which is strange to think
on, considering the unpleasantness of the station, they were used to fish
near the starlings of the bridge. This will account for the many fish-
ing-tackle shops that were formerly in Crooked-lane, which leads to the
bridge. In the memory of a person, not long since living,— a water-
man that plied at Essex stairs, his name John Reeves, got a comfort-
able living by attending anglers with his boat ; his method was to watch
when the shoals of Roach came down from the country, and when he
had found them, to go round to his customers and give them notice.
Sometimes, they settled opposite the Temple; at others, at Black-
friars or Queen-hithe, — but most frequently about the Chalk-hills, near
London-bridge. His hire was two shillings a tide. A certain number of
persons who were accustomed, thus, to employ him, — raised a sum suf-
ficient to buy him a waterman's coat, and silver badge, the impress
whereof was, " Himself, with an Angler, in his Boat ;" and he had, an-
nually, a new coat to the time of his death, which might be about the
year 1730.

Shepperton and Hampton are the places, chiefly, resorted to by the
Londoners ; who angle there in boats; at each, there is a large deep, to
which Roach are attracted by constant baiting. That at Hampton is op-
posite the church-yard; and in that cemetery, lies an angler upon whose

292

THE COMPLETE ANGLER,

PART 1.

And, I think, the best Trout-anglers be in Derbyshire;
for the waters, there, arc clear to an extremity.
Next, let me tell you, you shall fish for this

■p n A rgj^

jrravft- stone is an Inscription, now nearly effaced, consisting of these homely
lines.
In memory of Mr. Thomas Tombs, goldsmith, of London, who depart-
ed this life Aug. 12th, 1758, aged 53 years.

Each brother Bob ! that, sportive, passes here.
Pause at this stone ; and drop the silent tear.
For him who lov'd your harmless sport ;
Who to this Pitch * did oft resort ;
Who in free converse oft would please,
With native humour, mirth and ease;
His actions form'd upon so just a plan,—
Hcliv'd, a worthy, — died, an honest man.

Before I dismiss the subject of Thames-fishing, — I will let the reader
know, that formerly the fishermen inhabiting the villages on the banks
of the Thames, were used to inclose certain parts of the river— with
what they called stojiSf but which were in effect ivearsy or iidels — by
stakes driven into the bed thereof; and to these they tied weels,
creating, thereby, a current which drove the fish into those traps. This
practice, though it may sound oddly to say so, is against Magna Cbartay
and is expressly prohibited by the 23d chapter of that statute : In the year
1757, the Lord Mayor, Dickenson, sent the Water-Bailiff, up the
Thames in a barge well manned and furnished with proper implements ;
who destroyed all those inclosures on this side of Staines, by pulling up
the stakes and setting them adrift.

* A particular spot, called a Pitch, from the act of pitching or fastening
tlie boat there.

CHAP. XVII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 2§^

in Winter, with paste or gentles; in April, with worms
or cadis ; in the very hot months, with little white
snails ; or, with flies under water, for he seldom takes
them at the top, though the Dace will. In many of
the hot months. Roaches may also be caught thus :
take a May-fly, or ant-fly, sink him with a little lead
to the bottom — near to the piles, or posts, of a bridge;
or near to any posts of a wear ; I mean, any deep place
where Roaches lie quietly — and, then, pull your fly up
very leisurely ; and, usually, a Roach will follow your
bait up to the very top of the water, and gaze on it
there, and run at it and take it, lest the fly should fly
away from him

I have seen this done at Windsor and Henley-bridge,
and great store of Roach taken, — and, sometimes, a
Dace or Chub. And in August, you may fish for them
Avith a paste made only of the crumbs of bread, which
should be of pure fine manchet ; and that paste must
be so tempered, betwixt your hands, till it be, both soft
and tough, too: a very little water, and time and la-
bour, and clean hands, will make it a most excellent
paste :— -But when you fish with it, — you must have a
small hook, a quick eye, and a nimble hand ; or, the
bait is lost, and the fish, too, if one may lose that which
he never had : — With this paste, you may, as I said,
take both the Roach, aud the Dace or Dare :

m>A€m

for they be much of n kind ; ia matter of feeding^

294; "THE COMPLETE ANGLEH. PART 1.

cunning^, goodness ; and, usually, in size. And there-
fore take this general direction, for some other baits
which may concern you to take notice of: they will
bite almost at any iiy, but especially at Ant-flies ;
concerning which, take this direction, for it is very
good.

Take the Blackish Ant fly, out of the molehill, or ant-
hill ; in which place you shall find them in the month
of June, — or, if that be too early in the year, then,
doubtless, you may find them in July, August, and
most of September. Gather them, alive, with both
their wings; And then put them into a glass that will
hold a quart or a pottle, — but, first, put into the glass
a handful, or more, of the moist earth out of which you.
gather them, and as much of the roots of the grass of the
said hillock ; and then put in the flies gently, that they
lose not their wings : lay a clod of earth over it ; and,
then so many as are put into the glass without bruising,
will live there a month or more, and be always in
readiness for you lo fish with : But if you would
have them keep longer, — then get any great earthen
pot, or barrel of three or four gallons, which is better ;
then wash your barrel with water and honey, — and,
having put into it a quantity of earth and grass-roots,
then put in your flies, and cover it, and they will live a
quarter of a year. These, in any stream and clear
water, are a deadly bait for Roach or Dace, or for a
Chub : And your rule is to fish not less than a handful
from the bottom.

I shall next tell you a Winter-hait for a Roach, a
Dace, or Chub ; and it is choicely good. About All-
hallantide, and, so till frost comes, — when you see men
ploughing up heath ground, or sandy ground, or green-
swards J then follow the plough, and you shall find a
white worm as big as two maggots, and it hath a red
head : you may observe in what ground most are ; for,
there, the crows will be very watchful and follow the
plough very close :— it is all soft, and full of whitish
guts ; a worm that is, in Norfolk and some other coun-
ties, called a grub ; and is bred of the spawn or eggs
of a beetle, which she leaves in holes that she digs in
the ground under cow or horse-dung, — and, there, rests
all Winter, — and, in March or April, comes to be first

CHAP. XVII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 2?)5

a red, and then a black beetle. Gather a thousand, or
two, of those ; and put them, with a peck or two of
their own earth, into some tub or firkin, — and cover and
keep them so warm, that the frost or cold air, or winds
kill them not : these you may keep all winter : and
kill fish with them at any time; and if you put
some of them into a little earth and honey, a day be-
fore you use them, — you will find them an excel-
lent bait for Bream, Carp, or indeed for almost any
fish.

And after this manner you may also keep gentles, all
winter; which are a good bait then, and much the bet-
ter for being lively and tough. Or, you may breed
and keep gentles thus: take a piece of beast's liver;
and, with a cross stick, hang it, in some corner, over
a pot or barrel half-full of dry clay, — and as the gentles
grow big, thty will fall into the barrel and scour them-
selves, and be always ready for use whensoever you
incline to fish ; and these gentles may be, thus, created
till after Michaelmas. But if you desire to keep gen-
tles to fish with, all the year, — then get a dead cat, or a
kite, and let it be ily -blown ; and when the gentles be-
gin to be alive and to stir, — then bury it, and them,
in soft moist earth, but as free from frost as you can;
and these you may dig up at any time when you in-
tend to use them ; these will last till March, and
about that time turn to be flies.

But if you be nice to foul your fingers, which good
anglers seldom are, — then take this bait ; get a handful
of well-made malt, and put it into a dish of water ;
and then wash, and rub, it betwixt your hands till you
make it clean, and as free from husks as 3^ou can;
then put that water from it ; and put a small quantity
of fresh water to it, — and set it, in something that is fit
for that purpose, over the fire, where it is not to boil
apace, but leisurely and very softly, until it become
somewhat soft, which you may try, by feeling it be-
twixt your finger and thumb; and when it is soft,
then put your water from it : And, then, take a sharp
knife, and, turning the sprout end of the corn upward,
with the point of your knife, take the back part of the

» 4

596 THE COMPLETE ANGLEH. PART I,

husk off from it, and yet leaving a kind of inward linsk
on the corn, or else it is marr'd ; and then cut off' tliat
sprouted end, 1 mean a little of it, that the white may
appear; (and, so, pull off the husk on the cloven
side, as I directed you:) and then cut off a very
little of the other end, that so your hook may enter;
and if your hook be small and good, — you will find
this to be a very choice bait, either for winter or sum-
mer, you sometimes casting a little of it into the place
where your float swims.

And to take the Roach and Dace, a good bait is : the
young brood of wasps or bees, if you dip their heads
in blood ; especially good, for Bream, — if they be
baked, or hardened in their husks, in an oven, after the
bread is taken out of it, or hardened on a fire-shovel :
And so, also, is: the thick blood of sheep, being half
dried on a trencher, that so you may cut it inlo such
pieces as may best fit the size of your hook ; and a little
salt keeps it from growing black, and mak( s it not tlie
worse but better : this is taken to be a choice bait if
rightly ordered.

There be several oils of a strong smell, that I have
been told of, and, to be excellent to tempt fish to bite ;
of which 1 could say much : but I remember I once
carried a small bottle from Sir George Hastings to Sir
Henry Wotton, they were both chemical men, as a
great present ; it was sent, and received, and used, with
great confidence ; and yet, upon enquiry, I found it
did not answer the expectation of Sir Henry, — which,
with the help of this and other circumstances, makes
me haA^e little belief in such things as many men talk
of. Not but that I think fishes both smell and hear, as
I have exprest in my former discourse : but there is a
mysterious knack, which though it be much easier
than the philosopher's stone, yet it is not attainable by
common capacities, — oi\, else lies locked up in the
brain, or breast of some chemical man, that like the
Rosicrucians *, will not yet reveal it. But let me ne-

• f^ide ante, p. 203, b* infruy Part II. Chap. I. note.

The Roiicrueians were a sect of frantic enthusiasts, who sprung up in

CUAP.XVII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 297

vertheless tell you, That camphire put, with moss,
into your worm-bag with your worms, makes them, if
many anglers be not very much mistakefi, a tempting
bait, and the angler more fortunate. But I stepped,
by cfiance, into this discourse of oils, and fishes^ smell-
ino^ ; and though there miglit be more said, bolh of it
and of baits f(»r Roach and Dace and other tloat-fisli,
y^i I will forbear it at this time* : And, lell you, in

Germany about the beginning of the 14th century; they professed to
teach the art of making gold; and boasted of a secret, in their power, to
protract the period of human life, and even to restore youth. Their
founder having been to the Holy-Land, pretended to have learned all this
from the Arabs. '1 hey propagated their senseless philosophy by tradition;
and revealed their mysteries only to a chosen few, — and to this practice,
the author alludes. Lemery, in his book Of Chemistry^ has thus defined their
art ; •' Ars sine arte ; citjus principium meniiri, medium labor are l^ Jinis men-
** dicare,'^ An art without art ; whose beginning is lying, whose middle
is labour, and whose end is beggary.

* Roach delight in gravelly or sandy bottoms : their haunts, espe-
cially as winter approaches, are clear deep and still waters ; at other times,
they lie in and near the weeds, and under the shade of boughs.

I'liey spawn about the latter end of May, when they are scabby and
unwholesome : but they are again in order, in about three weeks. The
largest are taken after Michaelmas; and their prime season is in February
or March.

'i'ht: Baits for Roach y not already mentioned, are: cad-bait and oak-
worms, for the spring; — in May, ant's-eggs; and paste, made of the
crumbs of a new roll, — both white, and tinged with red, which is dona
by putting vermihon into the water wherewith you moisten it; — thi»
paste will do for the Winter, also.

'I'he largest Roach in this kingdom are taken in the Thames, where
many have been caught of two pounds and a half weight: but Roach oi
any size^ are hardly to be come at without a boat-

The haunts of Dace, art: gravelly, sandy, and clayey bottoms; deep
holes that are shaded; water-lilly leaves; and under the foam caused by
an eddy : In hot weather, they are' to be found on the shallows; and are,
then, best taken with an artificial fly, grashoppers, or gentles, as hereafter
directed.

Dace spawn about the latter end of March : and are in season about
three weeks after ; they are not very good till about Michaelmas, — and
are best in February.

Baits for Dace^ other than those mentioned by Walton, are : the oak-
worm; red-worm; brandling; gilt-tail; and indeed any worm, bred on
trees or bushes, that is not too big for his mouth ; almost all kinds of fliet
and caterpillars.

I'hough Dace are often caught with a float, as Roach, — yet they are not
$0 properly float-fish ; For they are to be taken with an artificial gnat,
or ant-fly, or indeed, almost auy other small fly in its season^ — ^but in tte
T]l#».me$, abovv Richmond, the largest are caught with a natural greeo or

298 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PATIT I.

the next place, liow you are to prepare your tackling :
concerning which, I will, for sport-sake, give you an

dun grashopper, and sometimes with gentles ; with both which you are
to fish as with an artificial fly. They are not to be come at till about
September, when the weeds begin to rot : but when you have found
where they lie, which, in a warm day, is generally on the shallows ; *ti»
incredible what havock you may make ; Pinch off the first joint of the
grashcpper's legs, put the point of the hook, in at the head, and bring it
out at the tail ; and in this way of fishing you will catch Chub, especially
if you throw under the boughs.

But this can be done only in a boat; for the management whereof,
be provided with a staff, and a heavy stone fastened to a strong rope
of four or five yards in length ; fasten the rope to the head of the
boat, which, whether it be a punt or a wherry, is equally fit for this
purpose, and so drive down with the stream: when you come to a
shallow, or other place where the fish are likely to lie, — drop the
stone, and, standing in the stern, throw right down the stream, and a
little to the right and left: after trying about a quarter of an hour
in a place, — with the staff push the boat about five yards down, and
so throw again. Use a common fly-line, about ten yards long, with a
strong single hair next the hook.

It is true, there is less certainty of catching in this way than with a
float or ground-bait : for which reason, I would recommend ir, only to
those who live, near the banks of that delightful river, between Wind-
sor and Islewortli, — who have or can command a boat for that pur-
pose, and can take advantage of a still, warm, gloomy day; and to
such it will afford much more diversion, than the ordinary inartificial
method of fishing in the deeps for Roach and Dace.

In fishing at bottom, for Roach and Dace, — use, for ground-bait,
bread, soked about an hour in water, and an equal quantity of bran;
knead them to a tough consistence, and make them up into balls,
with a small pebble in the middle : and throw these balls in, where
you fish; but be sure to throw them up the stream, for otherwise
they will draw the fish beyond the reach of your line.

Fish for Roach, within six, — and, for Dace, within three inches of
the bottom.

Having enumerated the Baits ip-oper for every kind of fish, in
their respective places, — it may not be amiss, here to mention one
which many authors speak of as excellent for aunost all fish ; and thai
is, the spawn of Salmon, or, large Trout. Barker, who seems to have
been the first that discovered it, recommends it to his patron in the fol-
lowing terms :

" Noble Lord,
«' I have found an experience of late; which you may angle with,
" and take great store of this kind of fish. First, It is the best bait
*' for a Trouty that I have seen in all my time ; and will take great
*♦ store, and not Jfail, if they be there. Secondly, It is a special bait
« for Dace or Dare, good for Chub or Bottlin, or Grayling. The bait
"^s, the ROE OF A Salmon or Trout ; if it be a large Trout that
" the spawns be any thing great, — you may angle for the Trout with

CnAP. XVII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 299^

old rliyme out of an old fisli book ; which will prove a
part, and but a part, of what you are to provide.

" this bait as you angle with the brandlin ; taking a pair of scissars,
" and cut so much as a large hazel-nut, and bait your hook; so fall
" to your sport, there is no doubt of pleasure. If I had known it
*' but twenty years ago — I would have gained a hundred pounds, only
** with that bait. I am bound in duty to divulge it to your honour,
" and not to carry it to my grave with me, I do desire that men
" of quality, should have it, that delight in that pleasure. 'Ihe greedy
«' angler will murmur at me : but for that, I care not.

« For the angling for the Scale-fish : They must angle, either with
'* cork or quill, plumming their ground, — and with feeding with the
" same bait, taking them [the spawns] asunder, that they may spread
*♦ abroad, that the fish may feed, and come to your place: there is
** no doubt of pleasure ; angling with — fine tackle ; as single hair Unes,
" at least five or six lengths long ; a small hook, — with two or three
" spawns. The bait will hold one week ; if you keep it on any longer,
" you must hang it up to dry a little, — when you go to your plea-
** sure again, put the bait in a httle water, it will come in kind
" again."

Others, to preserve Salmon spawn, sprinkle It with a little salt, and
lay it upon wool in a pot, one layer of wool, and another of spawn.
It is said to be a lovely bait, for the winter or spring; especially
where salmon are used to spawn, — for thither the fish gather, and
there expect it. Ang. Vade Mecum^ 53.

To know, at any time, what bait, fish are apt to take : open the
belly of the first you catch ; and take out his stomach very tenderly,
—open it with a sharp penknife, and you* will discover what he then
feeds on. Venables, 91. {^/Ind see Part II. Chap. VII. February^ 8. n.]

The people who Uve in the fishing-towns along the banks of the
Thames, have a method of dressing large Roach and Dace, which,
as 'tis said, renders them a very pleasant and savoury food ; it is as
follows : Without scahug the fish, lay him on a gridiron, over a sIomt
fire, and strew on him a little flour : when he begins to grow brown,
make a slit, not more than skin deep, in his back, from head to tail,
and lay him on again : when he is broiled enough, the skin, scales
and all, will peel off, and leave the flesh, which will have become
very firm, perfectly clean; then open the belly, and take out the in-
side, and use anchovy and butter for sauce.

Having promised the reader Mr. Barker's recipe for anointing boots
and shoes, (and having no further occasion to make use of his autho-
rity,) it is here given in his own words :

«• Take a pint of linseed-oil, with half a pound of mutton-suet, six or
" eight ounces of bees wax, and half a pennyworth of rosin : boil all
«' this in a pipkin, together: so, let it cool till it be milk-warm— then,
« take a little hair-brush, and lay it on your new boots: but it is
" best that this stuff be laid-on, before the boot«maker makes the boots,
*' — then brush them, once over, after they come from him : as for old
f boots, — you must lay it on, when your boots be dry."

300 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART T.

Mj rod and my line; my float and my lead ;

M^' hook and mv plummet; my whetstone and knife;
Jiy basket, my baits both living and dead ;

My net; and m* meat, for that is the chief:
Then I must have thread, and hairs green and small,
With mine angling purse. And so j'ou have all.

But you must have all these tackling, and twice so
many more*; with which, if you meau to be a fisher,

• If you go any great distance from home, — you will find it necessary to
carry with you, many more things than are here enumerated ; most of
which may be, very well, contained in a wicker panier of about twelve
inches wide, and eight high, of the form — aud put into a hawking-bag —
as in Fig. 10. Plate XI. The following is a list of the most material: A
rod with a spare top ; lines coiled up, and neatly laid in round flat boxes ;
•pare links, single hairs, waxed thread, and silk; plummets of various sizes
of the form of Fig. 1 1 . Plate XI. floats of all kinds, and spare caps ; worm-
bags, and a gentle-box. Fig. 12. Plate XI. books of all sizes, some whipped
to single hairs ; shot ; shoe-maker's- wax, in a very small gallipot covered
■with a bit of leather ; a clearing ring, tied to about six yards of strong
cord, of the shape of Fig. 13. Plate XI. the use of this is to disengage
your hook when it has caught a weed, life in which case take off" the butt
of your rod, and slip the ring over the remaining joints, and, holding it by
the cord, let it gently fall; a landing net, the hoop whereof must be of
iron, and made with joints to fold, in the shape of Fig. 14. Plate XI. and a
socket to hold a staff". Fig. 15. Take with you also such baits as you intend
to use. That you may keep your fish alive,— be provided with a small
hoop-net, to draw close to the top. And never be ivithout a sharp knife,
and a'p^'*" ^^ scissars. And if you mean to use the artificial fly, have your
fly-book always with you.

And, for the more convenient keeping and carriage of lines, links, single
hairs, Iffc, — take a piece of parchment or vellum, seven inches by ten: on
the longer sides, set-off' four inches; and then fold it cross-wise, so as to
leave a flap of two inches, of which hereafter: then take eight or ten pieces
of parchment, of seven inches by four, — put them into the parchment or
vellum, so folded, and sew up the ends: then cut the flap rounding, and
fold it down like a pocket-book : lastly, you may, if you please, bind
[along] the ends, and round the flap with red tape.

Into this case, — put lines coiled up, spare links, single hairs, hooka
ready whipped and looped.

And, having- several of these cases,— you may fill them with lines, Iffe.
proper for every kind of fishing ; always remembering to put, into each
of them, a gorger, or small piece of cane, of five inches long, and a quarter
of an inch wide, with a notch at each end ; ^ith this, when a fish ha«
gorged your hook, yoti may — by piUting it down his throat, till you feel
the hook ; and holding the line tight, while you press it down — easily
disengage it.

And ififlftia: should chance to break your top, or any other part of your
rod, — tak&the following directions for mending it: Cut the two broken enda
with a long slop*, «o that they may fit neatly together; then spread some

CHAP. XVII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 301

you must store yourself; and to that

purpose, I will go with you — either ^ ^^'"'' ^^arJ, that tbt

to Mr. Margrave;, who dwell samongst IfJ^f /"It^wl^

the booksellers in St. Paul s Church- inventory of an angUr,

yard ; or to Mr. John Stubs, near to

the Swan in Golden lane ; they be both honest men,

and will fit an angler with what tackling he lacks*.

Ven, Then, good master ! let it be at -,

for he is nearest to my dwelling. And, I pray, let's

wax, very thin, oh each slope ; and, with waxed thread or silk, according
as the size of the broken part requires, bind them very neatly together ;
To fasten off, — lay the fore-finger of your left hand over the binding, and
with your right, make four turns of the thread over it ; then pass the end
of your thread, between the untler-side of your finger and the rod, and
draw your finger away ; lastly, with the fore-finger, and thumb, of your
right hand, take hold of the first of the turns, and, gathering as much of it
as you can, bind-on till the three remaining turns are wound off, — and
then take hold of the end, which yo\i had before put tliiough, and then
draw close. See the work, Plate XII. Fig. 1, 2.

For ivhipping on a hook^ take the following directions : Place the hook
betwixt the fore-finger and thumb of your left hand, and, with your right,
give the waxed silk three or four turns round the shank of the hook:
then, lay the end of the hair on the inside of the shank, and, with your
right hand, whip down, as in Fig. 3. Plate XII. ; when you are withia
about four turns of the bent of the hook, — take the shank between the
fore-finger, and thumb, of your left hand, and place the end of the silk
close by it ; holding them both tight, and leaving the end to hang down ;
then draw the other part of the silk into a large loop ; and, with your
right hand turning backtvardsas in Fig. 4. PlateXII. continue the whipping
for four turns, and draw the end of the silk, (which has, all this while,
hung down under the root of your left thumb,) close, and twitch it off.

To tie a ivater-knoty — lay the end of one of your hairs, about five inche»
•r less, over th:'.t of the other ; and through the loop, (which you would
make, to tie thtm, in the common way,) pass the long, and the short, end
of the haire which will lie to the right of the loop, twice ; and, wetting
the knot with your tongue, draw it close ; and cut off the spare hair. See
Fig. 5. Plate XII. '

* In some former editions of this book, the author has, in this place,
mentioned CharUs Kiriy as a maker of excellent hooks : of whom take th«
following account : He was famous for the neatness, and form of his hooks;
when, being introduced to prince Rupert, whose name frequently occur*
in the history of king Charles the First's reign, the prince communicated
to him a method of tempering them, which has been continued in the fa-
mily to this time ; there being a lineal descendant of th^ above-named
Charles Kirby now [1760] living in Crowther's-well-allcy, near Alders-
gate-street, — whose hooks, for their shape and temper, exceed all others.
This story is the more likely to be true; as It is well known, that the
German nobility, in the last century, were much addicted to chemistry, —
and, that to this prince Rupert the world is indebted for the invention of
Kraping in mezzotinto. See a head of his scraping in Evelyn's Stulpiitra.

B02 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

meet there, the ninth of May next, about two of the
clock ; and I'll want nothing that a fisher should be
furnished with.

Pise, Well! and I'll not ftiil you, God willing,
at the time and place appointed.

Ven. I thank you, good master ! aod I will not fail
you. And, good master! tell me what Baits more,
you remember ; for it will not now be long ere we shall
be at Toltenham-high-cross, — and when we come thi-
ther, I will make you some reqnital of your pains, by
repeating as choice a Cop?/ of Verses as any we have
heard, since we met together ; and that is a proud
word, for we have heard very good ones.

Pise, Well, scholar ! and I shall be then right glad
to hear them. And I will, as we walk, tell you what-
soever comes in my mind, that I think may be worth
your hearing. You may make another choice
BAIT thus : take a handful or two of the best and big-
gest wheat you can get ; boil it in a little milk, like as
frumity is boiled, — boil it so till it be soft: and then
fry it, very leisurely, with honey, and a little beaten
saffron dissolved in milk : And you will find this a
choice bait, — and good, I think, for any fish, especi-
ally for Roach, Dace, Chub, or Grayling : I know
not but that it may be as good for a river Carp, and es-
pecially if the ground be a little baited with it.

And you may also note, that the Spawn of mostjish
is a very tempting bait, being a little hardened on a
warm tile, and cut into fit pieces*. Nay, mulberries,
and those black-berries which grow upon briars, be
good baits for Chubs or Carps : Avith these, many have
been taken in ponds, and in some rivers where such
trees have grown near the water, and the fruits cus-
tomarily dropt into it. And there be a hundred other
baits— more than can be well named — which, by con-
stant baiting the water, will become a tempting bait
for any fish in it.

You are also to know, That there be divers kinds of
Cadis, or Case-worms, that arc to be found, in this

♦ See the note in page 29S.

CHAP. XVIT. THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 303

nation, in several distinct conntics, and in several
little brooks that relate to bigi^er rivers;— as namely,
one cadis called a piper ; whose husk, or case, is a
piece of reed about an inch long, or longer, and as
big, about, as the compass of a two-pence. These
worms being kept three or four days in a woollen bag,
with sand at the bottom of it, and the bag wet once a
day, will in three or four days turn to be yellow ; and
these be a choice bait for the Chub or Chavcnder,—
or, indeed, for any great fish, for it is a large bait.

There is also a lesser cadis-worm, called a cock"
spur, being in fashion like the spur of a cock, sharp
at one end ; and the case, or house, in which this
dwells, is made of small husks, and gravel, and slime,
— most curiously, made of these, even so as to be won-
dered at, — but not to be made by man, no more than
a king-fisher's nest can, which is made of little fishes'
bones, and have such a geometrical interweaving, and
connection, as the like is not to be done by the art pf
man. This kind of cadis, is a choice bait for any float-
fish ; it is much less than the piper-cadis, and to be,
so, ordered; and these may be, so, preserved — ten,
fifteen, or twenty days, or it may be longer *.

There is also another cadis — called by some, a
straxO'Worm ; and by some a rirff-coat + x c - r
—whose house, or ca>e, is made, of p.sos.VoJ"
little pieces of bents, and rushes, and
straws, and water- weeds, and I know not what;
which arc so knit together with condensed slime, that
they stick about her husk or case, not unlike the bris-
tles of a hedge-hog. These three cadises are, common-

* To preserve cadis, grashoppers, caterpillars, oak worms, or natural
flies, — the following is an excellent method : Cut a round bough of fine
green-barked withy, about the thickness of one's arm ; and, taking off
the bark about a foot in length, turn both ends together, into the form of
an hoop, and fasten them with a pack-needle and thread ; then stop up
the bottom with a bung-cork : and with a red hot wire, bore the bark
full of holes: (see Plate XII. Fig. 6.) Into this, put
your baits; tie it over with a colewort leaf|; and \ The Editor

lay it in the grass every night. In this manner, ca- hai here trans'
dis may be kept, till they turn to flies. To grashop- poicd a line,
pers, you may put grass.

S04 THE COMPLETE ANGLER, PART I.

ly, taken in the beginning of summer ; and are good,
indeed, to take any kind of lish, with float or other-
wise. I might tell you of many more whicli, as these
do early, — so those have their time, also, of turning
to be flies, later in summer : but I might lose myself,
and tire you, by such a discourse: 1 shall tlicrcfore
but remember you, that To knoio these, and their se-
veral hinds, — and, to what flies exery particular cadis
turns; cmd, then, how to use thein, first, as thej/ he
cadis, and, after, as they he jlies : is an art ; and an
art that every one that professes to be an angler has not
leisure to search after, and if he had, is not capable of
learning*.

* " The several sorts oi phryganea^ or cadews — in their nympha, or mag-
•• got state — thus, house themselves: one sort, in straws, called from thence
*' straw-worms ; others, in two or more sticks laid parallel to one an-
*♦ other, creeping at the bottom of biooks; others, with a small bundle —
•* of pieces of rushes, duck- weed, sticks, \sfc. glued together, — wherewith
*' they float on the top, and can row themselves therein, about the waters,
"with the help of their feet: both these are called cad-bait. Divers
" sorts there are, which the reader may see a sunmiary of, from Mr.
•* Willoughby, in Rail Method. Insect, p. 12, together with a good,
*' though very britf, description of the papilionaceous fly that comes
•* from the cad-bait cadew. It is a notable architectonic faculty, which
** all the variety of these animals have, to gather such bodies as are fittest
^'^ for their purpose .f and then to glue them to^rethcr i some to bc heavier than
" water, that the animal may remain ai bottom^ where its food is ; (for
«• which purpo e, they use stouts, together with sticks, rushes, ^c..-)
*' and some to be lighter than water, to float on the top, — and, gather its
•' food from tnence. These little houses look coarse, and shew no great
•* artifice outwardly ; but are well tunnelled, and made, within, with a
»' hard tough paste, — iiito which, the hind part of the maggot is so fixed,
" that it can draw its cell after it any where, without danger of leaving
♦' it behind; as also thrust out its body, to reach what it wanteth ; or,
** witlidraw it into its cell to guard it against harms." Phys. Theol. 234.

Thus much of cadis, in general, as an illustration of what our author
has said on that subject. But to be more particular:

That which Walton calls the piper-cadis I have never seen; but a
very learned and ingenious friend of mine, who has, for fifty years past,
teen an angler, and a curious observer of aquatic productions, has fur-
cisiied me with an Account of that insect ; which I shall give the reader,
in nearly his own words:

*' The piper-cadis I take to be the largest of the tribe, and tliat it takes
** its name not from any sound, but figure. I never met with it but in
** rivers, running U])on beds of lime-stone or large pebbles; they are
** comn:on in Mortliern and Welch streams. 1 he cadeiv itself is about
'* an inch long, and, in some, above. The case is straight, and rough; the
»* otitward surface covered with gravel or sand : the fistula, or pipe, in
** which it is contained, seems to be a small stick, of which the pith was

CHAP. Xril. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 305

I will tell you, scholar ! several countries have se-
veral kinds of cadis's, that, indeed differ, as much as

*• quite decayed, before the insect, in its state immediately succeeding
" the egg, lodged itself. Advanced to an aurelia — which is generally in
" April, or the beginning of May — it leaves its case, and last covering,
" a sort of thin skin resembling a fish's bladder, (and this is likewise the
" method of the whole genus, as far as I could ever observe,) and imme-
" diately paddles upon the top of the water with its many legs. It
" seldom flies, though it has four wings : and of these wings it is to be
*' observed, that, in the infant-state of the insect, viz. for a week or
** longer, they are shorter than the body, but afterwards they grow to
** be full as long or longer. This is usually called, by sportsmen, the
*' stone-fly; in "Wales they name it the water-cricket, the size and co-
" lour being like that insect."

As to the cock-spur, Bowlker expressly says. In his Art of Angling, p. 70,
that it produces the May-fly, or yellow cadew ; which 1 have ever un-
derstood to be the green-drake.

That which Walton calls the straw-ivorm, or ruff'-coat — though, by the
way, he certainly errs in making these terms synonymous, as will hereafter
be made to appear — and which is described in Ray's Metbodus Insectorum,
p. 1 2. is, I take it, the most common of any, and is found in the river
Colne, near Uxbridge ; the New River, near London; the Wandle, which
runs through Carshalton, in Surrey ; and in most other rivers. Two of
this species of insects, drawn from nature, are given, Plate XIII. Fig. 4.
and 5 ; and Fig. 6. is the appearance of the cadis when pulled out of its
case. As to the straw-worm, I- am assured, by my friend above-men-
tioned, that it produces many and various flies ; namely, that which is
called, about London, the withy-fly,— ash-coloured duns, of several
shapes and dimensions, as also light and dark browns, all of them affording
great diversion in Northern streams.

It now remains, to speak of the ruff-coat ; which seems to answer so
nearly to the description which Walton has given of the cock-spur ; viz.
*♦ that the case, or house, in which it dwells, is made — of small husks,
" and gravel and slime — most curiously ;" that there is no accounting for
his making the term synonymous with that of the straw-worm, which it
does not in the least resemble : And, yet, that the ruff'-coat and the cock-
spur produce different flies, notwithstanding their seeming resemblance,
must be taken for granted, — unless we will reject Bowlker's authority ;
when he says the cock-spur produces the May-fly, or yellow cadew ;
which, I own, I see no reason to do.

But, that I may not mislead the reader, I must inform him, That
1 take the ruff'-coat to be a species of cadis inclosed in a husk about an
inch long, surrounded by bits of stone, flints, bits of tile, \sfc. — very near
equal, in their sizes ; and most curiously compacted together, like
mosaic.

In the month of May, 1759, I took one of the insects last above
described ; which had been found in the river Wandle, in Surrey ; and
put it into a small box, with sand at the bottom ; and wetted it five or six
times a day, for five days ; at the end whereof, to my great amazement,
it produced a lovely large fly — nearly of the shape of, but less than a com-
mon white butterfly — with two pair of cloak wings, and of a light cin-
namon colour i the figure of the busk, and also of the fly, in two positions,

S

306 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. FART I.

dogs do ; that is to say, as much as a very cur and
greyhound do. These be, usually, bred in the very
little rills, or ditclies, that run into bigger rivers ; and,
I think, a more proper bait for those very rivers than
any other. I know not how, or of what, this cadis re-
ceives life, — or what coloured fly it turns to. But,
doubtless, they are the death of many Trouts : And
this is one killing way :

Take one — or more, if need be — of these large 7/ellow
cadis : pull off his head, and, witli it, pull out his
black gut ; put the body, as little bruised as is possible,
on a very little hook, armed-on with a red hair, which
will shew like the cadis-head, — and a very little thin
lead, so put upon the shank of the hook that it may
sink presently. Throw this bait, thus ordered — which
will look ver}^ yellow — into any great still hole where
a Trout is ; and he will presently venture his life for it,
it is not to be doubted, if you be not espied ; and [if]
that thebait first touch the water before the line. And
this will do, best in the deepest water.

is given in Pkte XIII. Fig. 1, 2, 3. This fly, upon Inquiry, I find iff
called, in the North, the large light brown; in Irehuid, and some other
places^ it has the name of the flame-coloured brown. And
* Appendix, the method of making it is given in the Additional list of
No. 2. flies, under September * : where, from its smell, the reader

will find it called the" large foetid Hght brown.

This seems to be the Musca stercoraria of Swammerdam, described iff
his Hist. Insect, Gen. p. 139. Vide Morton's Nat. Hist, of Northampton'
tbire, p.41^.

And there are many other kinds of these wonderful creatures ; as may
Be seen in Moas. de ReaunVlir's Memoires pour servir a I'Histoire des Itr-
sectesy Tome III. ; froni which,- for the reader's greater satisfaction, the fi-
gures 7, 8, 9, 10,- in Plate XIII. are accurately delineated. [And see
Appendix, No. I.]

It is greatly to be wished, that none iiad tindertaken to write on thiff
subject, of aquatic insects^ but men conversant in the study of natural
history ; as Ray, Derham, Swammerdam, Reaumur, and others were \
&VQ consequence of which would have been, that these creatures would
have had names assigned them, which would at once have charac-
terized them, and kept the sevieral species distinct from each other;
whereas, the several illiberal terms of cadis, cadew, cod-bait, cad-bait,
case-worm, and cod-worm — each of which, in some places, means two
or three ; and, in others, all the different sorts of those creatures yet
known — has been productive of inextricable confusion, and will, I fear,
oblige us to consider their history as among the detiderata of this curiou*
art^

fcHAP. XVII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. S07

Next, let me tell you, I have been much pleased , To
walk quietly by a brook with a little stick in my hand
with which I might easily take these ; and consider the
curiosity of their composure : And if you shall ever
like to do so, then note, That your stick must be a lit-
tle hasel, or willow ; cleft, or have a nick at one end
of it, — ^l)y which means, you may, with ease, take
many of them in that nick out of the water, before yoil
have any occasion to use them. These, my honest
scholar ! are some observations — ^told to you as they,
now, come suddenly into my memory — of which you
may make some use. But for the practical part : it is
that that makes an angler : it is diligence, and observa-
tion, and practice, and an ambition to be the best in
the art, that must do it *. I will tell you, scholar I

* The author has now done describing the several kinds ofjlsh, except-
ing the few little ones that follow, ivith the methods of taking tbem ; but
has said little or nothing of FLOAT-riSHiNc ; it may, therefore, not be
amiss, here to lay down some rules about it.

Let the rod be light and stiff, and withal so smirt in the spring, as to
Strike at the tip of the whale-bone: from fourteen to fifteen feet is a good
length.

In places where you sometimes meet with Barbel, as at Shepperton and
Hampton, in Middlesex, — the fittest line is one of six or seven hairs, at
top, and, so, diminishing for two yards; let the rest be strong Indian
grass, to within about half a yard of the hook, — which may be whipped
to a fine grass or silk-worm gut. And this line will kill a fish of six
pounds weight.

But, for mere Roach and Date-fishing, actcustom yourself to a single-
hair Ime; with which, an artist may kill a fish of a pound and a half
weight.

For your float : In slow streams, a neat round goose quill Is proper :
but for de6p or rapid rivers, or in an eddy, the cork, shaped like a pear,
is indisputably the best ; which should not, in general, exceed the size of
a nutmeg ; let not the quill, which you put through it, be more than half
an inch above, and below, the cork; — and this float, though some prefer a
swan's quill, has great advantage over a bare quill ; for the quill being
defended from the water by the cork, does not soften, and the cork enables
you to lead your line so heavily, as that the hook sinks almost as soon as
you put [it] into the water ; whereas, when you lead but lightly, it does
hot go to the bottom till it is near the end of your swim. See the form of
the float, Plate XI. Fig. 16. And in leading your lines, be careful to ba-
lance them so nicely, that a very small touch will sink them ; some use
for this purpose lead shaped like a barley-corn ; but there is nothing bet-
ter to lead with than shot, which you must have, ready cleft, always with
you; remembering, that when you fish fine, it is better to have on your
line a great number of small, than a few large, shot.

8 ^

SOS THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART T.

I once heard one say, ^' I envy not him that eats better
^^ meat then I do ; nor him that is richer, or that wears
'' better clothes then I do ; I envy nobody but him,
*^ and him only, that catches more fish than I do."
And such a man is like to prove an angler ; and this
noble emulation I wish to you, and all young anglers.

Whip the end of the quill, round the plug, with fine silk, well waxed;
this will keep the water out of your float, and preserve it greatly.

In fishing with a float, — your line must be about a foot shorter than
your rod ; for if it is longer, you cannot so well command your hook
when you come to disengage your fish.

Pearch and Chub are caught with a float, and also Gudgeons; and,
sometimes, Barbel and Grayling.

For Carp and Tench, which are seldom caught but in ponds, — use a
very small goose, or a duck, quill float ; and, for ground bait, throw in,
every now and then, a bit of chewed bread.

For Barbel, — the place should be baited the night before you fish, with
graves, which are the sediment of melted tallow, and may be had at the
tallow-chandler's. Use the same ground-bait, while you are fishing, as
for Roach and Dace.

In fishing, with a float, for Chub, — in warm weather, fish at mid-
Water; in cool, lower; and in cold, at the ground.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 309

CHAPTER XVIII.

Of the Minnow, or Penk; of the Loach ; and of the
Bull-Head, or MillerVThumb. \and of the
SxicKLEiiAG. How to bait XL'ith them,j

PiSCATOR.

THERE be also three, or four, other little fish that
I had almost forgot ; that are, all, without scales, —
and may, for excellency of meat, be compared to any
fish of greatest value and largest size. They be,
usually, full of eggs or spawn, all the months of
summer : for they breed, often ; as it is observed
mice, and many of the smaller four-footed creatures
of the earth do, — and as those, so these, come quickly
to their full growth and perfection. And it is needful
that they breed, both often and numerously; for they
be — besides other accidents of ruin — both a prey, and
baits, for other fish. And, first, I shall tell you of the
Minnow or Penk.

The Minnow hath, when he is in perfect season —
and not sick, which is only presently after spawning—*
a kind of dappled or waved colour like to a panther,
on his sides, inclining to a greenish and sky-colour ;
his belly being milk white ; and his back, almost black
or blackish. He is a sharp biter at a small worm;
and in hot weather makes excellent sport for young
anglers, or boys, or women that love that recreation.
And in the spring, they make of them excellent Min-
now-tansies ; for being washed well in salt, — and tJieir
heads and tails cut oiF, and their guts taken out,
and not washed after, — they prove excellent for that
use, that is, heiug fried with yolks of eggs; the
flowers of cozvslipSy and of prirnroses ; and a little
tansy : thus used, they make a dainty dish of meat.

310 THE COMPLETE ANOLER. FART I.

The Loach is, as I told you, a most dainty fish ;
he breeds, and feeds, in little and clear swift brooks or
rills, and lives there upon the gravel, and in the
sharpest streams : he grows not to be above a finger
long, and no thicker than is suitable to that length . This

IL©A€M.

is not unlike the shape of the Eel : he has a beard
or wattles like a Barbel. He has two fins at his sides,
four at his belly, and one at his tail; he is dappled
with many black or brown spots ; his mouth is, bar-
bel-like, under his nose. This fish is, usually, full of
eggs or spawn ; and is by Gesner, and other learned
physicians, commended for great nourishment, and,
to be very grateful both to the palate and stomach
of sick persons. He is to be fished for, with a very
small worm— at the bottom; for he very seldom, or
never, rises above the gravel, on which I told you he
usually gets his living.

The Miller's-thumb, or Bull-head, is a fish of
no pleasing shape. He is, by Gesner compared to
the Sea-toad-fish, for his similitude and shape. It
has a head big and flat, mucli greater than suitable
to his body ; a mouth very wide, and usually gaping ;
he is without teeth, but his lips are very rough, much
like to a file. He hath two fins near to his gills,
which be roundish or crested; two fiins^ also^ under

CHAP. XVIII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 3tl

the belly; two, on the back ; one, below the vent : and
the fin of his tail, is round. Nature hath painted the
body of this fish with whitish, blackish, brownish spots.
They be, usually, full of eggs or spawn, all thesuramer,
I mean the frmales; and those eggs swell their vents
almost into the form of a dug. They begin to spawn
about April; and, as I told you, spawn several months
in the summer. And * in the winter, — the Minnow,
and Loach, and Bull-head dwell — in the mud, and as
the Eel doth ; or, we know not where, no more than
we know where the cuckow and swallow, and other
half-year birds, which first appear to us in April,
spend their six cold, winter, melancholy months.
This

BUILI.-HEAID)

* since Walton wrote, — there has been brought into England^ from
Germany, a species of small fith, resembling Carp in shape and colour,
called Crucians : with which, many ponds are now plentifully stocked.

There has also been lately brought hither from China, those beautiful
creatures Gold and Silver Fish ; the first are of an orange-colour, with
very shining scales, and finely variegated with black and dark brown;
the Silver Fish are of the colour of Silver tissue, with scarlet fins, with
which colour they are curiously marked in several parts of the body.

These fish are usually kept in ponds, basins, and small reservoirs of
water ; to which they are a delightful ornament. And it is now a very
common practice to keep them in a large glass vessel like a punch bowl.

S12 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. ' PAllT I,

does usually dwell, and hide himself, in holes, or amongst
stones in clear water ; and in very hot days, will lie a
lons^ time very still, and sun himself, and will be easy
to be seen upon any flat stone, or any gravel ; at which
time, he will suffer an angler to put a hook, baited
with a small worm, very near untti his very mouth :
and he never refuses to bite, nor indeed to be caught
with the worst of ariglers. Matthiolus * commends him
much more, for his taste and nourishment, than for his
shnpe or beauty.

There is also a little fish called a Stick lebag :
a fish without scales, but hath his body fenced with
several prickles. I know not where he dwells in
"winter ; nor what he is good for in summer, but
only to make sport for boys and women-anglers,
and to feed other fish that be fish of prey : as Trouts,
in particular, — who will bite at him, as at a Penk ;
and better, if your hook be rightly baited with him, —
for he may be so baited as, his tail turning like the
sail of a windmill, will make him turn more quick
than any Penk or Minnow can. For note, that the
nimble turning of that, or the Minnow, is the per-
fection of Minnow-fishing. To which end, — if you
put your hook into his mouth, and out at his tail;
and, then — having first tied him, with white thread,
a little above his tail; and placed him after such a
manner on your hook as he is like to turn — then,
sew up his mouth to your line : And he is like to
turn quick, and tempt any Trout: but if he do
not turn quick, — then turn his tail a little, more
or less, towards the inner part, or towards the side
of the hook ; or put the Minnow, or Sticklebag, a
little more crooked or more strait on your hook;
until it will turn both true and fast : And then
doubt not but to tempt any great Trout that lies

with fine gravel strewed at the bottom : frequently changing the water,
and feeding them with bread and gentles. Those who can take more
pleasure in angling for, than in beholding them — which, I confess I could
never do — may catch them with gentles; but though costly, they are but
coarse, food.

* Fetrus Andreas Matthiolus^ of Sienna, an eminent physician of the
MXteenth century, famous for his Commentaries on some of the writings of
Pioscorides.

CHAP. XVIII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 313

in a swift stream *. And the Loach that I told you
of, will do the like : no bait is more tempting, pro-
vided the Loach be not too big.

And now, scholar ! with the help of this fine morning,
and your patient attention, I have said all that my
present memory will afford me, concerning most of
the several fish that are usually fished for in fresh
waters.

Ven, But, master ! you have by your former ci-
vility made me hope, that you will make good
your promise, and say something of the several
rivers that be of most note in this nation ; and also
of fish-ponds, and the ordering of them : and do
it, I pray, good master ! for I love any discourse
of rivers, and fish and fishing ; the time spent in
such discourse passes away very pleasantly.

* The Minnow, if used In this manner, is so tempting a bait, that few
fish are able to resist it. The present Earl of •***♦»»* told me, that, in
the month of June last, at Kimpton Hoo, near Wellwyn, in Hertfordshire,
he caught (with a Minnow) a Rucf, a fish described in page 291, which —
inasmuch as the Rud, is not reckoned, nor does the situation of his teeth,
which are in bis throat, bespeak him to be a fish of prey — is a fact more
extraordinary than that related, by Sir George Hastings, in Chap. IV. of a
Fordidge Trout, (of which kind of fish none had ever been known to be
taken with an angle,) which he caught, and supposed it bit for wantonr

83

314 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART T.

CHAPTER XIX.

Of several Rivers, and some Observations of Fish,

PiSCATOR.

WELL, scholar! since the ways and weather dobolh
favour us, and that we yet see not Tottenham cross, — you
shall see my willingness (o satisfy your desire.. And,
firsf, for the rivers of this nation : there be — as you
may note out of Doctor Heylin's Geography *, and
others— in number dfib ; but those of chiefest note, he
yeckons and describes as followeth :

The chief is Thame.sis ; compounded of two rivers,
Thame and Isis,— whert'of the former, rising some-
what bejqnd Thame in Buckinghamshire, and the lat-
ter near Cirencester in Gloucestershire, meet together
about Dorchester in Oxfordshire; the issue of which
happy conjunction is the Thamesis^ or Thames + ;

♦ It should be Dr. Heylin's Cosmograpby^ a book well known. Great
confusion arise? from the want of a clear idea of the many words in our
language that have this termination ; but it seems they are well under-
stood by some. About forty years ago, Mr. Jefferys, a printseller at the
corner of St. Martin's-lane, afid a great engraver of maps, got himself
to be enrolled in the list of the servants of Frederick, prince of Wales, by
the designation of Geographer to his Royal Highness. Rocque, who
published the great map of London — at that time a young man, and de-
sirous of an honourable adjunct to his name — applied, shprtly after, to
the servants of the Prince, and with the tender of a proper gratuity, so-
licited the same appointment : but was given to understand by them, that
he was too late, for that the office of Geographer was disposed of; but
they (probably hearing the chink of his money) comforted him by say-
ing, that they could set him down, in terms of their own invention,
either Topographer, or Cborograpbery to his Royal Highness the Prince.
The charm of these sonorous appellations was too strong to be resisted.
Mr. Rocque, thereforf, after due deliberation upon a matter so import-
ant, made choice of the former ; and, in addition to his name, caused it
to be painted on the front of his shop in the Strand.

f 1 hough the current opinion is, that the Thames had its name from
the conjunction of Thame and /j/j,— it plainly appears, that the Ish was
always called Thames^ or Tems^ before it came near the Tame. Gibson's
Camden, Ed't. 175.'J. p. 99.

And as to the head of the Thame ; although it is generally supposed to
be in Oxfordshire, Camden (whom we may suppose Walton followed)
Brit. 315. says it is in Buckinghamshire.

But what shall we say to the following account, which Lambarde has

€HAP. XIX. THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 315

hence, it flieth betwixt Berks, Buckinghamshire, Mid-
diesex, Surrey, Kent, and Essex, — and, so, weddeth
himself to the Kentish Med way, in the very jaws of the
ocean. This glorious river feeleth the violence and
benefit of the sea more than any river in Europe; ebb-
ing and flowing, twice a day, more than sixty miles:
about whose banks are so many fair towns and princely
palaces, that a German * poet, thus, truly spake :
Tot Campos f 8^c.

We saw so many woods and princely bowers;
Sweet fields, brave palaces, and stately towers {
So many gardens drest with curious care $
That Thames with royal Tiber may compare.

2. The second river of note is Sabrina, or Severn :
it hath its beginning in Plinliramon-hill, in Mont-
adopted ? " Tame (salth Leland) springeth out of the hills of Hertford-
** shire, al a place called Bulbourne, a few miles from Penlye, (the house
" of a family of gentlemen called Verneys) it runneth from thence to
«< Aylesbury, in Buckinghamshire, and to Tame, (a market town in Ox-
^« fordshire, whereunto it giveth the name,) then passing under Whatley-
*♦ bridge, it cometh to Dorchester, and hard by joineth with Isis, or
" Ouse, and from that place joineth with it in name also." Dictionarium
Topograpb'icum voce THAME.

Unfortunately, Leland's manuscript, has lost twenty-five leaves, in
that part of it where one might expect to find this passage. But the fol-
lowing efxtract, from an author of great authority, and who had a seat
in the county of Hertford, will determine the question.

♦' The Thame (the most famous river of England) issues from three
** heads, in the parish of Tring; the first rises in an orchard, near the
«« parsonage-house; the second in a place called Dundell; and the other
*♦ proceeds from a spring, named Bulbourne, — which last stream joins the
« other waters, at a place called New-mill : whence all, gliding together
»' in one current through Puttenham in this county, pass by Aylesbury (a
" fair market-town in Buckinghamshire) to Etherop ; (an ancient plea-
«« sant seat of that noble family of the Dormers, earls of Caernarvon ;)
*« and, crossing that county by Netley-abbey, to Thame, (a market-town
** in Oxfordshire, which borrows its name from this river,) hasteneth
** away by Whately-bridge to Dorchester, (an ancient episcopal seat,)
** and thence congratulates the Jsis ; but both emulating each other for
" the name, and neither yielding, they are complicated by that of T6a-
5* mists" Sir Henry Chauncy's Historical Antiquities of Hertfordshire^ p. 2.
See also the later Maps, of Hertfordshire and Buckinghamshire.

* Who this German poet was I cannot find ; but the verses, in the
priginal Latin, are in Heylin's Cosmography, page 240, and are as follow ;

Tot campoSf sylvas, tot regia tecta^ tot hortos^
Artifci excultos dextra, tot vidimus arces ;
Ut nurif Ausonio, Thamisis, turn Tibride cerfet^
S 4

310 THE pOMPLETE ANGLER, PART !•

gomerysliirc ; and his end, seven miles from Bristol :
Avasbing, in the mean space, the walls of Slirewsbury,
Worcester, and Gloucester, and divers other places
and palaces of note.

3. Irent, so called from thirf j kind of fishes that
are found in it, or for that it receiveth thirty lessei
rivers ; "svho, having his fountain in Staffordshire, and
gliding through the counties of Nottingham, Lincoln,
Leicester, and York, augmenteth the turbulent cur-
rent of Ilumber, the most violent stream of all the isle.
This H umber is not, to say truth, a distinct river
having a spring-head of his own, but it is rather the
mouth, or cesiudriuni of divers rivers here confluent
and meeting together, namely, your Derwent, and es-
pecially of Ouse and Trent ; and (as the Danow hav-
ing received into its channel the river Dravus, Savus,
Tibiscus, and divers others) changeth his name into
this of Humberabus^ as the old geographers call it.

4. Medwayy a Kentish river; famous for harbour-
ing the royal navy.

5. Tweed, the north-east bound of England ; on
whose northern banks, is seated the strong and impregr
liable town of Berwick.

6. Tijne, famous for Newcastle, and her inexhaust-
ible coal-pits*. These, and the rest of principal note,
are thus comprehended in one of Mr. Drayton's Sonnets.

Our floods' queen, Thames, for ships and swans is crown'd ;

And stately Severn for her shore is praisM ;
The crystal Trent ^ for fords and fish renown 'd ;

And Avon^s fame to Albion's cliffs is ral8''d ;

* It would have been beside the author's purpose, and, indeed, incon-
sistent with the brevity of his work, to have given such a description
and history of the rivers of this kingdom as some readers would wish for.
Such, however, may find, in Selden's Notes on the Polyolbion^ a great va-
riety of curious and useful learning on the subject. And it were to be
wish'd that some person — skilled like Leland, Camden, Lambarde, or
that excellent person above-mentioned, in the antiquities of this country,
if any such there are — would undertake the delightful task, of surveying
them, and giving their history.

In the mean while we would recommend to our angler the use of a
map of the county where he fishes; by means whereof, he may see the
rivers contained in it, with their courses ; which is, perhaps as much as
a mere angler need know about the matter.

CHAP. XIX. THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 317

Carlegion Chester vaunts her holy Dee ;

York many wonders of her Ouse can tcU ;
The Peak, her DovCj whose banks so fertile be, —

And Kent will say her Medivaj/ doth excel :
Cotswold commends her his to the Tajne ;

Our Northern borders boast of Tweed's fair flood ;
Our Western parts extol the JViUy''s fame,

And the old X^fl brag» of the Danish blood*.

* " LEE /?«. LyTan> Saxon. Luy. Mar. [forsan Marcelllnus] Lea,

Polydoro. " The name of the water which (runnyn betwene Ware and
" London) devydethe, for a great part of the way, Essex and Hertford-
" shy re. It begynnethe near a place called Whitchurche ; and, from
*•' thence passinge by Hertford, Ware, and Waltham, openethe into the
" Thamise at Ham in Essex : wheare the place is, at this day, called Lee
" Mouth:. It hathe, of longe tyme, borne vessells from London, 20
" miles towarde the head; for, in tyme of Kinge Alfrede, the Danes en-
*f tered Leymouthe, and fortified, at a place adjoininge to this ryver, 20
" myles from London : Where, by fortune, king Alfrede passinge by,
" espied that the channell of the ryver might be in suche sorte weakened,
" that they should want water to returne withe their shippes : he caused
" therefore the water to be abated by two greate trenches, and settinge
" the Londoners upon theim, he made them batteil ; wherein they lost
*• four of their capitaines, and a greate nomber of their common soul-
" diers, — the rest flyinge into the castle which they had builte. Not longe
" after they weare so pressed, that they forsoke all, and lefte their
*' shippes as a pray to the Londoners ; which breakinge some, and burn-
*' inge other, conveyed the reast to London. This castle, for the distance^
*? might seme Hertforde ; but it was some other, upon that banke, which
*' had no longe continuance ; for Edward the elder, and son of this Alfrede,*
**.builded Hertforde not longe after." Vide Lambarde's Dktionarium To-
pographicuTHj voce LEE. Drayton's Polyolbioity Song the twelfth, and
the nrst note thereon.

Other authors, who confirm this fact, also add. That, for the purpose
aforesaid, he opened the mouth of the river. Fide Sir William Dugdale's
History of the embanking and draining the fensy and Sir John Spelman't
Life of MMve^ the Great, published by Hearne, in 8vo. 1709; the perusal
of which last named author will leave the reader in very little doubt, but
that these trenches are the very same that now branch off from the river
between Temple-Mills and Old-Ford, and, crossing the Stratford road,
enter the Thames, together with the principal stream, a little below
Blackwall.

It is hardly supposable, that every reader of this work Is acquainted
with the character of that excellent prince, whose wisdom and policy are
above celebrated. Let us, therefore, stop a moment, to contemplate
that venerable and amiable assemblage of regal and private virtues,
which has hitherto distinguished his name ; — And when we are told, That
hfi was the foimder of that excellent constitution, which even foreigners
confe€5 to be the best formed in the world for the purpose* of govern-

318 THE COMPLETE ANGLEB. PART 1^

These observations are out of learned Dr. Heylin,
and my old deceased friend, Michael Drayton ; and
because you say, you love such discourses, as tfiese—
of rivers, and fish and fishing — I love you the better,
and love the more to impart them to you. Never-
theless, scholar ! if I should begin but to name }he se-
yeral sorts of strange fish that are usually taken in
many of those rivers that nm into the sea, I might
beget wonder in you, or unbelief, or both : and yet I
irill venture to tell you a real truth, concerning one
lately dissected by Dr. Wharton, a man of great
learning and experience, and of equal freedom to com^
municate it ; one that loves me and my art ; one to
whom I have been beholden for many of the choicest
observations that I have imparted to you*. This
good man, that dares do any thing rather than tell an
untruth, did, I say, tell me, he lately dissected one
strange fish, and he thus described it to me :

ment; that he established, if not invented, the method o{ trial by juries ;
that he built many cities and churches; restored, if not founded, the uni-?
versity of Oxford^ and re-edified almost every monastery in his dominions; tha^
he fought no less than fifty-six battles^ including sea-fights; that he was
pious y roise^ chaste^ temperate, brave, learned, munificent, and merciful ; and
that he delivered this country from the insupportable tyranny of the Danes ; —
who can reflect on his memory without gratitude and admiration !

Asserius Menevensis, his historian, tells us, that, " for dividing his
*' time, and keeping an account of it, — he caused wax-candles, to the
«* number of six, to be made, each of them twelve inches long, on
" which he caused the inches to be piarked ; and having found that one
« of them burnt just four hours, he committed them to the care of the
*' keepers of his chapel, who, from time to time, gave him notice how
« the hours went. But; as in windy weather the candles were wasted
«« by the impression of the air on the flame, he, to remedy this inconve-
« nience, invented lanthorns, there then being no glass in his dominions."

The same author has given us the following pleasant story of him;
which concludes this note.

" Seeing his subjects fly the enemy, in the midst of his country, he
«* took the disguise of a common soldier, and committed himself to one
" who had the keeping of the king's cows : whose wife having, one
•* day, set a cake of bread to bake before the fire, where the king sat
" trimming his bow and arrows, the cake burnt, which the king heeded
" not, till the woman, enraged at his inattention, with all the fiiry of a
" good housewife, called him an idle lubber, and gave him to understand,
« that if he expected to eat, he must ivork" Fide Spelman's Life of Mlfrei
aforesaid.

* See an account of him ante, pa. 99, n.

CHAP. XIX. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 319

^' The fish was almast a yard broad, and twice
*' that length ; his mouth, wide enough to receive, or
" take info it, the head of a man ; his stomach, seven
** or eiglit inches broad. He is of a slow motion ;
^' and usually lies, or lurks, close in the mud ; and
^^ has a moveable string on his head, about a span or
■' near unto a quarter of a/yard long, — by the moving
*' of which, which is his natural bait, when he lies
'' close and unseen in the mud, he draws other smaller
'^ fish so close to him, that he can suck them into his
" mouth, and so devours and digests them."

And scholar! do not Avonder at this;, for besides
the credit of the relator, yon are to note, Many of
these, and fishes which are of the like, and more
unusual shapes, are very often taken on the mouths of
our sea-rivers, and on the sea-shore. And this will be
no wonder to any that have travelled Egypt ; where,
'tis known, the famous river Nihis does not only breed
fishes that yet want names, but — by the overflowing of
that river, and the help of the sun's heat on the fat
slime which that river leaves on the banks, when it
falls back into its natural channel— -such strange fish
and beasts are also bred, that no man can give a name
to ; as Grotius in his Sop ham, and others, have ob«
served.

But whither am I strayed in this discourse ! I will
end it by telling you. That at the mouth of some of
these rivers of ours. Herrings are so plentiful, as
namely, near to Yarmouth in Norfolk ; and in the
west-country, Pilchards so very plentiful ; as you will
wonder to read, what our learned Camden relates of
them, in his Britannia^ p. 178, 186.

Well, scholar ! I will stop here, and tell you, what
by reading and conference 1 have observed concerning
fish-ponds.

S20 THE COMPLETE ANGLER, PART T.

CHAPTER XX.

- Of Fisn-PoND?, and how to order them,

DOCTOR Lebault, the learned Frenclivr.an, in liis
larg^e discourse o^ Maison Rusiiq?^e*^ ^ives this direc-
tion for making of fisli-ponds. I shall refer you to
liira, fo read it at large : but, I think, I shall contract
it and yd make it as useful.

He adviseth, That, Avhen you have drained the
gruuud, and made the earth firm where tlie head of the
pond must be ; that you must, then, in that place,
drive in two or (liree rows of oak or elm piles, which
should be scorched in the fire, or half-burnt, before
they be driven into the earth ; for being th\is used, it
preserves them much longer from rotting : And having
done so, lay faggols or bavins of smvaller wood betwixt
them: and, then, earth betwixt and above them : And,
then, having first very well rammed them and the earth,
use another pile in like manner as the first were : and
note, that the second pile is to be, of or about the
height that you intend to make your sluice or flood-
g*atc, or the vent that you intend shall convey the oyer-^
ilowings of your pond in any flood that shall endanger
the breaking of the pond-dam.

Then he advises, That you plant willows or owlers
about it, or both. And, then, cast in bavins— in son>e
places not far from the side, and in the most sandy
places — for fish both to spawn upon ; and to defend
lehm and the young fry from the many fish, and'alsq
from vermin that lie at watch to destroy them, especially

* This book, translated into English by Richard Surflet, and corrected
by Gervase Markham, is extant, under the title of the Countrey Farn^»
London, 1616, folio.

CHAP. XX. THE COMPLETE ANQLEIl. S2l

the spawn of the Carp and Tench, when 'tis left to the
mercy of ducks or vermin.

lie and Dubravius, and all others, advise. That you
make choice of such a place for your pond, that it may
be refreshed with a little rill, or with rain-water, run-
ning or fallini^ into it. By which, fish are more inclined
botli to breed ; and are also refreshed and fed the bet-
ter ; and do prove to be of a much sweeter and more
pleasant taste.

To which end it is observed. That such pools as be
large, and have most gravel and shallows where fish
may sport themselves, do afford fish of th e purest taste.
And note, that in al' pools it is best for fish to have
some retiring place ; as namely, hollow banks, or
shelves, or roots of trees ; to keep them from danger, —
and, when they think fit, from the extreme lieat of the
summer, — as also, from the extremity ofcold in winter.
And note, That if many trees be growing about your
pond, the leaves thereof falling into tbe.water, make it
nauseous to the fish ; and the fish to be so to the eater
of it.

'Tis noted. That the Tench and Eel love mud.
And the Carp loves gravelly ground ; and, in the hot
months, to feed on grass. You are to cleanse your
pond, if you intend either profit or pleasure, once
every three or four years, especially some ponds : and
then let it lie dry, six, or twelve months, — both to kill
the water-weeds, as water lilies, candocks, reate and
bulrushes, that breed there ; and also that as these die
for want of water, so grass may grow in the pond's bot-
tom, which Carps will eat greedily in all the hot months
if the pond be clean. The letting your pond dry, and
sowing oats in the bottom, — is also good, for the
fish feed the faster. And being sometimes let dry, — you
may observe what kind offish either increasesor thrives
best in that water ; for they differ much, both in their
breeding and feeding.

Lebault also advices. That if your ponds be not very
large and roomy, that you, often, feed yoifr fish, by
throwing into them chippings of bread, curds, grains,

392 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART. I,

or the entrails of chickens, or of any fowl or beast that
jou kill to feed yourselves ; for these afford fish a great
relief. He says, that frogs and ducks do much harm,
and devour both the spawn and the youtig fry, of all
fish, especially of the Carp. And I have, besides expe-
rience, many testimonies of it. Bnt Lebault allows
water-frogstobegood meat^ especially in some month sy
if they be fat : but you are to note, that he is a French-*
man ; and we English will hardly believe him, though
tve know frogs are usually eaten in his country : how-
ever, he advises io destroy them, and king-lishers, out
of your pondsrf And he advises, not to suffer much
shooting at wild fowl ; for that, he says, affriglitens,»
and harms and destroys the fish.

Note, that Carps and Tench thrive and breed best
when no other fish is put with them into the same
pond ; for all other fish devour their spawn, or at least
the greatest part of it. And note, that clods of grass
thrown into any pond, feed any Carps in summer ; and
that garden-earth and parsley thrown into a pond,
recovers and refreshes the sick fish. And note, that
when you store your pond, you are to put into it two
or three melters for one spawner, if you put them
into a breeding-pond ; but if into a nurse-pond, or
feeding-pond, in which they will not breed, then no
care is to be taken, whether there be most male or fe-
male Carps.

It is observed, that the best ponds to breed Carps s
are those that be stoney or sandy ; and are warm, and
free from wind ; and that are not deep, but have wil-
low-trees and grass on their sides, over which the
water does sometimes flow : And note, that Carps do
more usually breed in marle-pits, or pits that have
clean clay bottoms, — or, in new ponds, — or ponds that
lie dry, a winter season, — ^than in old ponds that be
full of mud and weeds *.

• It is observable, that the author has said very little of pond-fishing ;
■which is, in truth, a dull recreation ; and to which I have heard it ob-
jected, that fish in ponds are already caught. Nevertheless I fuid that, va

tllAF* XX, THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 3^3

Well, scholar ! I have told you the substance of all
that either observation or discourse, or a diligent sur-

the canal at St. James's Park— which, though a large one, is yet a
pond— it was, in the reign of Charles II. the practice of ladies to angle.

«* Beneath, — a shole of silver fishes glides,

** And plays about the gilded barges sides ;

«* The ladies, angling in the chrystal lake,

" Feast on the waters with the prey they take ;

** At once victorious with their lines and eyes,

*' They make the fishes and the men their prize."

Waller. Poem on St. Jamei's Pari,
lately improved by his Majesty.

As the method of ordering fish-ponds is now very well known, and
there are few books of gardening but what give so^ie directions about it,
—it is hoped, the reader will think the following quotation from Bowlker
sufficient, by way of annotation on this chapter.

" When you intend to stock a pool with Carp or Tench, — make a
** close etbering hedge, across the head of the pool, about a yard distance
** of the dam, and about three feet above the water ; which is the
" best refuge for them I know of, and the only method to preserve
*< pool-fish, — because, if any one attempts to rob the pool, muddied
«* the water, or disturbs it with nets, most of the fish, if not ail, im-
*♦ mediately fly between the hedge and the dam, to preserve them-
'« selves ; and in all pools, where thei'e are such shelters and shades, the
" fish delight to swim backwards and forwards, through and round the
« same, rubbing and sporting themselves therewith. This hedge crught
«« to be made, chiefly, of oris, and not too close; the boughs long and
*' straggling, towards the dam ; by which means you may feed and fatten
«* them as you please. The best baits for drawing them together, at
*« first are : maggots, or young wasps ; — the next are : bullock's brain's
«< and lob-worms, chopped together, and thrown into the pools in large
" quantities, about two hours before sun-set, summer and winter. By thuf
" using these ground-baits, once a day, for a fortnight together, — the
«• fish will come as constantly and naturally to the place, as cattle to
«* their fodder ; and to satisfy your curiosity, and to convince you herein,—
« after you have baited the pool for some time, as directed, take about
" the quantity of a two-penny loaf of wheaten bread, cut it into slices, and
<' wet it ; then throw it into the pool where you had baited, and the
" Carp will feed upon it : after you have used the wet bread three or
« four mornings, — then throw some dry bread in, which will lie on the
i« top of the water; and if you watch, out of sight of the fish, you
«* will presently see them swim to it, and suck it in. I look upon
*« wheaten bread to be the best food for them, though barley or oaten
" bread is very good. If there be Tench and Pearch in the same pond,—
<* they will feed upon the four former baits, and not touch the bread. In-
" deed there is no pool-fish so shy and nice as a Carp. When the
*■» water is disturbed. Carp will fly to the safest shelter they can ; which
*• I one day observed, when assisting a gentleman to fish his pool ; for
" another person disturbed the water, by throwing the casting-net^

32^ THE COMPLETE ANdtER, PART I.

vey of Dubravius and Lebault, hath told me: not that
they, in their long discourses, have not said more ; but
the most of the rest are so common observations, as if a
man should tell a good arithmetician that twice two is
four. I will therefore put an end to this discourse :
and we will here sit down and rest us.

«' but caught never a Carp; whereupon two or three of us stripped,
" and went Into the pool which was provided with such a sort of
** a hedge, in It, as Is before described, whither the Carp had fled for
*' safety; then fishing with our hands on both sides the hedge — that
•' Is, one on either side — we catched what quantity of Carp was
I* wanting." BoivUer, 62.

The reader may also consult a book published about the year 1720,
intltled, A Discourse of Fish and Fish-ponds^ by a person of honour ;
who, I have been told by one that knew him, was the Hon. Roger
North, author of the Lift of the Lord Kteper Guildford, Fide, antet
page 189.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 325

CHAPTER XXI.

directions for making of a Line^ and for the colouring
of both Rod and Line.

PiSCATOR.

WELL, scholar ! I have held yon too long abont
these cadis, and smaller fish, and rivers, and fish-
ponds; and my spirits are almost spent, and so I
doubt is your patience : but being we are now
almost at Tottenham, where I first met you, and
where we are to part, — I will lose no time, but give
you a little direction, How to make and order your
lines, and to colour the hair of which you make your
lines, for that is very needful to be known of an
angler : and, also, how to paint your rod, especially
your top; for a riglit-grown top is a choice com-
modity, and siiould be preserved from thfi water
loaking into it, which makes it, in wet wejilher, to
be heavy, and fish ill-favouredly, and not true :
and, also, it rots quickly for want of painting :
and I think a good top is worth preserving, or I
had not taken care to keep a top above twenty
years *.

• The author having said nothing about thaoslng, or malift^ rods in any
part of his book, it was thought proper, to insert the following directions.
for fishing-at-the-bottom — whether with a running-line or fioat — the
I'eed or cane-rod is, on account of its lightness and elasticity, the best, es-
pecially if you angle for those fish which bite but tenderly, as Roach and
Dace. And of these, there are rods that put up, and make a walking
Stick. There are others, in many joints, that put up altogether in a bag,
and are therefore called bag-rods; these last are very useful to travel
with, as they take up but little room. Next to these, is the hasel : but
that is more apt to warp than the cane ! — these, as also excellent fly-rods,
are to be had at all the fishing-tackle shops in London, and therefore
need no particular description : only be careful, whenever you bespeak a
rod of reed or cane, that the workman does not rasp down into the bark,
which grows round the joints, a fault which the makers of rods are often
g»ilty of; the consequence whereof is, that the rod ii thereby made

T

326 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

But, first, for your Line, First note, that you are
to take care that your hair be round and clear, and

weaker at the joints than elsewhere, — and there being no bark to repel
the wet, it soon rots, and whenever you hook a large fish, certainly break».

But if you live in the country, and are forced to make your own rod»,
take these directions :

Between the latter end of November and Christmas, wh6n the sap u
gone down into the roots of trees, — gather the straitest hasels you can
find—for stocks : and let them, at the greatest end, be about an inch or
more in diameter: at the same time, gather shoots of a less size — for
middle-pieces and tops; Tie them, together, in abundle, and let themlie on
a dry floor ; at the end of fifteen or sixteen months, match them together j
And to the slender end of the tops, — after cutting off about eight or ten
inches, whip a fine taper piece of whalebone of that length; Then cut—
the ends of the stock, the middle-piece and the top — with a long slant,
so that they may join exactly to each other; and spread some shoe-
maker's-wax, very thin, over the slants ; bind them neatly with strong
waxed thread. And lastly, fix a strong loop of horse-hair to the whale-
bone. Let the rod, so made, lie a week to settle before you use it. In
this manner, also, you are to make a fly-rod; only observe, that the latter
must be much slenderer, from the end of the stock, than the former.

But, for the neatest fly-rod you can make : Get a yellow whole-deal
board that is free from knots, cut off about seven feet of the best end, and
saw it into some square breadths; let a joiner plane off the angles, and
make it perfectly round, a little tapering, — and this will serve for the stock;
then piece it to a fine strait hasel, of about six feet long, — and, then, a de-
licate piec« of fine-grained yew, planed round like an arrow, and tapering,—
with whale-bone, as before, of about two feet in length. There is no deter-
Uiining, precisely, the length of a fly-rod; but one of fourteen feet is as long
as can be well managed with onehand,. To colour the stock,— dip a feather
in aqua fortis, and with your hand chafe it into the deal, and it will be of a
cinnamon colour.

But before you attempt this sort of work, — you must be able to bind
neatly, and fasten off; for which directions are given, in the notes on
Chap. XVII.

When the season is over, and you have done with your rods, — take them
to pieceSj and bind the joints to a strait pole, and let them continue so
bound till the «eason returns for using them again. See more directions
about the fly-rod, Part II. Chap. V.

Rods for Barbel, Carp, and other large fish, shouldbe of hasel, and pro-
portionably stronger than those for Roach and Dace. And note, that for
fly-fishing the bamboo-cane is excellent. Screws to rods are not only
heavy, and apt to be out of repair, but they are absolutely unnecessary ;
and the common way of inserting one joint in another is sufficiently se-
cure, if the work be true.

Our forefathers were wont to pursue even their amusements with great
formality. An Angler of the last age must have Ki^fsbing-coaty which, if
Bot black, was, at least, of a very dark colour ; a black velvet cap, like
those which jockies now wear, only larger ; and a rod with a stock as long
as a h albert : And, thus equipped, would he stalk forth with the eyes of a
whole neighbourhood upon him.

JBut in these later days, bog-rods have been invented, which the angler

CHAP. XXI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER; -^ S^

free from galls, or scabs, or frets : for a well-chosen,
even, clear, round hair, of a kind of glass-colour, will
prove as strong as three uneven scabby hairs, that are
ill-chosen, and full of galls, or nnevenness. You
shall seldom find a black hair but it is round, but
many white are flat and uneven; therefore, if you get
a lock of right, round, clear, glass-colour hair, make
much of it.

And for making your line, observe this rule : first, let
your hair be clean washed ere you go about to twist it ;
and then choose not only the clearest hair, for it, but
hairs that be of an equal bigness, for such do usually
stretch all together, and break all together — which
hairs of an unequal bigness never do, but break singly,
and so deceive the angler that trusts to them.

When you have twisted your links, — ^lay them in
water, for a quarter of an hour, at least ; and then
twist them over again before you tie them into a line :
For those that do not so, shall usually find their line to
have a hair, or two, shrink and be shorter than the
rest, at the first fishing with it ; which is so much of the
strength of the line lost, for want of first watering it and
then re- twisting it ; and this is most visible in a seven-
hair line, one of those which hath always a black hair
in the middle*.

may easily contfeal, and do not proclaim to all the world where he is going.
Those for float-fishing are now become common : but this invention has,
lately, been extended to rods for fly-fishing ; and here follows a descrip-
tion of such a neat, portable, and useful one, as no angler, that has once
tried it, will ever be without.

Let the joints be four in number ; and made of hiccory, or some such
Tery tough wood ; and two feet four inches in length, the largest joint
not exceeding half an inch in thickness. The top must be bamboo shaved.
And for the stock : let it be of ash, full in the grasp, of an equal length
with the other joints ; and with a strong ferrule at the smaller end,
made to receive the large joint, which must be well shouldered, and
fitted to it with the utmost exactness.

This rod will go into a bag ; and lie, very well, concealed in a pocket
in the lining of your coat, on the left side, made strait on purpose to re-
ceive it.

* Your line, whether it be a running-line, or for float fishing, had best
be of hair ; unless you fish for Barbel, and then it must be of strong silk.
And the latter [the line for float-fishing] must be proportioned to the ge-
neral size of the fish you expect ; always remembering, that the single
hair is to be preferred, for Roach or Dace-fishing. But the fly-line is t«

T 2

S28 f HE COMPLETE ANGLER. PAllT t*

And for df/wg of your hairs: Do it thus: take a
pint of strong ale, half a pound of soot, and a little

be very strong ; and, for the greater facility In throwing', should be
eighteen or twenty hairs at the top, and so diminishing insensibly to the
hook. There are lines now to be had, at the fishing-tackle shops, that
have no joints, but wove in one piece.

But notwithstanding this, and other improvements, — perhapi, some
may still choose to make their own lines. In which case, if they prefer
those twisted with the fingers, they need only observe the rules given by
the author for that purpose : But, for greater neatness and expedition, I
would recommend an engine lately invented, which is now to be had at
almost any fishing tackle shop in London t it consists of a large horizon-
tal wheel, and three very small ones, inclosed in a brass box about a
quarter of an inch thick, and two inches in diameter ; the axis of each of
the small wheels is continued through the under-side of the box, and is
formed into a hook ; by means of a strong screw, it may be fixed in any
post or partition ; and is set in motion, by a small winch in the centre
of the box.

To twist links with this engine : Take as many hairs as you intend
each shall consist of; and dividing them into three parts, tie each parcel
to a bit of fine twine, about six inches long, doubled, and put through
the aforesaid hooks ; then take a piece of lead, of ^ conical figure, two
Inches high, and two in diameter at the base, with a hook at the apex, or
point ; tie your three parcels of hair into one knot, and to this, by the-
hook, hang the weight.

Lastly, Take a quart, or larger, bottle-cork; and cut into the sides, at
equal distances, three grooves : and, placing it so as to receive each di-
vision of hair, begin to twist : you will find the link begin to twist with
great evenness at the lead ; as it grows tighter, shift the cork a little
upwards; and when the whole is sufiiciently twisted, take out the cork,
and tie the link into a knot; and so pi oceed till you have twisted linkf
sufficient for your line, observing to lessen the number of hairs In each
link in such proportion as that the line may be taper. See the engine,
Plate XII. Fig. 7. — Fig. 8. is the form of the cork.

When you use the fly, — you will find it necessary to continue your line
to a greater degree of fineness: in order to which — supposing the line to
be eight yards in length — fasten a piece of three, or four, twisted links,
tapering till it becomes of the size ©f a fine grass; and to the end of this,
fix your hook-link, which should be either of very fine grass, or silk- worm
gut. A week's practice r/ill enable a learner to throw one of these lines :
and he may lengthen It, by a yard at a time, at the greater end, till he
can throw fifteen yards neatly ; till when, he is to reckon himself but a
novice.

For the colour : You must be determined by that of the river you fish
in: but I have found that a Line of the colour of pepper and salt, when
mixed, will suit any water.

Many inconveniencles attend the use of twisted [open] hairs for your
hook-line; see Part II. Chap. V. Sillc-worm gut is both fine, and very
itrong ; but then it is apt to fray, — though this may, in some measure, be
prevented by waxing it well.

Indian, or sea- grass, makes excellent hook lines; and — .though some
•bject to it, »» being apt to grow b|ittle, aad to klok ifl ujiiJg— witfe

^HAP. XXI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 329

quantity of the juice of walnut-free leaves, and an equal
quantity of allum; put these together into a pot, pan,
or pipkin, and boil them half an hour; and having so
done, let it cool; and being cold, put your hair into it,
and there let it lie; it will turn your hair to be a kind
of water, or glass, colour, or greenish, — and the longer
you let it lie, the deeper coloured it will be. You
might be taught to make many other colours : but it is
to liifle purpose ; for doubtless the water-colour, or
glass-coloured hair, is the most choice and most useful
for an angler, — but let it not be too green.

But if you desire to colour hair greener, then do it
thus : take a quart of small ale, half a pound of
allum ; then put these into a pan, or pipkin, and your
hair into it with them; then put it upon a fire, and let
it boil softly for half an hour ; and then take out your
hair, and let it dry;- — and having so done, then take a
pottle of water, and put into it two handfuls of mari-
golds, and cover it with a tile, or what you think fit,
and set it again on the fire, where it is to boil again
softly for half an hour, about which time the scum
will turn 3^ellow; then put into it half a pound of
copperas, beaten small, and with it the hair that you
intend to colour; then let the hair be boiled softly till
half the liquor be wasted, — and then let it cool, three
or four hours, with your hair in it: And you are to
observe, that the more copperas you put into it, the

proper management, it Is the best material for the purpose yet known,

especially if ordered in the following manner.

Take as many — of the finest you can get — as you please : put them into
any vessel; and pour therein the scummed fat of a pot wherein freSh,
bpt by no means salt, meat has been boiled : When they have lain three
or four hours, take them out, one by one ; and — stripping the grease off,
with your finger and thumb ; but do not w^ipe them — stretch each grass
as long as it will yield: Coil them up in rings, aiid lay them by: And
you will find them become near as sniall, full as round, and much stronger
than the best single hairs you can get. To preserve them moist, — keep
them in a piece of bladder well oiled: and, before you use them, let them
soak about halfap hour in water; or, in your walk to the river-side, put
a length of jt into your mouth.

If your grass is coarse, it will fall heayily in the water, and scare away
the fish; on which account, gut has the advantage. But, after all, if
yjur grass be fine and round, it is the best thing you can use.

T 3

330 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART !•

greener it will be : but doubtless, the pale green is best :
But if you desire yellow Iwir — which is only good,
when the weeds rot — then put in the more marigolds;
and abate most of the copperas, or leave it quite out,
and take a little verdigrease instead of it.

This for colouring your hair.

And as iox painting i/our rod^ which must be in oil :
You must, first, make a size with glue and water,
boiled together, until the glue be dissolved, and the
size, of a lye-colour: then strike your size upon ihe
wood, with a bristle, or a brush, or pencil, whilst it is
Lot: that being quite dry, take white-lead, and a little
red-lead, and a little coal-black, so much as altogether
will make an ash-colour ; grind these alto;^ether with
linseed-oil, — let it be thick; and lay it, thin, upon the
wood with a brusjli or pencil: this do for the ground
of any colour, to lie upon wood.

For a green : take pink and verdigrease, and grind
them together in linseed- oil, as thin as you can well
grind it: then lay it smoothly on with your brush,
and drive it thin ; once doing, for the most part will
serve, if you lay it well : and if twice, — be sure your
first colour be thoroughly dry, before you lay on a
second.

Well, scholar ! having now taught you to paint your
rod, — and we having still a mile to Tottenham-high*
cross, I will, as we walk towards it in the cool shade
of this sweet honeysuckle hedge, mention to you some
of the thoughts and joys that have possest n y soul since
we two met together. And these thoughts snail be told
you, that you also may join with me, in thankfulness,
to the Giver of every good and perfect gift, for our hap-
piness. And that our present happiness may appear
to be the greater, and we the more thankful for it, —
I will beg you to consider witli me, how many do,
.£ven at this very time, lie under the torment of the
stone, the gout, and tooth-ache ; and this we are free
from. And every misery that I miss is a new mercy;
and therefore let us be thankful. There have been,
since we met, others that have met disasters of broken
limbs; some have been blasted, other* thunder-struck^

©HIP. XXI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER* S31

cn : And we have been freed from these, aud all those
many other miseries that threaten human nature; let
lis therefore rejoice, and be thankful. Nay, which is
a far greater mercy, we are free from the unsupportable
burthen of an accusing tormenting conscience ; a mi-
sery that none can bear : And therefore let us praise
him for his preventing grace, and say, every misery
that I miss is a new mercy. Nay, let me tell you,
there be many tbat have forty times our estates;
that would give the greatest part of it, to be health-
ful and chearful, like us who, with the expence of
a litde money, have eat and drank, and laugh t,
and angled, and sung, and slept securely ; and rose,
next day, and cast away care, and sung, and laugh f,
and angled again ; which are blessings rich men
cannot purchase with all their money. Let me tell
you, scholar! I have a rich neighbour, that is
always so busy that he has no leisure to iaugh ; the
whole business of his life is to get money, and more
money, that he may still get more and more money ;
he is still drudging on, and says, that Solomon says,
*' The diligent hand maketh rich," — and it is true
indeed : But, he considers not, that it is not in the
power of riches to make a man happy : for it was
wisely said, by a man of great observation, ^' That
*' there be as many miseries beyond riches, as on
" this side them. And yet God deliver us from
pinching poverty ; and grant, that having a com*
petency, we may be content, and thankful. Let
not us repine, or so much us think the gifts of God
unequally dealt, if we see another abound with
riches; when, as God knows, the cares, that are
the keys that keep those riches, hang often so heavily
at the rich man's girdle, that they clog him with
weary days and restless nights, even when others
sleep quietly. We see but the outside of the rich
man's happiness ; few consider him to be like the
sijk-worm, that, when she seems to play, is, at the
very same time, spinning her own bowels, and con*-
euming herself,--and this many rich men do ; loading
themselves with corroding cares, to keep what they
have, probably, unconscionably got. Let uS; tlvere-

T 4

332 THE COMPLETE ANGLEE. PART I.

fore, be thankful for health ; and, a competence ; and,
above all, for a quiet conscience.

Let me tell you, scholar ! that Diogenes walked, on a
day, with his friend, to see a country-fair: where, he
saw ribbons, and looking-glasses, and nut-crackers,
and fiddles, and hobby-horses, and many other gim-
cracks ; and — having observed them, and all the other
finnimbruns* that make a compleat country-fair — he
said to his friend : " Lord how many things are tliero
*' in this world ot' which Diogenes hath no need !" And
truly it is so, or might be so, with very many who vex
and toil themselves to get what they have no need of.
Can any man charge God, that he hath not given him
enough to make his life happy? No, doubtless; for
nature is content with a little. And yet you shall
Lardly meet with a man, that complains not of some
want : though he, indeed, wants nothing but his will —
it may be, nothing but his will — of his poor neigh-
bour, for not worshipping, or not flattering him :
And, thus, when we might be happy and quiet, we
create trouble to ourselves. I have heard of a man
that was angry with himself because he was no taller ;
and of a woma^n that broke her looking-glass because it
would iiot shew her face to be as young and handr
some as her next neighbour's was. And I knew another
to whom God had given — health and plenty : but — a
wife that nature had made peevish, and her husband's
riches had made purse-proud ; and, must — because she
was rich, and for no other virtue — sit in the highest
pew in the church : which being denied her, she en-
gaged her husband into a contention for it, and at last
into a law-suit, with a dogged neighbour ^ho was
as rich as he, and had a wife as peevish and purse-
proud as the other : And this law-suit begot higher op-
positions, and actionable words, and more vexations and
law-suits ; for you must remember that both were rich,
and must therefore have their will : Well! this wilful,
purse-proud law-suit, lasted during the life of the first
husband; after which, his wife vext and chid, and

* 1 take this to be a word of the author's own invention j for I cannot
find it in any dictionary. '

CHAP. XXI. THE COMPtETE ANGLER. 333

chid and vext, fill she also chid and vext herself into
her grave: And so the Avealth of these poor rich-peo-
ple, Avas curst into a punishment, because they wanted
meek and thanlifid hearts ; for those only can make us
bappy. I knew a man tliat had health and riches ; and
several houses, all beautiful, and ready furnished ; and
would often trouble himself and family to be removing
from one house to another: and being asked by a
friend. Why he removed so often from one house to
another? replied, " It was to find content in some
*' one of them." But his friend knowing his temper,
told him, If he would find content in any of his houses,
he must leave himself behind him; for content will
never dwell but in a meek and quiet soul. And this
may appear, if we read and consider what our Savi-
our says in St. Matthew's Gospel; for he there says,—
^' Blessed be the merciful, for they shall obtain
^' mercy. — Blessed be the pure in heart, for they shall
^' see God. — Blessed be the poor in spirit, for theirs
" is the kingdom of heaven. And, — Blessed be the
*' meek, for they shall possess the earth." Not that
the meek shall not, also obtain mercy, and see God^
and be comforted, and at last come to the kingdom
of heaven: but, in the mean time, he, and he only7^
possesses the earth — as he goes towards that kingdom J^
of heaven — by being humble and chearful, and con*
tent with what his good God has allotted him. He
Jias no turbulent, repining, vexatious thoughts that he
deserves better ; nor is vext when he sees others possest
of more honour or more riches than his wise God has
allotted for his share: — but he possesses wiiat he has,
with a meek and contented quietness, such a quietness
as makes his very dreams pleasing, both to God and
himself.

My honest scholar! all this is told to incline you
to thankfulness: And to incline you the more, let
me tell you, that though the prophet David was
guilty of murder and adultery, and many otlier of
the most deadly sins, — yet he was said to be a man
after God^s own* heart, because he abounded more
^ith thankfiiinpss than any otlier that is mentioued ia

SM THE COMPLETE ANGLER, PART I,

holy scripture, as may appear in his book of Psalms ;
■where there is such a commixture, of his confessing of
Ills sins and unworthiness, and such thankfulness for
God's pardon and mercies, as did make him to be ac«»
counted, even by God himself, to be a man after his own ,
Iieart : And let us, in that, labour to be as like him as
wc can ; let not the blessings we receive daily from God,
make us not to value, or not praise him, because they
be common ; let us not forget to praise him, for the in*
nocent mirth and pleasure we have met with, since
we met together. What would a blind man give to
see the pleasant rivers, and meadows, and flowers, and
fountains, that we have met with, since we met to^
gether! I have been told, that if a man that was born
blind, could obtain to have his sight for but only one
hour, during his whole life; and should, at the first
opening of his eyes, fi:x: his sight upon the sun when it
"was in its full glory, either at the rising or setting of it;
he would be so transported and amazed, and so admire
the glory of it, that he would not willingly turn his eyes
from that first ravishing object, to behold all the other
various beauties this world could present to him. And
this, and many other like blessings, weenjoydaily. And
for most of them, because they be so common, most
men forget to pay their praises: but let not us; because
it is a sacrifice so pleasing to Him that made the sun
and us, — and still protects us, — and gives us flowers
and showers, and stomachs and meat, and content, and
leisure to go a fishing.

Well, scholar! I have almost tired myself, and, I
fear, more than almost tired you. But 1 now seeTot-!-
tenham-high-cross : and our short walk thither shall
put a period to my too long discourse; in which my
meaning was and is, To plant that in your mind, with
which 1 labour to possess my own soul, that is, a meek
and thankful heart. And to that end, I have shewed
you, That riches without them, [meekness and thank-
fulness] do not make any man happy. But let me tell
you. That riches with them, remove many fears and
cares. And therefore my advice is. That you endea*
your to be honestly rich, or contentedly poor : but be

Jfi'

Fl.T'TEr.

rinraj rar J'J^.a^j

CHAP. XXI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 335

sure that your riches be justly got, or you spoil all.
For it is well said by Caussm*, " he that loses his con-
** science, has nothing left that is worth keeping.*'
Therefore be sure you look to that. And, in the next
place, look to your health : and if you have it-, praise
God, and value it next to a good conscience ; for health
is the second blessing that we mortals are capable of, — a
blessing that money cannot buy, — and therefore value it,
and be thankful for if. As for money, which may be
said to be the third blessing, — neglect it not : but note,
that there is no necessity of being rich ; for^ I told you,
there be as many miseries beyond riches as on this
side them : and, if you have a competence, — enjoy it
with a meek, chearful,. thankful heart. I will tell you,
scholar! I have heard a grave divine + say, that God
has two dwellings ; one in heaven ; and the other in a
meek and thankful heart, — which almighty God grant
to me, and to ray honest scholar ! And so you are wel-
come to Tottenham-high-cross.

Ven. Well, master ! 1 thank you for all your good
directions : Jbut for none more than this last, of thank-
fulness; which I hope I shall never forget. And pray
let's now rest ourselves in this sweet shady arbour;
which nature herself has woven with her own fine
fingers; it is such a contexture of woodbines, sweet-
briar, jessamin, and myrtle, — and so interwoven,^ as
will secure us both from the sun's violent heat, and
from the approaching shower. And, being sat down,
I will requite a j^art of your courtesies, with a bottle
ofiack, milk, oranges, and sugar; which all put to-
gether, make a drink like nectar, indeed, too good

for any body but us anglers. And so, master!

here is a full glass to you of that liquor. And when
you have pledged me, I will repeat the verses which

* Nicholas Caussiny a native of Troyes in Champagne, wrote a book
called, the Holy Court; of which, there is an English translation in folio.
He was esteemed a person of great probity, and of such a spirit, that he
attempted to displace cardinal Richelieu; but tliat minister proved too
hard for him, and got him banished. I'he sentiment above quoted from
him is worthy of Marcus Antoninus, or, if that be not enough to say, of
Dr. Jeremy Taylor himself.

t Dr. Donne ; as a reverend and learned friend of mine informs me.

336 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART I.

I promised you; it is a coipy printed, among some of
Sir Henry Wotton's *, and doubtless made either by
him, or by a lover of angling. Come, master! now
drink a glass to me, and then I will pledge you, and
fall to my repetition ; it is a description of such country
Tecreations, as I have enjoyed since I had the happines*
to fall into your company.

Quivering fears ; heart -tearing cares !
Anxious sighs ! untimelj' teara!

Flv, fljr to courts,—

Fij to fond worldlings' sports, —
^ Where strain'd Sardonic, smiles + are glosing still ;

And, Grief is forc'd to laugh against her wilU

Where mirth's but mummery j

4.nd sorrows, only, real be j *

Fly, from our country pastimes, fly,
Sad troops of human misery !

— Come, serene looks!

Clear as the crystal brooks,
Or the pure azur'd heaven, that smiles to set
The rich attendance on our poverty;

Peace and a secure mind.

Which all men seek, we only findf

Abused mortals ! did you know

Where joy, heart's-ease, and comforts grow, —

You'd scorn proud towers.

And seek them in these bowers ;
Where winds, sometimes, our woods perhaps rpaj shake,
feut blust'ring care could never tempest make,

Nor murmurs e'er come nigh us,

Savins: of fouDtajps that glide by us,

Here's no fantastick mask — nor dance,
Sut of our kids that frisk and prance ;

* See Rdiqu'ta Wottontana^ 8vo, 1685, page 390.

\ JFeigned or forced srxii\t% from the word Sardon^ the name of a herb--T
■yesembling smallagty and gro-yving in Sardinia —which being eatenby men,
eontracts the muscles, and excites laughter, even to death. Vide Erc^^m
'^dogia^ tit. Risus*

CHAP* XXI, THE COMPLET-E ANGLER. $S7

Nor taars are seen,—

Unless, upon the green,
Two harmless lambs are butting one the other.
Which done, both bleating run, each to his mother f

And wounds are never found.

Save what the plough-share give* the ground.

Here are no entrapping baitSj
To hasten to too ha&ty fates,—

Unless it be

The fond credulitj
Of sill^ fish, which, worldling like, »till look
Upon the bait, but never on the hook ;

Nor envy, — 'less among

The birds, for prize of their sweet song.

Go, let the diving negro seek

For gems, hid in some forlorn creek c

We all pearls scorn.

Save what the dewy mora
Congeals upon each little spire of grais,
Which careless shepherds beat down as they pan ;

And gold ne'er here appears,

Save what the yellow Ceres bears.

Blest silent groves ! oh may you be,
Forever, mirth's best nursery;

May pure contents

For ever pitch their tents
Upon these downs, these meads, these rocks, these nioun*

tains, —
And peace, still slumber by these purling fountains t

Which we may, every year,

Meet when we come a fishing here !

Pise, Trust me, scholar ! I thank you heartily for
these verses ; they be choicely good, and doubtless
made by a lover of angling. Come, now, drink a
glass to me: and 1 will requite you with another
very good coj^y : it is a farewell to the vanities of the ^
world, and, some say, written by Sir Harry Wotton,
who, I told you, was an excellent angler. But, letthem
be writ by whom they will, he that writ them had a brave

SS8 THE COMPLETE ANGLER* PART !•

soul, and must needs be possest with happy thoughts
at the time of their composure.

Farewel, ye gilded follies ! pleasing troubles f
Farewel, ye honour'd rags ! ye glorious bubbles !
Fame's but a hollow echo; gold, pare clay;
Honour the darling but of one short day :
Beauty, th* eye's idol, but a damask'd skin ;
State, but a golden prison to live in.
And torture free-born minds; embroidered trains.
Merely but pageants for proud swelling veins;
And blood ally'd to greatness is, alone
Inherited — not purchased ; nor, our own.

Fame, honour, beauty, state, train, blood and birth,

Are but the fading blossoms of the earth.

I would be great, but that the sun doth still

Level his rays against the rising hill :

I would be high, but see the proudest oak

Most subject to the rending thunder-stroke :

I would be rich, but see men, too unkind.

Dig in the bowels of the richest, mind; [min'd :]

1 would be wise, but that I often see

The fox suspected, whilst the ass goes free :

I would be fair, but see the fair and proud.

Like the bright sun, oft setting in a cloud :

I would be poor, but know the humble grass

Still trampled on by each unworthy ass : —

Rich, hated : wise, suspected : scoro'd, if poor :

Great, fear'd : fair, tempted : high, still envy'd more*
I have wish'd all ; but now I wish for neither, —
Great, high, rich, wise, nor fair: poor I'll be, rather-

Would the World, now, adopt me for her heir ;
Would beauty's Queen entitle me the fair ;
Fame speak me fortune's minion,— could I ** vie
** Angels," with India *, — with a speaking eye

ViS

* An angel is a piece of coin, value ten shillings. The words to
angels are a periphrasis [a metonimy,] and signify to compare tuealth. In
the old ballad of the Beggars Daughter of Betbnal-green^ — a competition of
this kind is introduced: a young knight, about to marry the beggar's
daughter, is dissuaded from so unequal a match by some gentlemen, his
relations, who urge the poverty of her father : the beggar challenges
them to drop angels with him ; and fairly empties the purses of them all.

CHAP. XXI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 339

Command bare heads, bow'd knees ; strike justice, dumb,

As well as blind and lame ; or, give a tongue

To stones, by epitaphs, — be call'd " great master,"

In the loose rhimes of every poetaster i

Could I be more than any man that lives,-—

Great ; fair ; rich ; wise ; all, in superlatives :

Yet I, more freely, would these gifts resign.

Than, ever, fortune would have made them mine :

And, hold one minute of this holy leisure,

Beyond the riches of this empty pleasure.

The contest*, and its issue ; are related in the following stanzas, part of
th« ballad.

Th;n spake the blind beggar : " Although I be poore,
** Yett rayle not against my child at my own door :
«« Though shea be not decked in velvet and pearle,
*' Yett 1 will drefi/t angtlls with you formy girle.

" And then, if my gold may better her birthe,
« And equall the gold that you lay on the earth ;
•• Then neyther rayle, nor grudge, you ! to see
<* The blind beggar** daughter a lady to bee.

♦* But, first, you shall promise, and have itt well knowne,
♦* The gold that you drop shall all be your owne."
With that they replyed : * Contented bee wee.*
•* Then here's" (quoth the beggar), " for prettye Bessee.'*

With that, an angell he cast on the ground :

And dropped, in angells, full three thousand pound ;

And, oftentimes, (it was proved most plain,)

For the gentleman's one, the beggar dropt twayne :

Soe that the place wherein they did sitt.

With gold it was covered, every whitt.

The gentlemen, then, having dropt all their store,

Sayd : * Now, beggar ! hold ; for ive hare no more :'

* Thou hast fulfilled thy promise aright.*

« Then marry my girl," quoth he to the knight ;

** And, here," added he, " I will, now, throwe you downe

"A hundred pounds more to buy her a gowne."

The neighbourhood of Bethnal-Green, is seldom without a public-
house with a sign representing The Beggar^ and tht Dissuadcrs of tbt matcb,
dropping gold i the Yeung'Womctni and tbe Knigbt her lover ^ itandwg beHvctH
tbtm.

^0 THE COr,IPLETE ANGLER. PART I-

Welcome, pure thoughts ! welcome, je silent groves !
These guests, these courts, mj soul most clearly loves*
Now, the wing'd people of the sky shall singf
My chearful anthems to the gladsome spruig :
A prayer-book, now, shall be my looking-glass,
In which 1 will adore sweet virtue's face.
Here, dwell no hateful looks, no palace-cares^
No broken vows dwell here, nor pale*fac'd fears }
Then, here, Til sit ; and sigh my hot love's folly,
AnJ learn t' affect an holy melancholy :
And if contentment be a stranger then,
I'll ne'er look for it — but in heaven — again ».

Vett, Well, master! these verses be worthy to
keep a room in every man's memory, I thank you for
them ; and I thank you for your many instructions,
■which, God willing, I will not forget. And as St*
Austin, in his Confessions^ book 4. chap. S, comme-
morates the kindness of his friend Verccundus, for
lending him and his companion a country-house ; be-
cause, there, they rested and enjoyed themselves free
from the troubles of the world : so, having had the
like advantage — both by your conversation, and the
art you have taught me — I ought, ever, to do the like ;
for, indeed, your company and discourse have been so
iiseful and pleasant, that, I may truly say, 1 have only

* To the many short poems, abounding with fine moral sentiments,
contained in this book,— I here add the following lines of Mr. Cowley,
translated from Martial, Li6. II. £fiig. 53 ; which — far surpassing the
original, exhibit a lovely picture of a contented mind : and — for the
manly spirit of independence that breathes in them, I have never yet
j»een equalled by any in our own language.

Would you he/ree F 'Tis your chief wish, you say.
Come on, I'll shew thee, friend ! the certain way.
If to no feasts, abroad, thou lov'st to go,
Whilst bounteous God does bread at home bestow ;
If thou the goodness of thy cloatbs dost prize,
By thine own use, and not by others eyes ;
If (only safe from weathers) thou canst dwell,
In a small house — but a convenient shell ;
If thou, without a sigh, or golden wish,
Canst look upon thy beechen bowl and dish :
If in thy mind such power and greatness be.
The Persian king's a slave, compar'd with thee.

eilAP. XXI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER* S41

lived, since I enjoyed them and turn'd angler, and not
before. Nevertiicless, here I mnst part with you;
here in this — now sad — place, where I was so happy as
first to meet you ; but I shall long for the ninth of
May; for, then, I hope again to enjoy your beloved
company, at the appointed time and place. And^
now, I wish for some sortiniferons potion, that might
force me io sleep away the intermitted time ; which
will pass away with me as tediously, as it does with
men in sorrow : nevertheless I will make it as short as I
can, by my hopes and wishes. And, my good mas-
ter, I will not forget the doctrine which you told me
Socrates taught his scholars! That they should not
think to be honoured so much for being philosophers,
as to honour philosopliy by their virtuous lives : —
You advised me to the like concerning angling, and 1
will endeavour to do so; and to live like those many
wortliy men, of which you made mention in the for-
mer part of your discourse. This is my firm re-
solution. And as a pious man advised his friend :
That) to beget mortification, he should frequent
churches, and view monuments, and cliarnel*houses ;
and then and there consider, how many dead bodies
time had piled up at the gates of death : so when I
would beget content, and Increase confidence in the
power, and wisdom, and providence of Almighty
God, — I will walk the meadows, by some gliding
stream; and, there, contemplate the lilies that take
no care, and those^very many — other various, little
living-creatures that are not only created, but fed, man
knows not how, by the goodness of the God of nature ;
and therefore ("I will] trust in him: This is my pur-
pose: And so, let every thing that hath breath praise
the .Lord. And let the blessing of St. Peter's Master,
be with mine —

Pise, And upon all that are lovers of_virtjie; and
dare trust in His providence ; and be quTet ; and go
a-angling,

« Study to be quiet." 1 Thess. iv. ] 1.
THE END OF THE FIRST PART,

^

(

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p.;.42-

J'rutted rbr S.iitufjtrr,jSu<f.

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P-342.

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[ 3^3 ]

IT is imagined^ that the se'veral descriptions^ of
River-fish, contained in the foregoing pages, are
abundantl?/ siffficient for the information of any mere
angler. Mut those who are curious to know the es-
sential differences between the various species-^are
hereby recommended to a work entitled, Ichthyogra-
pbia, s, Historia Piscium, by Francis Willughbyy
Esq, Oxon, 1686; and to a posthumous work of
that learned man and excellent naturalist, the Re*
'^erend Mr* John Ray, entitled Synopsis Methodica
Avium & Piscium, published by Dr. Derham, in
Octavo, 1713.

And whereas, in page 306, n. it is hinted^ that the
history of Aquatic Insects is hut little known;
nnd this stupendous branch of natural science is
well worthy of further investigation; the reader iS
hereby directed to the perusal of the Life of the
Ephemeron — an insect little differing from our green,
and grey, drake, — translated from the Low Dutch
of Dr, Swamvierdam, by Br, Edw, Tyson, London,
Quarto, 1681. And for his further information on
this subject,^-'We have added, as the first number of
the Appendix to this work, a translation of a Sy-
nopsis of these creatures, drawn out from the obser-
vations of the above Mr, Willughby, and exhibited
in Mr, Ray^s Methodus Insectorum, mentioned by
Dr* Derham in his Physico Theology, page 234.
It is not for the improvement of Angling y alone^ that
V 9

C 544 ]

the ahcce authors are referred to t'^thc stuih/ oj
the works of nature^ is the most effectual way^ to
open and enlarge the mind^ and excite in us the
affections of reverence and gratitude towards that
Being, whose wisdom and goodness are discernible
in the structure of the meanest reptile. Further,
The wisdom of God receives small honour from
those vulgar heads that rudely stare about, and with
a gross rusticity admire his works : those, highly mag-
nify him, whose judicious inquiry into his acts, and
deliberate research into his creatures, return the duty
of a devout and learned admiratian. Religio Medici ,
Sect. 13.

SOME

ACCOUNT

OF THE

LIFE AND WRITINGS

OP

CHARLES COTTON, Esq. •

CHARLES COTTON, Esq. was descended frora
an honourable family, of the town and county of
Soutluimpton. His grandfather was Sir George
Cotton^ Knight; and his grandmother, Cassandra
the heiress of a family named Mac WilUams: — the
issue of their marriage were — a daughter, named Cas*
Sandra, who died unmarried; and a son, named
Charles^ who, settling at Ovingden in the county
of Sussex, married 0//re, the daughter of Sir JoJuh
Stanhope^ of Elvaston in the county of Derby,
Knight, half brother to Philip, the first Earl of
Chesterfield, and ancestor of the present Earl of
Harrington, — and by her had issue Charles, the.
author of the ensuing Dialogues t.

♦ It has been thought proper to omit the Letter to the Editor in tlie
former impression, and to give the Life of Mr. Cotton in another form»
retaining nevertheless such facts as are best ascertained, and seem in
any degree worthy of credit.

f The above is the account of Mr. Cotton's descent, as given by
Mr. Oldys, in the former edition; but \x. agrees not — m what respects

u 3

348 LIFE OF COTTON.

Of the elder Charles we learn from unquestionable
authority, that he was, even when young, a person
of distinguished parts and accomplishments; for in
the enumeration of those eminent persons whom Mr.
Hyde, afterwards the lord chancellor Clarendon,
chose for his friends and associates, while a student
of the law, — we find Mr. Cotton mentioned ; toge-
ther with Ben Jonson ; Mr. Selden ; Mr. John
Vaughan, afterwards lord chief justice; Sir Kenelm
Digby ; Mr. Thomas May, the translator of Lucan ;
and Thomas Carew, the poet. The characters of
these several persons are exhibited, with tlie usual ele-
gance and accuracy of their author in the Life of
JSdward, earl of Clarendon y written by himself, and
lately published: that of Mr. Cotton here follows:

'' Charles Cotton was a gentleman born to a
*' competent fortune, and so qualified in his person
*' and education, that for many years he continued
*' the greatest ornament of the town, in the esteem
*^ of those who had been best bred. His natural
*^ parts were very great, his wit flowing in all the parts
*' of conversation: the superstructure of learning not
*' raised to a considerable height ; but having passed
** som.e years in Cambridge, — and then, in France, —
*^ and conversing always with learned men, — his ex-
^' pressions were, ever, proper and significant, and
*' gave great lustre to his discourse upon any argu-
*' ment ; so that he was thought by those who were
'* not intimate with him, to have been much better
*' acquainted with books than he was. He had all
*' those qualities, which in youth raise men to the
*' reputation of being fine gentlemen; such a plea-
*^ santness and gaiety of humour, such a sweet-
*^ ness and gentleness of nature, and such a civility
*' and delightfulness in conversation, that no man, in
*' the court or out of it, appeared a more accomplished
*' person; all these extraordinary qualifications being
** supported by, as extraordinary, a clearness of cou-

his being descended, by the mother's side, from the family of Mat
fVilliams — with Colhns's account of Sir John Stanhope, in his Peeragtj
iMider the article Stanhope, Earl of Chesterfield.

LIFE OF COTTON. 349

^' rage and fearlessness of spirit, of which he gave too
'^ often manifestation. Some unhappy suits in law,
'^ and waste of his fortune in those suits, made some
^' impression on his mind ; which— being improved by
'^ domestic afflictions, and those indulgencies to him-
" self which naturally attend those afflictions-^ren-
*' dered his age less reverenced than his youth had
*'. been, and gave his best friends cause to have wished
*' that lie had not lived so long."

The younger Mr, Cotton was born on the 28th day
of April, 1630. And having, as we must suppose, re-
ceived such a school education as qualified him for an
university, he was sent to Cambridge, where also his
father had studied : he had for his tutor Mr. Ralph
Rawson, once a fellow of Brazen-nose college, Oxford,
but who had been ejected from his fellowship by the
parliament visitors, in 1648, This person he has grate-
fully celebrated, in a Translation of an Ode of Johan-
nes Secundus.

What was the course of his studies ; whether they
tended to qualifiy him for either of the learned profes-
sions,' — or, to furnish liim with those endowments of
general learning and polished manners, which are re-
quisite in the character of a gentleman ; we know not :
It is however certain, that in the university he improv-
ed his knowledge of the Greek and Roman classics,
and became a perfect master of the French and Italian
languages.

But whatever were the views of his father in placing
him at Cambridge, — we find not, that he betook him-
self, in earnest, to the pursuit of any lucrative profes-
sion ; it is true, that, in a poem of his writing, he
hints that he had a smattering of the Law, which he
had gotten

More by practice, than reading ;

By sitting^ o' th' bench ♦ while others were pleading.

But it is rather 'probable ; that, returning from tli^

♦ Probably, in his more advanced yeare, at seiiiens, ai a ji^stice of th«
peace in hi* county,

u 4

Sbo

XjITE of cot ion.

university to his father's, he addicted himself to tlie
lighter kinds of study, and the improvement of a
talent in poeiri/, of wliich he found himself pos-
sessed; and also, that he might travel abroad, — for,
in one of his poems*, he says he had been at Roan.
His father having married a lady of a Derbyshire
family ; and she being the daughter and heiress of
Edward Beresford, of Beresford and Enson in Stafford*
shire, and of Bently in the county of Derby ; it may
be presumed, that the descent of the family seat at
Beresford to her, might have been the inducement with
her husband to remove, ^vith his family, from their
first settlement at Ovingden, to Beresford, a village
near the Peak in Derbyshire, and in the neighbourhood
of the Dove,-— a river that divides the counties of
Derby and Staftbrd, and of which the reader will be
told so much hereafter.

And, here, we may suppose the younger Mr,
Cotton, tempted by the vicinity of a river plentifully-
stored with fish of the best kinds, to have chosen
Angling for his recreation ; and, looking upon it to be,
■what Walton rightly terms it, an arl^ to have applied
himself to the improvement of that branch of it,
Jishing with an artificial fy. To this end, he made
himself acquaiiilcd with the nature of aquatic insects,
with the forms and colours of the several flies that
are found on or near rivers, the times of their ap-
pearance and departure, and the methods of imi-
tating them with furs, silks, feathers, and other ma-
terials ; in all which researches, he exercised such
patience, industry, and ingenuity, and succeeded sp
'VYell, — that having, in the following Dialogues^ com-
municated to the publick the result of his experience,
he must be deemed the great improver of this elegant
recreation, and a benefactor to his posterity.

There is reason to think, that, after his leaving the
university, he was received into his father's family ;
for we are told that his father, being a man of bright
parts, gave him themes and authors whereon to cx-

* The Wonders of the Fcak.

MFE OF COTTON. 351

ercise his judgment and learning, even to the time of
his entering into the state of matrimony*; the first
fruit of which exercises was, as it seems, his Elegy o/i
the gallant Lord Derby f .

In 1656, being then twenty-six years of age; and
b fore any patrimony had descended to him, or he had
any visible means of subsisting a family; he married a
distant relation, Isabella, daughter of Sir Thomas Hut-
chinson, ofOwthorp, in the county of Nottingham,
Knt. J The distress in which this step might have in-
volved him, was averted by the death of his father, in
1658, an event that put him into thp possession of the
family estate : but, from the character of his father, as
^iven by lord Clarendon, it cannot be supposed but
ihat it was struggling with law-suits, and laden with
incumbrances.

The great Lord Falkland was wont to say, that he
pitied unlearned gentlemen in rainy weather : Mr. Cot-
ton might possibly entertain the same sentiment; for, in
this situation, we find that his employments were —
STUDY, for his delight and improvement, and fishing,
for his recreation and health ; for each of which several
employments, we may suppose he chose the fittest times
and seasons.

In 16613, he published the Moral Philosophy of the
Stoics; translated — from the French of Monsieur de
V^aix, president of the parliament of Provence — in obe-
dience, as the Preface informs us, to a command of
his father, doubtless with a view to his improvement
in the science of morality ; and, this, notwithstanding
the book had been translated by Dr. James, the first
keeper of the Bodleian library, above threescore years
before.

His next publication was Scarronides, or Virgil tra-
ijesticy being the first book of Virgil's JEneis^ in Eng-
lish burlesque, 8vo. 1604. Concerning which, and
also the fourth book, translated by him, and afterwaids
published ; it may be sufiicient to say, — that, for degrad-

* Oldys*sXr/>, xii» + Jbid. f Uid.xm.

55t LIFE OF COTTON.

ing sublime poetry into doggrel, Scarron's example is
no authority; and that, were the merit of this practice
greater than many men think it, those who admire the
wit, the humour, and the learning of Ilitdibras, cannot
but be disgusted at the low buffoonery, the forced wit,
and the coarseness and obscenity of the Virgil travesiie,
— and yet the poem has its admirers ; is commended by
Sir John Suckling, in his Session of the Poets ; and has
passed fourteen editions.

To say the truth, — the absurdity of that species of
the mock epic, which gives to princes the manners of
the lowest of their inferiors ; has never been sufficiently
noticed. In the instance before us, how is the poet
embarrassed, when he describes Dido as exercising regal
authority, and at the same time employed in the mean-
est of domestic offices ! and iEneas, a person of royal
descent, as a clown, a commander, and a common
sailor! In the other kind of burlesque, viz, where the
characters are elevatedy no such difficulty interposes :
grant but to Don Quixote and Sancho, — to Hudibras
and Ralpho, — the stations which Cervantes, and But-
ler, have respectively assigned them; and all their
actions are consistent with their several characters.

Soon after, he engaged in a more commendable emr
ployment ; a translation of the JJistort/ of the Life of
the Duke d'Espernon — from 1598, where D'Avihi's
history ends, to 1642 — in twelve books : in which un-
dertaking, he was interrupted by an appointment to
some place or post, which he hints at in the Preface^
but did not hold long ; as also by a sickness that delay-
ed the publication until 1670, when the book came out
in a folio volume, with a handsome Dedication to Dr.
Gilbert Sheldon, archbishop of Canterbury.

In the same year, being the fortieth of his age,— and,
having been honoured with a captain's commission, in
the army, — he was drawn by some occasion, of business
or interest, to visit Ireland: which event he has re-
corded, with some particular circumstances touching
the course of his life, in a burlesque poem, called A
Voyage to Ireland; carelessly written^ but abounding

LIFE OF COTTON. S53

in humorous description, as will appear by the follow-
ing extract therefrom :

A guide I had got ; who demanded great vails,
For conducting me over the mountains of Wales,
Twenty good shillings, -which sure very large is :
Yet that would not ser?e, but I must bear his charges :
And yet, for all that, rode astride on a beast
The worst that e'er went on three legs, I protest;
It certainly was the most ugly of jades, —
His hips and his rump made a right ace of spades ;
His sides were two ladders, well spur-gall'd withal.
His neck was a helve, and his head was a mall:
For his colour, — my pains, and your trouble, I'll spare ;
For the creature was wholly denuded of hair,
And, except for two things, as bare as my nail,
A tuft of a mane and a sprig of a tail.
Now, such as the beast was ; even such was the rider,—
With a head like a nutmeg, and legs like a spider:
A voice like a cricket, a look like a rat;
The brains of a goose, and the heart of a cat.
Even such was mjy guide, and his beast: let them pais.
The one for an horse, and the other an ass.

In this poem, he relates, with singular pleasantry,
that, at Chester, coming out of church, he was taken
notice of by the Major of the City, for his rich garb,
and particularly a gold belt that he then wore ; and,
by him invited home to supper, and very hospitably
entertained.

In the same year — and also the year after, more cor-
rectly— he published a translation of the tragedy, enti-
tled, Les Horaces^ i. e, the Boratii, from the French
of Pierre Corneille ; and in 1674, the Fair one of Tunis,
a novel, translated also from the French, as also a
translation of the Commentaries of Blaise de Montluc,
marshal of France, a thrasonical gascon (as lord Her-
bert has shewn, in his Histori/ of Hen. VIII.) far bet-
ter skilled in the arts of flight than of battle.

In 1675, Mr. Cotton published two little books;
Th$ Planter'' s Manual^ being instructions for cuUivat'

35 1 LIFE OP COTTON.

ing all sorts of fruit-trees y%\o,\ and a Burlesque of
sundry select Dialogues of Lucian, -with the title ot Bur-
lesque upon Burlesque, or the Scoffer scoff ed^ 12mo.
which has much the same merit as the Virgil tr^a-
xestie.

. Angling having been, the favourite recreation of Mr.
Cotton, for many years before this, — we cannot but sup-
pose, that the publication of such a book as the Coni'
plete Angler of Mr. AYalton had attracted his notice,
and probably excited in him a desire to become ac-
quainted with the author ; and that, setting aside other
circumstances, the advantageous situation of Mr. Cot*
ton, near the finest Trout-river in the kingdom, might
conduce to beget a great intimacy between them. For
certain it is, that by the year 1676 they were united by
the closest ties of friendship : Walton, as also liis son.^
Iiad been frequent visitants to Mr. Cotton, at Beresford ;
who foif the accommodation of the former, no less than
of himself, had erected a fishing-house on the bank of
the river, with a stone in the front thereof, containing a
cypher that incorporated the initials of both their
names.

These circumstances, together with a formal adoption,
by Walton, of Mr. Cotton for his sou, that will be ex-
plained in its place*, were doubtless the inducements
with the latter — to the writing of a Second Part of the
Complete Angler, and, therein, to explain more fully
the art of fishing either with a natural or an arti-
ficial fly, as also the various methods of making the
I. ATTER . The Book, as the author assures us, was writ-
ten in the short space of ten days : and first came
abroad, with the fifth edition of the First Part, in the
above year 1676; and ever since, the two parts have
been considered as one book.

The Second Part of the Complete Angler is, appa-
rently, an imitation of the First. It is a course of dia-
logues ; between the Author, shadowed under the name

* Vi% in a Note on a passage in the first Chapter in this Socond Part
©f the ComplsU Angler,

LIFE OF COTTON. 555

of Piscator, — and a Traveller, the very person distin-
guished in the First Part by the name of Venator, and
whom Walton of an Hunter had made an Angler * :
in which — besides the instructions tliere given, and the
beautiful scenery of a wild and rx)mantic country there-
in displayed — the urbanity, courtesy, and hospitality
of a well-bred country gentleman, are represented to
great advantage. *

This book might be tliought to contain a delineation
of the author's character; and, dispose the reader to
think that he was delischted with his situation, content
with his fortunes, and in short one of the happiest of
men : But his next publication speaks a very different
language : for — living in a country that, abound?,
above all others in this kingdom, in rocks caverns and
subterraneous passages; objects that, to some minds,
afford more delight than stately woods and fcF-
tile plains, rich inclosures, and other, the milder,
beauties of rural nature — he seems to have been
prompted, by no other than a sullen curiosity,
to explore the secrets of that nether world ; and, sur-
veyiug it rather with wonder than philosophical de-
light, to have given way, to his disgust, in a de»
scription, of the dreary and terrific scenes around and
beneath him, in a poem (written, as it is said, in
emulation of Hobbes's iJe mirabilihus Pecci) entitled
The wonders of the Peak, This he, first, published
in 1681 ; and, afterwards, with a new edition of the
Virgil travestie and tlie Burlesque of Lucian,

I'he only praise of this poem, is — the truth of the
representations therein contained ; for it is a mean
composition, inharmonious in the versification, and
abounding in expletives. Of the spirit in which it is
written, a judgment may be formed from the following
lines, part of the exordium ••

Durst I expostulate with Providence,—
I then should ask : Whereia the tnnocence

♦ Vide Part IL Chap, I. p. ssr

356 tlPE OF COTTblf.

Of my poor utideiigning infancy,
Could Heav'n offend to such a black degree,
As for th' offence to damn me to a place
Where nature only suffers, in disgrace.

and tliese other equally splenetic :

EnvironM round with nature's shames and ills,

Black heaths, wild rocks, black crags, and naked hills.

So far was Mr. Cotton from tliiiiking with the Psalmist,
*' that his lot was fallen in a fair ground, or that he
** had a goodlj heritage."

But a greater — and, to the world, a more beneficial —
employment at this time solicited his attention. The
old translation of Montaigne's Essays, by the " reso-
lute" John Florio, as he styled himself, was become
obsolete ; and the world were impatient for a new one.
Mr. Cotton not only understood French with a critical
exactness, but was well acquainted with the almost bar-
barous dialect in which that book is written : and the
freedom of opinion, and general notions, of men and
things, which the author discovers, perhaps falling-in
with Mr. Cotton's sentiments of human life and man-
ners,— he undertook, and in 1685 gave to the world,
in a translation of that author in three volumes 8vo.
one of the most valuable books in the English lan-
guage ; in short, a translation that, if it does not (and
many think it does, in some respects, transcend, is
yet nothing inferior to, the original. And, indeed,
little less than this is to be inferred, from the testimony
of the noble Marquis to whom it is dedicated : who
concludes a letter of his to Mr. Cotton, with this ele-
gant encomium : " Pray believe, that he who can
" translate such an author, without doing him wrong,
*' must not only make me glad, but proud of being
*' his very humble servant, Halifax."

These are the whole of Mr. Cotton's writings pub-
lished in his life-time. Those that came abroad aftef
his decease, were : Poems on several Occasions^ 8vo.

LIFE OF COTTOir. SSf

1689, a bookseller's publication, tumbled into the
world without preface, apology, or even correction^
that will be spoken of hereafter ; and a Translation,
from the French of the Memoirs of the Sieur de Pon»
*/*,— published, in 1694, by his son, Mr. Beresford
Cotton, and by him dedicated to the then Duke of
Ormond, as having been undertaken, and completed,
at the request of the old Duke, his grace's grand-
father.

It is, too much, to be feared,— 'that the difficulties he
laboured under, and in short the straitness of his cir-
cumstances, were the reasons that induced Mr. Cot-
ton to employ himself in writing ; and, in that, so
much more in translation than original composition.
For, first — by the way— they are greatly mistaken,
who think that the business of writing for booksellers
is a new occupation ; it is known, that Greene, Pea-
cham, and Howel, for a great part of their lives, sub-
sisted almost wholly by it : though perhaps Mr. Cot-
ton is the first instance, of a gentleman by descent,
and, the inheritor of a fair estate, being reduced by a
sad necessity to write for subsistence. But, secondly —
whether through misfortune, or the want of ceconomy,
or both— it may be collected from numberless passages
in his writings, that Mr. Cotton's circumstances were
narrow ; his estates incumbered with mortgages ; and
his income less than sufficient for his maintenance in
the port and character of a gentleman : why, else,
those querulous exclamations — against the clamours of
creditors, the high rate of interest, and the extortions
of usurers, that so frequently occur in his poems ?
From which several particulars, it seems a natural, and
at the same time a melancholy inference, that he was; —
not to say an author — a translator, probably, for hire ;
but, certainly, by profession.

It is of all employments, one of the most painful, —
to enumerate the misfortunes and sufferings of worthy
and deserving men ; and, most so, of such as have
been distinguished for either their natural or acquired
endowments : but truth, and the laws of biographic
bistory, oblige all that undertake that kind of writing,

353 LIFE OF COTtOWd

to relate as "well the adverse, as the prosperous, events
in the lives of those -svhOra they mean to celebrate ; else,
we would gladly omit to say, that Mr. Cotton Avas dur-
ing the whole of his life, involved in difficulties.
Lord Clarendon says, of his father, — that " Ire was en-
*' gaged in law-suits, and had wasted his fortune:" and
it cannot be supposed but that his son inherited^ in
some degree^ the vexation and expense of uncertain
litigation, together with the paternal estate; and
might, finally, be divested of great part of it : farther
we may suppose, that the easiness of his nature, and a
disposition to oblige others amounting even to imbe-»
cility, laid him open to the arts of designing men, and
gave occasion to those complaints of ingratitude and
neglect which we meet with in his eclogues, odes, and
other of his writings.

It is true, that he was never reduced by necessity to
alienate the family estate : nor were his distresses, uni-
formly, extreme ; but they were at times severely pun-
gent,-^it is said, that the numerous pecuniary engage-
ments into which he had entered, drew upon Iiim the
misfortune of personal restraint ; and that during his
confinement in one of the city prisons, he inscribed,
on the wall of his apartment therein, these affecting
lines:

A prison is a place of cure.

Wherein no one can thrive ;
A touchstone sure, to trj a friend ;

A grave, for men alive.

And to aggravate these his afflictions, — he had a wif«
whom he appears to have tenderly loved, and of
whom, in an ironical poem, entitled the Joys of
Marriage^ he speaks thus handsomely :

Yet "With me ^tis out of season.
To complain thus without reason,—
Since the best and sweetest fair
Is allotted to my share :
But alas I I love her so.
That my love creates my woe j

LIFE OP COTTON. S59

For if she be out of humour, —
Straight, displeas'd I do presume her,
And would give the world to know
What it is offends her so ;
Or if she be discontented.
Lord, how am I then tormented !
And am ready to persuade her.
That I have unhappy made her;
But, if sick, — then I am dying.
Meat and med'cine both defying.

This lady, the delight of his heart, and the partner of
his sorrows, he had the misfortune to lose : but at what
period of his life is not certain.

We MIGHT flatter ourselves, that his sun set brighter
than it rose ; for his second marriage — which was with
the Countess Dowager of Ardglass, who possessed a
jointure of fifteen hundred a year, and survived him
— might suggest a hope, that he might have been,
thereby, enabled to extricate himself out of the great-
est of his difficulties, and in reality to enjoy that
tranquillity of mind which he describes with so much
feeling in the Stanzes Irreguliers : — But this supposi-
tion seems to be contradicted by a fact, which the
act of administration, of his effects upon his decease,
discloses, viz. that the same was granted " to Eliza-
*' beth Bind worth, his principal creditrix; the ho-
*' nourable Mary Countess Dowager of Ardglass, his
** widow, Beresford Cotton, Esq., Olive Cotton, Ca-
'^ therine Cotton, Jane Cotton, and Mary Cotton, his
'^ natural and lawful children, first renouncing."

The above act bearing date tlie I2tli day of Sep-
tember, 1687, fixes, perhaps, within a few days, the
day of his death : and describes him as having lived
in the parish of St. James, Westminster : it also as-
certains his issue, which were ail by his first lady.

There is a tradition current in his neighbourhood.
That he had, by some sarcastic expression in his writ-
ings, so offended an aunt of his, that she revoked a
clause in her will, whereby she had bequeathed to him
an estate of five hundred pounds a year : but as two

560 LIF« OF C0TT05T,

unlikely circumstances must concur to render such a
report credible, great imprudence in himself, and want
of charity in her ; and there is no such ofi'ensive pas-
sage to be found in any of his writings ; we may pre-
sume the tradition to be groundless.

Of the future fortunes of his descendants little is
known,— save that, to his son Beresford Cotton, was
given a company in a regiment of foot, raised, by the
Earl of Derby, for the service of King William ; and
that one of his daughters became the wife of that emi-
nent divine Dr. George Stanhope, dean cf Canterbury,
who — from his name, the same with that of Mr. Cot-
ton's mother — is conjectured to have been distantly al-
lied to the family.

The above are the most remarkable particulars, that
at this time are recoverable, of the life of Mr. Cotton.
His moral character is to be collected, and indeed does
naturally arise, out of the several sentiments contained
in his writings ; more especially, those in the Collection
of his Poems above-mentioned : Which, consisting of all
such Verses of his as the publishers could get together ;
as namely. Eclogues, Odes, and Epistles to his friends,
and Translations from Ausonius, Catullus, Martial,
Mons. Maynard, Corneille, Benserade, Guarini, and
others ; if pursued with a severe and indiscriminating
eye may, perhaps, be thought to reflect no great credit
on his memory, — for many of them are so inexcusably
licentious as to induce a suspicion, that the author was
but too well practised in the vices of the town : and
yet it may be said of the book, that it contains the only
good POEMS he ever wrote.

It is true, that for the looseness of his writings, and
if we may judge by them, of his manners, — he deserves
censure : but, at the same time, it is to be noted, that he
was a warm and steady friend^ and a lover of such as
he thought more worthy than himself ; of which last
quality, his attachment to Mr. Walton affords the
clearest proof.

Nor did it derogate from the character of honest old
Isaac, — to contract and cherish an intimacy with one,
yvhQ being of the cavalier party, might have somewhat

iilFE OF COTTON. 361

of the gallant^ not to say the rake in him, and be guilty
of some of those practices which it was the employment
of Isaac's life and writings to discountenance. Mr.
Cotton was, both, a wit and a scholar ; of an open,
chearful and hospitable temper, endowed with fine ta-
lents for conversation, and the courtesy and affability
of a gentleman : and was withal as great a proficient
in the art, ns a lover of the recreation, of angling:—
these qualities, together with the profound reverence
which he uniformly entertained for his father Walton,
could not but endear him to the good old man ; whose
cliaritable practice it was, to resolve all the deviations
from that rule of conduct which he had prescribed him-
self— not into vicious inclination but, error.

But notwithstanding this creditable connexion, and
the qualities above ascribed to him,— Mr. Cotton's mo-
ral character must appear very ambiguous to any one,
that shall reflect on the subjects by him chosen for the
exercise of his poetical talent : a burlesque of an epic
poem ; a version of the most licentious of Lucian's
dialogues ; and a ludicrous delineation of some of the
most stupendous works of nature : in all which, we
meet with such foul imagery, such obscene allusions,
such offensive descriptions, such odious comparisons,
such coarse sentiment, and such filthy expression, as
could only proceed from a polluted imagination, and
[as] tend to excite loathing and contempt.

On the other hand, there are— in his Poems on sevc"
ral occasions — Verses, to ladies in particular, of so
courtly and elegant a turn, that, bating their incorrect-
ness, they might vie with many of Waller and
Cowley ; — others there are, that bespeak him to have
had a just sense of honour, loyalty, and moral rec-
titude; as do these that follow, penned by him
with a view to preserve the memory of a deceased
friend*.

Virtue— in those good times, that bred good men — -
No testimony crav'd, of tongue or pen ;

* On a monument of Robert Port, Esq. ; in the church of Ham, in
the County of Stafford.

X 2

362 LIFE OF COTTON.

No marble columns, nor engraven brass,

To tell the world that such a person was;

For then each pious act^ to fair descent,

Stood for the 'worthy owner's monument :

But in this change of manners and of states,

Good names, though writ in marble, have their fates ;

Such is the barb'rous, and irrev'rent, rage

That arms the rabble *f this impious age.

Yet may this happy stone — that bears a name
Such as no bold survivor dares to claim —
To ages yet unborn, unblemish'd, stand,
Safe from the stroke of an inhuman hand.
Here, reader ! here a PorVs sad relics lie.
To teach the careless world mortality ;
Who, while he mortal was, unrivall'd stood.
The crown and glory of his ancient blood ;
Fit for his prince's and his country's trust;
Pious to God, and to his neighbour just;
A loyal husband, to his latest end ;
A gracious father ; and a faithful friend :
lielov'd he liv'd, and died o'ercharged with years.
Fuller of honour than of silver, hairs.
And, to sum up his virtues, this was he
Who was — what all we should, but cannot be.

To this it may be added, that in sundry parts of his
writings, and even in his poems, the evidences of pieti/
in the author are discernible : among them is a para-
phrase on that noble and sublime hymn, the eighth
psalm. And in the polpm entitled Stanzes irreguliers,
are the following lines :

Dear solitude ; the soul's best friend ;
That man, acquainted with himself, dost make, —
And all his Maker's wonders, to intend ;
With thee I here converse at will.
And would be glad to do so still.
For it is thou, alone, that keep'st the soul awake.

And lastly, in the following book, he, in the person
of Piscator, thus utters his own sentiment of a practice
which few— that love fishing, and have not a sense of

LIFE OF COTTON, 363

decorum, not to say of religion — would in these days
of licence forbear : " A worm is so sure a bait at all
*' times that, excepting in a flood, I would I had laid
^' [me] a thousand pounds that I did not kill fish,
^' more or less, with it — winter, or summer — every day
*' in the year; those days always excepted, that upon
^^ a more serious account always ought so to &e*;"
from whence it is but just to infer, that the delight he
took in fishing was never a temptation with him to
profane the sabbath.

The inconsistencies above pointed out, we leave the
perusers of his various writings to reconcile ; with this
remark. That he must have possessed a mind well
stored with ideas, and habituated to reflection, who
could write such verses as immediately follow this ac-
count; and, in many respects, have been an amiable
man, whom Walton could choose for his friend, and
adopt for his son*

J.H.

CONTENTATION,

Directed to my dear Father and most worthy Friend^
Mr. Isaac Walton.

I.

Heaven, -what an age is this ! what race

Of giants is sprung up, that dare
Thus flj i 1 the Almighty's face,

And with his providence make war !

II.

I can go no -where but I meet

With malecontcnts and mutineers ;
As if, in life, was nothing sweet.

And we must blessings reap in tears*

♦ Chap. XI.
X 3

364 LIFE OF COTTON.

III.
0 senseless man ! that murmurs still

For happiness ; and does not know.
Even though he might enjoy his will,

What he would have to make him so>

IV.

Is it true happiness to be,

By undiscerning fortune, plac'd

In the most eminent degree.

Where few arrive, and none stand fast ?

V.

Titles and wealth, are fortune's toils
Wherewith the vain themselves ensnare;

The great, are proud of borrow'd spoils;
The miser's plenty, breeds his care ; —

VI.

The one, supinely, yawns to rest;

Th' other, eternally, doth toil ;—
Each of them, equally, a beast;

A pamper'd horse, or laboring moil.

VII.

The tUulado's oft disgrac'd,

By publick hate, or private frown ;

And he whose hand the creature raised,
Has yet a foot to kick him down.

VIII.

The drudge who would all get, all save.
Like a brute beast both feeds and lies $

Prone to the earth, he digs his grave,
And in the very labour dies :

IX.

Excess of ill-got, ill-kept pelf,

Does only death and danger breed ;

Whilst one rich worldling starves himself.
With what would thousand others feed.

LIFE OF COTTON. 36!)

X.

By which, we see that wealth and pow^r.
Although they make men rich and great,

The sweets of life do often sour,
And gull ambition with a cheat.

XI.

Nor is he — happier than those —

Who, in a moderate estate
Where he might safely live at ease,

Has lusts that are immoderate $

XII.

For he, by those desires misled.

Quits his own vine's securing shade,
T* expose his naked empty head

To ail the storms man's peace invade.

XIII.

Nor is he happy, who is trim

Trickt up in ^favours of the fair, —
Mirrors, which ev'ry breath may dim,—

Birds caught in ev'ry wanton snare.

XIV.
Woman, man's greatest woe or bliss,

Does ofter far, than serve, enslave ;
And, with the magic of a kiss.

Destroys— whom she was made to save.

XV.

Oh fruitful grief! the world's disease;

And vainer, man,— to make it so,
Who gives his miseries increase.

By cultivating his own woe.

XVI.

There are no ills but what we make— •

Bj giving shapes, and names, to things t
Which is the dangerous mistake

That causes all our sufferings :

X i

S66 LIFE OF C0TTOIT.

XVII.

We call that sickness -which is health }
That persecution, which is grace;

That poverty, which is true wealth ;
And that dishonour, which is praise.

XVIII.

ProTidence watches over all,
And that with an impartial eye j

And if to misery we fall,

'Tis through our own infirmity.

•iix.

^Tifl want of foresight, makes the bold
Ambitious youth, to danger clirabf

And want of virtue, when the old
At persecution do repine.

XX.

Alaa ! our time is, here, so short.

That in what state soe'er, 'tis spent—

Of joy, or woe — does not import.
Provided it be innocent:

XXI.

But we may make it pleasant too ;

If we will take our measures right,-—
And not what heav'n has done undo,

By an unruly appetite.

XXII.

^is contentation that, alone,

Can make us happy here below;

An4, when this little life is gone.
Will lift us up to heav'n too.

XXIII.

A rery little satisfies

An honest and a grateful heart ;
And who would, more than will suffice,

Does covet more than is his part.

LIFE OF COTTON. SOT

XXIV.

That man is happy, in his share,

Who is warm dad, and cleanly fed ;

Whose necessaries bound his care,
And, honest labour makes his bed ;

XXV.

Who, free from debt and clear from crimes,
Honours those laws that others fear ;

Who ill, of princes, in worst times.
Will neither speak himself, nor hear;

XXVL

Who from the busy world retires

To be more useful to it still ;
And to no greater good aspires.

But only the eschewing ill ;

XXVII.
Who, with his angle and big books.

Can think the longest day well spent, —
And praises God, when back he looks

And finds that all was innocent.

XXVIII.
This man is happier far than he.

Whom public business oft betrays,
Through labyrinths of policy

To crooked and forbidden ways.

XXIX.

/
The world is full of beaten roads.

But yet so slippery withal, —
That where one walks secure, 'tis odds

A hundred and a hundred fall.

XXX.

Untrodden paths are then the best.
When the frequented are unsure ;

And he comes soonest to his rest
Whose journey has been most.secure.

368 LIFE OF COTTON.

XXXI.

It is content, alone, that makes
Our pilgrimage a pleasure here.

And who bujs sorrow cheapest, takes
An ill commodity too dear.

XXXII.

But he has fortune's worst withstood ;

And happiness can never miss, — [Who]
Can covet nought but where he stood ;

And thinks him happy where he is.

■TO MY MOST WORTHY

FATHER* AND FRIEND,

Mr. IZAAK WALTON,

THE ELDER.
SIR,

BEING you were pleased, some years past,
to grant me your free leave to do what I have
here attempted 3 and observing you never re-
tract any promise, when made in favour even of
your meanest friends 3 I accordingly expect to
see these following Particular Directions for the
taking of a Trouty to wait upon your better and
more general Rules for all sorts of Angling.
And, though mine be neither so perfect, so well
digested, nor indeed so handsomely coucht,
as they might have been, in so long a time as
since your leave was granted, yet I dare affirm
them to be generally true: and they had ap-
peared too in something a neater dress, but
that I was surprized with the sudden news of
a sudden new edition of your Complete Angler;
so that, having but a little more than ten days*

♦ The reader will sec the reason why Cotton calls Walton his
father, in a subsequent note, page 380.

370 THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY.

time to turn me in, and rub up my memory—
for, in truth, I have not, in all this long time;
though I have often thought on*t, and almost as
often resolved to go presently about it — I was
forced, upon the instant, to scribble what I here
present you : which I have also endeavoured to
accommodate to your own method. And, if
mine be clear enough for the honest brothers of
the angle readily to understand, which is the
only thing I aim at, then I have my end, and
shall need to make no further apology; a
writing of this kind not requiring, if I were
master of any such thing, any eloquence to set
it off, or recommend it: so that if you, in your
better judgment, or kindness rather, can allow it
passable, for a thing of this nature, — you will

then do me the honour if the cypher

fixed and carved in the front of my little fishing
house, may be here explained ; and to permit
me to attend you in publick, who, in private,
have ever been, am, and ever resolve to be,

SIR,
Your most affectionate Son^

And Servant,
CHARLES COTTON.

Berisford, 10th
of March, 1675-6.

TO

My most HONOURED Friend,

CHARLES COTTON, Esq.

SIN,

YOU now see I have returned you your xery plea^
sant and useful Discourse of The Art of Fly-fishing,
printed just as it was sent me; for I have been so
obedient to your desires, as to endure all the praises
you have ventured to fix upon me in it. And when
I have thanked you for them, as the effects of an
undissembled love; then, let me tell you, Sir, that
I will really endeavour to live up to the character
you have given of me, if there were no other reason,
yet for this alone, that you, that love me so well,
and always think what yoit speak, may not, for my
sake, suffer by a mistake in your judgment,

And, Sir, I have ventured to Jill a part of your
margin, by way of paraphrase, for the reader^s
clearer understanding the situation both of your
fishing house, and the pleasantness of that you dwell
in. And I have ventured also to give him a Copy
of Verses— Ma^ you were pleased to send me, now,
some years past'-'in which, he may see a good picture
of both ; and so much of your own mind too, as will
make any reader, that is blest with a generous soul.

372 Walton's letter to cotton.

*

to love you the better. I confess^ that for doing
this you may justly judge me too hold: if you do^
I will say so too ; and so far commute for my offence
that) though I be more than a hundred miles from
yoUf and in the eighty-third year of my age, yet
I will forget both^ and next month begin a pilgri-
mage to beg your pardon; for I would die in your
favour, and till then will live,

SIR,
Your most affectionate

Father and Friend,

London,
April 29, 1676.

IZAACK WALTOK

1 v:

THE

STANZES IRREGULIERS,

TO

MR. IZAAK WALTON.

FAREWELL, thou busy world ! and may
We never meet agaio :
Here, I can eat and sleep ; and pray ;
And do more good in one short day.
Than he who his whole age out-wearg
Upon the most conspicuous theatres,
Where aought but vanity and vice appears.

n.

Good God ! how sweet are all things here I
How beautiful the fields appear !
How cleanly do we feed and lie !
Lord ! what good hours do we keep I

How quietly we sleep !
What peace ! what unanimity !
How innocent from the lewd fashion
Is all our business, all our recreation !
Oh, how happy here's our leisure !
Oh, how iDDOcent, our pleasure I

374 STANZES IRREGULIERS.

Oh, yevallies, Oh, ye mountains !
Oh, ye groves, and chrystal fountains !

How I love, at liberty,
By turns to come and visit ye !

17.

Dear solitude ! the soul's best friend ;
That man, acquainted with himself, dost make, — ^-
And all his Maker's wonder, to intend ;
With thee I here converse at will,
And would be glad to do so still,
For it is thou, alone, that keep'st the soul awake.

V.

How calm and quiet a delight .

Is it, — alone,

ft
To read, and meditate, and write.

By nojie offended, and offending none ?

To walk, ride, sit, or sleep at one's own ease !

And, pleasing a man's self, none other to displease.

VI.

Oh my beloved nymph, fair Dove !
Princess of rivers ! how I love

Upon thy flow'ry banks to lie ;
And view thy silver stream, —
When gilded by a summer's beam, —

And in it, all thy wanton fry.
Playing at liberty;
And, with my angle, upon them
The all of treachery

I ever learnt, industriously to try.

VII.

Such streams Rome's yellow Tyher cannot show;
The Iberian Tagus, or Ligurian Po :
The MaesCf the Danube, and the Rhine,
Are puddle-water, all, compar'd with thine:
And Loire^s pure streams, yet, too polluted are
With thine much purer, to compare :

1

STANZES IRREGULIERS. 375

The rapid Garonne^ and the winding: Seine^
Are both too mean,
Beloved Dove ! with thee
To vie priority :
?iay, Tame and Isis^ when conjoin'd, submit,
And Jay their trophies at thy «ilver feet.

VIII.

,Oh my beloved rocks ! that rise

To awe the earth and brave the skies. —

From some aspiring mountain's crown,
How dearly do I love,

^iddy with pleasure to look down:

— And, from the vales, to view the heights above I

lOh my beloved oaves ! from dog-star's heat,

And all anxieties, my safe retreat :

What safety, privacy, what true delight-
In the artificial night.
Your gloomy entrails make-
Have I taken, do I take I

How oft when grief has made me fly.

To hide me, from society

Ev'n of my dearest friends, — have I,
In your recesses' friendly shade.
Ail my sorrows open laid,

Aad my most secret woes intrusted to your privacy !

IX.

Lord ! would men let me alone,
What an over-happy one

Should I think myself to be,—
Might I, in this desert place
Which most men in discourse disgrace.

Live but undisturb'd and free I i

Here in this despis'd recess.

Would I, maugre winter's cold.
And the summer's worst excess.
Try to live-out to sixty full years old* j

* This he did not ; for he was born 1630, and died in 1687. See the
Aeeount of kit life prefixed,

X

S76 STANZES IRREGULIERS.

And all the ivhile
Without an envious eye.
On any thriving under fortune's smile.
Contented live: and, then, contented die.

c. a

THE

COMFILETJE AMC^ILEJR;

OR, THE

CONTEMPLATIVE MAN'$ RECREATION.

PART II.

CHAPTER L

Conf'-rencehetwten a Country-gentleman proficient
in Fr.Y-FisHiNG and a Traveller who becomes his
pupil *.

PISCATOR-JUNIOR, and VIATOR.

PiSCATOR-J.

YOU are happily overtaken, Sir: may a man be so
bold as to enquire, how far you travel this way ?

Viator, Yes sure. Sir, very freely ; though it be a
question I cannot very well resolve you, as not knowing*
myself how far it is to Ashborn, where I intend to-night
to take up my inn.

Pise* Why then, Sir, seeing I perceive you to be

* The Contents to the Chapters of this Second Part, are now first
added bj the Editor of the seventh edition ; who has also seen it proper
to supply the word " Junior" after " Piscator," the first-time that designa-
tion of Cotton occurs in each of the following chapters. The time at
which theie dialogues are supposed to take place, is the beginning of Marc^

y 2

378 THE COMPLETE ANGLER, PART II.

a stranger in these parts, I sliall take upon me to in-
form you, that from the town you hist came through,
called Brelsford *, it is five miles: and you are not, yet,
above half a mile on this side.

Viat, So much ! I was told it was but ten miles
from Derby ; and, methinks, I have rode almost so far
already.

Pise. O, Sir, find no fault with large measure of
good land; which Derbyshire abounds in, as much as
most counties of England.

Viot. It may be so; and. good land, I confess,
affords a pleasant prospect: but by your good leave,
Sir, large measure of foul way is not altogether so ac»
ceptable.

Pise, True, Sir, but the foul way serves to justify
the fertility of the soil, according to the proverb,
'* There is good land where there is foul way:" and
is of good use, to inform you of the riches of the country
you are come into, and of its continual travel and
traffick to (he country-town you came from : which is
also very observable by the fulness of its road, and the
loaden horses you meet every-where upon the way.

Viat, Well, Sir! I will be content to think as well
of your country as you would desire. And I shall
have a great deal of reason both to think, and to speak,
very well of you, — -if I may obtain the happiness of
your company to the fore-mentioned place, provided
your affairs lead you that way, and that they wll per-
mit you to slack your pace, out of complacency to a
traveller utterly a stranger in these parts, and who am
still to wander further out of my own knowledge.

Pise, Sir, you invite me to my own advantage.
And I am ready to attend you, my way lying through
that town ; but my business, that is my home, some
miles beyond it : however, 1 shall have time enough
to lodge you in your quarters, and afterwards to per-*
form my own journey. In the mean time, may I be so
bold as to enquire the end of your journey ?

Viat. 'Tis into Lancashire, Sir, and about some
business of concern to a near relation of mine : for I

• Brales'"ord. Spdman's ^»V/arA

i

tHAP, I. THE COMPLETE ANGLER* 379

assure you, I do not use to take so long journies as
from Essex, upon the single account of pleasure.

Pise, Prom thence. Sir! — I do not then wonder
you should appear dissatisfied with the length of the
miles, and the foulness of the way : though I am sorry
you should begin to quarrel with them so soon ; for be-
lieve me, Sir, you will find the miles much longer,
and the way much worse, before you come to your
journey's end.

Viat. Why ! truly, Sir ! for that, I am prepared
to expect the worst ; but methinks the way is mended,
since I had the good fortune to fall into your good
company.

l^isc. You are not obliged, to my company, for
(hat, — but, because you are already past the worst,
and the greatest, part of your way to your lodging.

Viat, I am very glad to hear it, both for the ease
of myself and my horse; but, especially, because I
may then expect a freer enjoyment of your con-
versation : though the shortness of the way will, I
fear, make me lose it the sooner.

Pise, That, Sir, is not worth your care; and I
am sure you deserve much better, for being content
with so ill, company. But we have already talked
away two miles of your journey ; for, from the brook
before us, that runs at the foot of this sandy hill, you
Lave but three miles to Ashborn.

Viat, I meet every-where in this country, with
these little brooks ; and they look as if they were full
offish : Have they not Trouts in them ?

Pise, That is a question which is to be excused in
a stranger, as you are : otherwise, give me leave to
tell you, it would seem a kind of affront to our
country, to make a doubt of what we pretend to be
famous for, next [to,] if not before, our malt, wool,
lead, and coal ; for you are to understand, that we
think we have as many fine rivers, rivulets and brooks,
as any country whatever; and they are all full of
Trouts, and some of them the best, (it is said,) by
many degrees, in England.

Viat. I was first, Sir, in love with you; and now
fhall be so enamoured of your country, by this ac-

Y 3

S80 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. FART If/

count you give me of it, as to wish rayself a Derbyshire
man, or at least that I might live in it : for you must
know I am a pretender to the angle ; and, doubtless, a
Trout affords the most pleasure to the angler of any
sort of fish whatever ; and the best Trouts must needs
make the best sport : but this brook, and some others I
have met with upon this way, are too full of wood for
that recreation.

Pise, This, Sir ! — why this, and several others
like it, which you have past ; and some, that you are
like to pass ; have scarce any name amongst us : but
"we can shew you as fine rivers, and as clear from
wood, or any other incumbrance to hinder an angler,
as any you ever saw; and for clear beautiful streams,
Hantshire itself , by Mr. Isaac Walton's good leave, can
shew none such ; nor I think any country in Europe.

Viat, You go far, Sir, in the praise of your
country rivers, and I perceive, have read Mr. Wal*
ton's Complete Angler ^ by your naming of Hantshire ;
and I pray what is your opinion of that book ?

Pise. My opinion of Mr. Walton's book, is the
same with every man's that understands any thing of
the art of angling, — that it is an excellent good one;
and that the fore-mentioned gentleman understands as
much of fish, and fishing, as any man living. But I
must tell you, further, that I have the happiness to
know his person, and to be intimately acquainted with
him ; and in him to know the worthiest man, and to
enjoy the best, and the truest friend any man ever had :
nay,' I shall yet acquaint you further, that he gives me
leave to call him Father, and I hope is not yet ashamed
to own me for his Adopted Son *.

* It was a practice with the pretended masters of the Hermetic
jclence, to adopt favourite persons for their sons, to whom they imparted
iheir secrets. Ashmole, in his Diary^ p. 25. says, " Mr. Backhouse
** told me, I must now needs be his son, because he had communicated
*' so many secrets to me." And a little after, p. 27. " My father Back-
" house, lying sick in Fleet street, told me, in syllables, the true matter
" of the philosopher's stone, which he bequeathed to me as a legacy.'.'
See more of this practice, and, of the tremendous solemnities with which
the secret was communicated, in Ashmole's Theat. Cbem. Brit. p. 440.

And, in imitation of this practice, Ben Jonson adopted several per*
.<on« his sons, to the number of twelve or fourteen ; among whom were,
Cartwright, Randolph, and Alexander Bromq, And it should seem, by

tHAP. I. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 281

Viat. In earnest, Sir, I am ravished to meet with a
friend of Mr. Isaac Walton's, and one that does him so
much right in so good and true a character : for I must
boast to you, — that I have the good fortune to know
him too, and came acquainted with him much after the
same manner 1 do with you, — that he was my master,
who first taught mt lo love Angling, and then to be-
come an Angler ; and, to be plain with you, I am the
very man deciphered in his book under the name of Fe-
nator ; for I was wholly addicted to the Chace, till he
taught me as good— a more quiet, innocent, and less
dangerous diversion.

Pise. Sir, I think myself happy in your acquaint-
ance ; and before we part, shall entreat leave to embrace
you : You have said ejiough to recommend you to my
best opinion : for my father Walton will be seen twice
in no man's company lie does not like, and likes none
but such as he believes to be very houest men, — which
is one of the best arguments, or at least of the best
testimonies I have, that I either am, or that he thinks
me, one of those ; seeing 1 have not yet found him
weary of me.

Viat, You speak like a true friend ; and, in doing
so, render yourself worthy of his friendship. May I
be so bold as to ask your name ?

Pise. Yes surely, Sir ; and, if yeu please, a much

nicer question : My name is , and I intend to

stay long enough in your company, if I find you do
not dislike mine, to ask yours too. In the mean time,
(because we are now almost at Ashborn,) I shall freely
and bluntly tell you, That I am a brother of the angle
too, and, perad venture, can give you some instructions,

How TO ANGLE FOR A TROUT IN A CLEAR RIVEJlj

that my father Walton himself will not disapprove, —
though he did either purposely omit, or did not re-
member them, when you and he sat discoursing under
the sycamore tree *. And ; being you have already

the text, that Walton followed the above-mentioned examples, by adopt-
ing Cotton for his son,
• See Part I. Page 172.

y 4

38ir. THE COMPLETE A!^GLER, PART If/'

told me iwhither your journey is intended, and that I
am better acquainted "with the country than you are ;
I will, heartily and earnestly, entreat you will not
think of staying at this town, but, go on with me six
miles further, to my house, where you shall be ex-
tremely welcome : it is directly in your way ; we have
day enough to perform our journey: and, as yoU like
your entertainment, you may there repose yourself a
day or two, or as many more as your occasions will
permit, to recompense the trouble of so much a longer
journey.

Vial. Sir, you surprise me with so friendly an invi-
tation upon so short acquaintance: — but how advan-
tageous soever it would be to me ; and that my haste,
perhaps, is not so great but it might dis-
* i. e. allow, pensc-witli * such a divertisement as I pro-
mise myself in your company ; yet I can-
not, in modesfT/y accept your offer, and must therefore
beg your pardon : I could otherwise, I confess, be glad
to wait upon you, if upon no other account but to talk
of Mr. Isaac Walton, and to receive those instructions
you say you are able to give me for the deceiving a
Trout ; in which art I will not deny, but that I have
an ambition to beonq of the greatest deceivers : though
I cannot forbear freely to tell you, that I think it hard
to say much more than has been read to me upon
that subject.

Pise. Well, Sir, I grant that, too : But you must
know that the variety of rivers require different way»
of angling: However, you shall have the best rules I
am able to give ; and I will tell you nothing I have
not made myself as certain of, as any man can

BE IN THIRTr YEARS EXPERIENCE; foT SO long I

have been a dabbler in that aft; and that, if you
please to stay a few days, you shall, in a very great
measure, see made good to you. But of that hereafter.
And now. Sir, if I am not mistaken, I have half over-
come you ; and that I may wholly conquer that mo-
desty of yours, I will take upon me to be so familiar
as to say, you must accept my invitation ; whichy
that you may th#more easily be persuaded to do, I will

CHAP. 1. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. ,18^

tell you. That my house stands upon the margin of one
of the finest rivers, for Trouts and Grajling, in Eng-
land; That I have lately built a little fishing-house,
upon it, dedicated to anglers, — over the door of which,
you will see the two first letters of my father Walton's
name and mine twisted in cypher *; That *SettBg Cypher
you shall lie in the same bed he has some- embellished in
times been contented witli, and have such *^' Titu-page.
country entertainment as my friends sometimes ac-
cept ; and be as welcome, too, as the best friend of
them all.

Viat, No doubt. Sir, but my master Walton found
good reason to be satisfied with his entertainment in
your house ; for you who are so friendly to a mere
stranger, who deserves so little, must needs be exceed-
ing kind and free to him who deserves so much —

Pise, Believe me, no : and such as are intimately
acquainted with that gentleman, know him to be a man,
who will not endure to be treated like a stranger. So
that his acceptafion of my poor entertainments, has ever
been a pure effect of his own humility and good-nature,
and nothing else. But, Sir, we are now going down
the Spittle-hill into the town ; and therefore let me im-
portune you — suddenly to resolve, and (most earnestly)
not to deny me,

Viat, In truth. Sir, I am so overcome by your
bounty, that I find I cannot : but must render myself,
wholly, to be disposed of by you.

Pise, Why that's heartily and kindly spoken : and
I as heartily thank you. And, being you have aban-
doned yourself to ray conduct, we will only call
and drink a glass on horseback at the Talbot; and
away.

Viat. I attend you. But what pretty river is this,
that runs under this stone bridge ? has it a name ?

Pise, Yes, it is called Henmore : and has in it
both Trout and Grayling, but you will meet with one
or two better, anon. And so soon as we are past through
the town, I will endeavour, by such discourse as best
Hkes you, to pass away the time till you come to your
ill quarters.

384 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART It.

Viat. We can talk of nothino^ with which I shall be
more delighted than of rivers and anajling.

Pise. Let those be the subjects then.— But we are
now come to the Talbot : What will jou drmk. Sir ?
ale, or wine ?

Viat, Nay, I am for the country liquor, Derbyshire
ale, if you please; for a man should not, methinks,
come from London to drink wine in the Peak.

Pise. You are in the right: and yet let me tell
you, you may drink worse French wine in many ta-
verns in London, than they have sometimes at this
house. What ho ! bring us a flaggon of your best ale.
And now, Sir, my service to you : a good health to the
honest gentleman you know of; and you are welcome
into the Peak. ^

Viat. 1 thank you, Sir ; and present you mt/ ser-*
vice again, and to all the honest brothers of the angle.

Pise. I'll pledge you, Sir. So, there's for your
ale ; and, furewel ! Come, Sir, let us be going ; for
the sun grows low: and I would have you look about
you as you ride ; for you will see an odd country,
and sights that will seem strange to you.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER, SS^

CHAPTER II.

Ati Accomit of the principal Rivers in Derhi/shirr,
Viator lodges at Piscalor^s House,

PISCATOR-JUNIOR.

SO, Sir, now we have got to the top of the hill out
of town, look about you and tell me how you like the
country.

Viat. Bless mei what naountains arc here! are we
not in Wales ?

Pise, No, but in almost as mountainous a coun-
try: and yet these hills, though high, bleak, and
craggy, breed and feed good beef and mutton — above
ground ; and afford good store of lead — within .

Viat, Tlicy had need of all those commodities
to make amends for the ill landskip: but I hope our
way does not lie over any of these ; for I dread a pre-
cipice.

Pise, Believe me, but it docs ; and down one, es-
pecially, that will appear a little terrible to a stranger,
■—though the way is passable enough , and so passable,
that we who arc natives of these mountains, and ac-
quainted with them, disdain to alight.

Viat. I hope, though, that a foreigner is privileged
to use his own discretion ; and that I may have the
liberty to entrust my neck to the fidelity of my own
iQQty rather than to those of my horse, — for I have no
more at home.

Pise, 'Twere hard else. But, in the mean time, I
think 'twere best, while this way is pretty even, to
mend our pace, that we may be past that hill I
speak of; to the end your apprehension may not be
doubled, for want of light to discern the easiness of
the descent.

Vint, I ara willing io put forward as fast as my

386 THE COMPtfttE A^GLEIt. PART It.

beast will give me leave, though I fear nothing in
your company. Bui what pretty river is this we are
goin^ into ?

PisCi Why this^ Sir, is called Bentlj/-hrookj and
is full of very good Trout and Grayling ; but so en-
cumbered with wood in many places, as is troublesome
to an angler.

Viat. Here are the prettiest rivers, and the most of
them, in this country that ever I saw ; do you know
how many you have in the country ?

Pise* 1 know them all t and they were not hard to
reckon^ were it worth the trouble : l3ut the most consi*
derable of them I will presently name you. And to
begin where we now are^ for you must know we are now
upon the very skirts of Derbyshire : we have, first,
the river Dove, that we shall come to by and by,
which divides the two counties of Derby and Stafford
for many miles together,— and is so called from the swift-
ness of its current t and that swiftness [is] occasioned by
the declivity of its course : and, by being so straitened in
that course betwixt the rocks, — by which, (and those,
very high ones,) it is, hereabout, for four or five miles^
confined into a very narrow stream : a river that from
a contemptible fountain, which I can cover with my
hat — by the confluence of other rivers, rivulets, brooks,
and rills — is swelled, before it falls into Trent^ a little
below Eggington, where it loses the name, to such a
breadth and depth, as to be in most places navigable,
were not the passage frequently interrupted with fords
and wears ; and has as fertile banks as any river In
England, none excepted. And this river, from its
head, for a mile or two, is a black water ; as all the rest
of the Derbyshire rivers of note, originally, are, for they
all spring from the mosses ; but is in a few miles' travel,
so clarified by the addition of several clear and very
great springs, bigger than itself, which gush out of the
lime-stone rocks, that, before itcomes tomy house, which
is but six or seven miles from its source, you will find it
one of the purest crystaline streams you have seen*

Viat. Does Trent spring in these parts ?

Pise. Yes, \w these parts : not in this county, but

C«AP. II. THE COMPLETE ANGLER, S87

somewhere towards the upper end of Staffordshire, I
think not far from a place called Trenthara ; and
thence runs down, not far from Stafford, to Wolsly-
bridge; and washing the skirts and purlieus of the
forest of Needwood, runs down to Burton in the same
county ; thence it comes into this, where we now are,
— and, running by Swarkston and Dunnington, re-
ceives Derzcent at Wildon ; and, so, to Nottingham ;
thence, to Newark; and, by Gainsborough, to Kings-
ton upon Hull, where it takes the name of Number^
and thence falls into the sea : but that the map will
best inform you.

Viat, Know you whence this river Trent derives its
name?

Pise. No, indeed : and jet I have heard it often
discoursed upon, — when some have given its denomina-
tion from the fore-named Trentham, though that seems
rather a derivative from it; others have said it is so
called from thirty rivers that fail into it, and there lose
their names ; which cannot be, neither, because it car-
ries that name from its very fountain, before any other
rivers fall into it : others derive it from thirly several
sorts of fish that breed (here; and that is the most
likely derivation : But, be it how it will, it is doubtless
one of the finest rivers in the world, and the most
abounding with excellent Salmon, and all sorts of deli-^
cate fish.

Viat. Pardon me, Sir, for tempting you into this
digression. And then proceed to your other rivers;
for I am mightily delighted with this discourse.

Pise, It was no interruption, but a very seasonable
question ; for Trent is not only one of our Derbyshire
rivers, but the chief of them, and into which all the
rest pay the tribute of their names, — which I had,
perhaps, forgot tp insist upon, being got to the other
end of the county^, had you not awoke my memory. But
li^vill now proceed. And the next river of note; for
I will take them as they lie eastward from us, is the
river Wj/e : I s^y of note ; for we have two lesser be-
twixt us and it, namely Za^A^m and Bradford: of

S88 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PAUT 11.

Trhich Lathldn is, by many degrees, the purest and
most transparent stream that I ever yet saw^ either at
home or abroad ; andbreedsj it is said, the reddest, and
the best Troiits in England : but neither of these are
to be reputed rivers, being no better than great springs.
The river Wye, then, has its source near unto Buxton,
a town some ten miles from lience, famous for a Avarm
bath, and which you are to ride through in your way to
Manchester : a black water, too, at the fountain, but,
by the same reason with Do-ce, becomes very soon a
most delicate clear river : and breeds admirable Trout
and Grayling, reputed by those, who, by living upon
its banks are partial to it, the best of any : And this —
running down by Ashford, Bakewell, and Hadden —
at a town a little lower, called Rowsly, falls into Der-
went ; and, there, loses its name*. The next in order
is Derwent ; a black >vater too, and tliat not only from
its fountain, but quite through its progress, not having
these crystal springs to wash and cleanse it which the
two fore-mentioned have ; but abounds with Trout and
Grayling, such as they are, towards its source, — and
•with Salmon, below. And this river, from the upper,
and utmost, part of this county, where it springs, tak-
ing its course by Chatsworth, Darley, Matlock, Derby^
Burrow-Ash, and Awberson, falls into Trent, at a place
called Wildon ; and there loses its name. The east
side of this county of Derby, is bounded by little incon-

* By this it appears, that there are two rivers in England that bear
the name of Wye.-, the former Wye^ occasionally mentioned, p. 203, n. 209,
212, n. and elsewhere in this work, has, as well as the"iSi<rwr«, its head in
the Plinlimmon hill, on the borders of Montgomery and Cardiganshire ;
from whence, as its Latin name, Vaga^ imports, wandering through part
of Brecknockshire, it, near the /far, enters Herefordshire; and at Mordi-
ford, within four miles of Hereford, receives the Lug; from thence, pass-
ing on to Ross, it enters Monmouthshire, and falls into the Severn below
Chepstow.

It abounds with that small species of fish called Last-springs ; (for
which see page 212, n.) and also, with Grayling.

And here it may be necessary to remark, that the names of Avon, Oust,
Stoure, and some others, are common to many rivws in England, as that
of ^ulas is to numbers in Wales. See A^ff/« on the Polyoibion^ song the
sixth.

CHAP. II. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 389

siderable rivers ; as Awher^ Erowai/s^ and the like,
scarce worth naming, but trouty too ; and further we
are not to enquire. But, Sir, I have carried you, as a
man may say, by water, till we are now come to the
descent of the formidable hill 1 told you of; (at the
fpot of which runs the river Dove^ which I cannot but
love above all the rest; and therefore prepare yourself
to be a little fritrhtened.

Viat. Sir, I see you would fortify me, that I should
not shame myself: but I dait; follow where you please
to lead me. And I see no danger yet ; for tlie descent,
methinks, is — thus far — green, even, and easy.

Pise. You will like it worse presently, when you
come to the brow of the hill : And now we are there,
what think you ?

Viat, What do I think? Why I thinlj: it the
strangest place that, ever, (sure!) men and horses went
down ; and that, if there be any safety at all, the
safest way is to aliglit.

Pise. I think so, too, for you who are mounted
upon a beast not acquainted with these slippery
stones: and though I frequently ride down, I will
alight too to bear you company, and io lead you the
way. And, if you please, my man shall lead your
liorse,

Viat. Marry, Sir ! and thank you too ; for I am
afraid I shall have enough to do to look to myself:
and with ray horse in my hand should be in a double
fear, both of breaking piy neck, and my horse*s falling
on me ; for it is as steep as a penthouse.

Pise. To look down from hence it appears so, I
confess : but the path winds and turns, and will not
be found so troublesome.

Viat. A¥ould I were well down, though! Hoist
thee! there's one fair 'scape! these stones are so slipr
pery I cannot stand ! yet again ! I think I were best
lay my heels in my neck, and tumble down.

Pise. If you think your heels will defend your
peck, that is the way to be soon at the bottom. But
give me your hand at this broj^d stone, and tjien thq
^orst is past.

390 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. l*ART 11,

Viat, I tliank you, Sir, I am now past it, I can
go myself. What's here ? the sign of a bridge ? Do
you use to travel with wheelbarrows in this country ?

Pise. Not that I ever saw, Sir, why do you ask
that question ?

Viat, Because, this bridge certainly was made for
nothing else : why ! a mouse can hardly go over it ;
'tis not two fingers broad.

JPisc. You are pleasant, and i am glad to see you
so : but I have rid over the bridge many a dark night.

Viot. Why according io the French proverb-^
and 'tis a good one, among a great many of worse
«ense and sound that language abounds in — Ce que
Dieu garde^ est Men garde, '^ They whom God
" takes care of, are in safe protection :" but, let me
tell you, I would not ride over it for a thousand
pounds, nor fall oiF it for two : and yet I think I dare
venture on foot, — though if you were not by to laugh
at me, I should do it on all four.

Pise, Well, Sir, your mirth becomes you, and I
am glad to see you safe over; and now you are weU
come into Staffordshire.

Viat. How, Staffordshire! What do I there, trow ?
there is not a word of Staffordshire in all my direction.

Pise. You see you are betrayed into it: but it
shall be in order to something that will make amends ;
and 'tis but an ill mile or two out of your way.

Viat» I believe all things, Sir ; and doubt nothing.
Is this your beloved river Dove ? 'Tis clear and swift,
indeed ; but a very little one.

Pise. You see it, here, at the worst: we shall
come to it, anon again, after two miles riding, and so
near as to lie upon the very banks.

Viat. Would we were there, once: but I hope we
have no more of these Alps to pass over.

Pise. No, no, Sir, only this ascent before you ;
■which you see is not very uneasy : and then you will
no more quarrel with your way.

Viat. Well, if ever I come to London— of which
many a man there, if he were in my place, would
make a qucstion^^l will sit down, and write jny

CHAP. II. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 391

travels; and, like Tom Coriate*, print them at my

own charge. Pray what dp you call this hill, we
came down ?

* Tom Coriatc lived In the reign of king James the ^rst; and, as Wood
calls him, was the ivhetstone of all the ivits of that age : and indeed, the
allusions to him, and to the singular oddness of his character, are num-
berless. He travelled almost over Europe on foot ; and in that tour
walked 900 miles with one pair of shoes, which he got mended at
Zurich. Afterwards he visited Turkey, Persia, and the Great Mogul's
dominions, travelling in so frugal a manner, that — as he tells his mother,
in a letter to her — in his ten months' travels, between Aleppo and the
Mogul's court, he spent but three pounds sterling ; living reasonably well
for about tivo-pence sterUng a day ; and of that three pounds he elsewhere
says, he was cozened of no less than ten shillings sterling, by certain Chris-
tians of the Armenian nation ; so that indeed, he spent but fifty shillings
in his ten months' travels. In these his travels, he attained to great pro-
ficiency both In the Persian and Indostan languages; in the former, he made
and pronounced an oration to the Great Mogul ; and his skill in the
latter, he took occasion to manifest in the following very signal Instance.
In the service of the English ambassador, then resident, — was a woman
of Indostan, a laundress, whose frequent practice it was to scold, brawl
and rail, from sun-rising to sun-set. This formidable shrew, di'd Corlate
one day undertake to scold-with, in her own language ; and succeeded so
well in the attempt, that, by eight of the clock in the morning, he had
totally silenced her, leaving her not a word to speak. See A Voyage to
East'Indiay by Edward Terry, chaplain to Sir Tho. Row, ambassador to
the Great Mogul, 12mo. 1655.

Further it appears, that he was a zealous champion for the Christian
ftligion. against the Mahometans and Pagans; in the defence whereof, he
lometimes risqued his life. In Turkey, when a priest, as the custom is
was proclaiming from a mosque-tower that Mahomet was a true prophet,
Tom, in the fury of his zeal, and in the face of the whole city, told the priest
he lyed^ and that bis prophet ivas an impotter'. and, at a city called Moltan,
in the East-Indies, he, in publick, disputed — with a Mahometan, who had
called him ^/az/r, or inf del — in these words: " But I pray thee^ tell me^ thou
«f Mahometan! dost thou, in sadness, call me GlAVK? That I do, rjuoth he :
*' Then, quoth I, in very sober sadness, I retort that shameful ivordin thy throat;
" and tell thee plainly, that I am a MUSSULMAN, and thou art a GlAUR."
He concludes thus : *• Go to then, thou false Believer, sime by thy injurious
•' imputation laid on me, in that thou calledst me GlAUR, thou bast provoked me
" to speak thus. I pray thee, let this mine ansnver he a ivarningfor thee not
" to scandalize me in the like manner any more ; for the Christian religion,
*' •which I profess, is so dear and tender unto me, that neither thou, nor
" any other Mahometan, shall, scot free, call me GlAOR, but that I shall
** quit you -with an ansiver ptu*h tt the wonder of those Mahometans^
*\Dixir

He died of the flux, occasioned by drinking sack at Surat, in
1617: having published his European travels in a quarto volume, which
he called his Crudities; and to this circumstance the passage In the t^xt
is a manifest allusion. See Athen. Oxon. Vol. I. Col. 422. ; Purchase's
Filgrim, Part I. Book 4. Chap. 17. ; Coriate's Letter from th* Court of th*

Z

392 THE COMPLETE AN6LER. PART II.

Pise. We call it Hanson-Toot.

Vint, Wljy, farewel Hanson-Toot! I'll no more
on thee; Fil go twenty miles about, first: Piih! I
sweat, that my shirt sticks to my back.

Ptsc. Come ! Sir, now we are up the hill ; and,
now how do you ?

Viat, Why very well, I Immbly thank you. Sir:
and warm enough, I assure you. What have we
here, a church ? As I'm an honest man, a very prety
church ! Have you churches in this country, Sir ?

Pise. You see we have : but Jiad you seen none,
"why should you make that doubt, Sir ?

Viat, Why, if you will nit be angry, FIl tell
you ; I thought myself a stage or two beyond Christ-
endom.

Pise, Come ! Come ! we'll reconcile you to our
country, before we part with you, — if shewing you
good sport with angling will do it.

Viat. My respect to you, and that together, may
do much. Sir : otherwise, to be plain with you, I do
not find myself much inclined that way.

Pise. Well, Sir, your raillery upon our mountains
has brought us almost home ; and look you where the
same river of Do^e has again met us, to bid you wel-
come, and to invite you to a dish of Trouts-to-morrow.

Viat. Is tliis the same we saw at the foot of Pen-
men-Maure ? It is a much finer river, here.

Pise. It will appear yet much finer to-morrow.
But look you. Sir, here appears the house, that is now
like to be your inn, for want of a better.

Viat. It appears on a sudden, but not before 'twas
looked for; it stands prettily, and here's wood about
it too, but so young, as appears to be of your own
planting.

Pise. It is so. Will it please you io alight. Sir ?
And now permit me, after all your pains and dangers,
to take you in my arms, and to assure you, that you
are infinitely welcome.

Great Mogul, Quarto, 1616; and, above all, Terry's Voyage before cited,
the author whereof was, as he himself asserts, his chamberrfellow, or
tent-mate, in East-Jndia,

CHAP. II. TM COMPLETE ANGLER. $93

Viat, I thank yon, Sir : and am glad with all my
heart I am here ; for, in downright truth, I am exceed-
ing weary.

Pise. You will sleep so much the better ; you shall
presently have a light supper; and to bed. Come,
Sirs, lay the cloth, and bring what you have presently ;
and let the gentleman*s bed be made ready in the
mean time, in my father Walton's chamber. And
now, Sir, here is my service to you ; and, once more,
welcome !

Viat* Ay marry, Sir, this glass of good sack has
refreshed me. And I'll make as bold with your meat,
for the trot has got me a good stomach.

Pise. Come, Sir, fall to then ; you see my little
supper is always ready when I come home ; and I'll
make no stranger of you.

Viat. That your meal is so soon ready, is a sign your
servants know your certain hours, Sir : I confess I did
not expect it so soon : but now 'tis here, you shall see I
will make myself no stranger.

Pise. Much good do your heart : and I thank you
for that friendly word. And now, Sir, my service to
you in a cup of More- Land's ale ; for you are now in
i\\e; More-Lands, but within a spit and a stride of the
Peak. Fill my friend his glass.

Viat. Believe me you have good ale in the More-
Lands, far better than that at Ash born.

Pise. That it may soon be ; for Ashborn has, (which
is a kind of a riddle,) always in it, the best malt and
the worst ale in England . Come ! take away :^ and
bring us some pipes, and a bottle of ale : and go to your
own suppers. Are you for this diet. Sir ?

Viat. Yes, Sir, I am for one pipe of tobacco ; and I
perceive yours is very good by the smell.

Pise. The best I can get in London, I assure
you *. But, Sir,— now you have thus far complied

• It should seem by what Walion says, Chap. X. that he was a smoker :
and the reader sees, by the passage in the text, that Piscatory by whom we
are to understand Cotton himself, is so curious as to have his tobacco from
iiondon. But our piscatory disciple may do as he pleases.

Smoking, or, as the phrase was, tahing tobacco^ was, in queen Elizabeth'*
Z 2

b

504 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART II.

with my designs, as to take a troublesome journey into
an ill country, only to satisfy me; how long may I hope
to enjoy you ?

Viat, Why truly. Sir, as long as I conveniently
can : and longer, I think, you would not have me.

Pisc» Not to your inconvenience by any means.
Sir: but I see you are weary; and therefore I will

and her successor's time, esteemed the greatest of all foppery, Ben Jon-
»on, who mortally hated it, has numberless sarcasms against smoking and
smokers; all which are nothing, compared to those contained in that work
of our king James the first, A Counter-blast to tobatco. Nor was the ordinary
conversation of this monarch less fraught with reasons and invectives
against the use of that weed, as will appear from the following saying
of his, extracted from A tolUttkn of witty apophthegms, delivered by
him and othen^ at several times ^ and on sundry occasions., published in 12mo»
1671.

" That tobacco ivas the lively image and pattern of hell ; for that it had, by
« allusion, in it all the parts and vices of the world whereby hell may be
•' gained ; to wit : First, It ivas a smoke : so are the vanities of this world.
♦* Secondly, Jtdelighteth them ivbo taieit : so do the pleasures of the world
«* delight the men of the world. Thirdly, It maktth men drunken and light in
«* the bead; SO do the vanities of the world, men are drunken therewith.
** Fourthly, He that taketh tobacso saith be cannot leave it, it doth beiviieb
.«' him : even so the pleasures of the world make men loath to leave them,
«* they are for the most part so inchanted with them. And further, besides
•' all this. It is like hell in the very substante of it, for it is a stinking loathsome
*♦ thing ; and so is hell. And further, his majesty professed that, ivere he to
** invite the devil to dinner, he should have three cashes; 1. A fig ; 2. A foil
•♦ of ling and mustard', and 3. A pipe of tobacco iov Aige^turt,^'

In a Poem printed «««<? 1619, written by Samuel Rowley,— I meet with
the following humorous lines, uttered by two good fellows, lovers of drink-
ing and tobacco ; and, since that time, printed on a London tobacconist't
pappr.

I am as dry as ever was March dust ;
I have one groat and, I will spend it just.
P-— O honest fellow ! if that thou say'st so,
Lo ! here's my groat, and my tobacco too.

I conclude this note on smoking, which, by this time, may have made
the reader laugh, with the mention of a fact that may go near to make
him iveep, which the people of Herefordshire have by tradition. In
that county, to signify the last or concluding pipe that any one means to
tmoke at a sitting, they use the term a Kemble Pipe; alluding to a man
of the name of Kemble, who, in the cruel persecution under that mer-
ciless bigot queen Mary, being condemned for heresy, — in his walk of
some miles from the prison to the stake, amidst a croud of weeping friends,
with the tranquillity and fortitude of a primitive martyr, smoked a pipe of
tebattQ /

CHAF. II. THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 395

presently wait on you to your chamber, — ivliere, take
counsel of your pillow ; and, to-morrow, resolve me.
Here, take the lights. And pray follow them, Sir.
Here you are like to lie ; and now I have shewed you
your lodging, I beseech you, command any thing you
want ; and so I wish you good rest.
Viat, Good night, Sir*.

• The gentlemanly hospitality of Ptseafor'»—hy whom we are, here, to
understand Mr. Cotton himself — in his behaviour to a stranger ; manifested
in the foregoing part of the dialogue, and in this instance of courtesy ; ic
well worth noting.

2 3

596 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 3PART II*

CHAPTER III.

Conference containing a description of Cotton^s fishing-
house, with his Apology for writing a supplement
to Walton's book.

PiSCATOR-JUNIOR.

GOOD morrow, Sir: what! up and drest, so
early?

Viat. Yes, Sir, I have been drest this half hour :
for I rested so well, and have so great a mind either to
take or to see a Trout taken in your fine river, that I
could no longer lie a bed.

Pise, I am glad to see you so brisk this morning,
and so eager of sport : though, I must tell you^ this
day proves so calm, and the sun rises so bright, as pro-
mises no great success to the angler, — but, however,
we'll try, and, one way or other, we shall, sure, do
something. What will you have to your breakfast ? or,
what will you drink this morning ?

Viat, For breakfast : I never eat any,— and for
drink : am very indifferent : but if you please to call for
a glass of ale, I'm for you ; and let it be quickly, if you
please, for I long to see the little fishing-house you spoke
of, and to be at my lesson.

Pise, Well, Sir, you see the ale is come without
calling ; for though I do not know yours ^ my people
know my diet, which is always one glass as soon as I
am drest : (and no more, ^ill dinner :) and so my ser-
vants have served you.

Viat. My thanks ! and now, if you please, let us
lookout, this fine morning.

Pise. With all my heart. Boy, take the key of
my fishing-house : and carry down those two angle-
rods in the hall- window, thither, with my fish-pan-

{

CHAP. III. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. $97

nier, pouch, and landing-net; and stay you there till
we come. Come ! Sir, A\e'il \valk after; where, by the
way, I expect you should raise all the exceptions against
our country you can.

Viat. Nay, Sir, do not think me so ill-natured,
nor so uncivil: I only made a little bold with it last
night to divert you, and was only in jest.

Pise, You were then in as good earnest, as I am
now with you : but had you been really angry at it, I
could not blame you ; for, to say the truth, it is not
very taking at first sight. But look you. Sir, — now
you are abroad, does not the sun shine as bright here
as in Ei^sex, Middlesex, or Kent, or any of your South-
ern counties ?

Viot, 'Tis a delicate morning, indeed ; and I now
think this a marvelous pretty place.

Pise, Whether you think so or no, you cannot
oblige me more than to say so: And those of my
friends who know my humour, and are so kind as to
comply with it, usually flatter me that way. But
look you, Sir, — now you are at the brink of the hill,
how do you like my river ; the vale it winds through,
like a snake; and the situation of my little fishing-
house ?

Viat, Trust me, 'tis all very fine ; and the house
seems, at this distance, a neat building.

Pise, Good enough for that purpose. And liere is
a bowling-green too, close by it ; so thougli I am my-
self no very good bowler, I am not totally devoted to
my own pleasure, but that I have also some regard to
other men's. And now, Sir, you are come to the door ;
pray walk in, and there we will sit, and talk as long as
you please.

Fiat, Stay, what's here over the door ? Piscato-
KiBus Sacrum *. Why then, I ^ ^, , , ,

T 1 ^'jI 1 There IS,, under this motto,

perceive I have some title here ; tj,e cypher mentioned [e.bi.

for I am one of them, though bltediji'ith embellishments'] in

one of the worst. And here, be- the title page o/ Part ii.
low it, is the cypher too you ilJZ?bTntlrid;T'^

2 4:

398 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART II.

the Dialogue:] hut the ^\ez- sDokc of : and *tis prctlilv con-

tains^andhteado-ws about it, 1^1 Vtd. HaS Hiy HiaSler VV 3.11011
sannot-^unlesi Sir Philip CVCr bcCH DClC tO SCC it; lOI it
Sidney, or Mr. Cotton's fa- sCCmS MCW buUt * ?

?/;;. ""'' "^'"* "'"" '' ^«^^- Yes ; he saw it cut in
the btoiie before it was set up, but
never in the posture it now stands : for the house was but
building when he was last here, and not raised so high
as the arch of the door. And I am afraid he will not see
it, yet ; for he has lately writ me word, he doubts his
coming down this summer ; which, I do assure you, was
the worst news he could possibly have sent me.

Viat, Men must sometimes mind their affairs to
make more room for their pleasures. And 'tis odds
he is as much displeased with the business that keeps
him from you, as you are that he comes not. But
I am the most pleased with this little house, of any

* I have been favoured with an accurate description of thii fishing-
house, by a perion, who, — being in that country — with a view to oblige
me, went to see it. The account he gives of it, is, That it is of stone;
and the room on the inside, a cube of about fifteen feet, — that it is paved
with black and white marble ; in the middle is a square black marble
table, supported by two stone feet. The room is wainscoted, with curi-
ous moldings that divide the panels up to the cieling : in the larger panels,
are represented in painting some of the most pleasant of the adjacent
scenes, with persons fishing; and in the smaller, the various sorts of tackle
and implements used in angling. In the further corner, on the left, is a
fire-place with a chimney ; and on the right, a large beaufet — with folding
doors, whereon are the portraits of Mr. Cotton, with a boy-servant ; and
Walton; in the dress of the time. Underneath is a cup-boar J; on the
door whereof, the figures of a Trout, and of a Grayling, are well pour-
trayed. The edifice it at this time (1784) in but indifferent condition;
the paintings, and even the wainscoting, In many places, being much
decayed. Hawkins.

The ivood-cuty 'which in the last three editions, ivas brought ir}
txre, as some amends for the acknoivledged indicuracy of Smith's
vieiv of the Fishing-house,-^is noiv rendered unnecessary ; as both
Smith's vieivs, that already ad-verttd to, and that of Pite Poo!,
jtivtj>lace, in this edition, to neiv and sorrett vieivs engraved by
Audinet after a finished drawing, and masterly fainting of the
etlebrated artistp Mr, Samuel,

TiOaitty ICSanud jryy

TnntsJ :vrSamusl£i3St!- in, tAt Sp-.^'ui

<;HAP. III. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. S9&

thing I ever saw : it stands in a kind of peninsula too,
with a delicate clear river about it. I dare, hardly, go
in, lest I should not like it so well within as without s
but, by your leave, I'll try. Why this is better and
better ; fine lights, finely wainscoted ; and all exceed-
ing neat; with a marble table, and all, in the
middle !

Pise, Enough, Sir, enough; I have laid open to
you the part where I can worst defend myself; and now
you attack me there. Come, boy ! set two chairs. And
whilst I am taking a pipe of tobacco, which is always
my breakfast, we will, if you please, talk of some other
subject.

Viat, None fitter, then, Sir, for the time and place,
than those instructions you promised.

Pise, I begin to doubt, by something I discover in
you, whether f am able to instruct you or no : though,
if you are really a stranger to our clear northern rivers,
I still think I can! and therefore, since it is yet too
early in the morning at this time of the year, to-day
being but the seventh of March, to cast a fly upon the
water,— if you will direct me what kind of fishing for a
Trout I shall read you a lecture on, I am willing and
ready to obey you.

Viat. Why, Sir, if you will so far oblige me, and
that it may not be too troublesome to you, — I would
entreat you would run through the whole body of it:
And I will not conceal from you, that I am so far in
love with you, your courtesy and pretty Moreland scat,
— as to resolve to stay with you long enough — by inter-
vals, for I will not oppress you — ^to hear all you can say
upon that subject.

Pise. You cannot oblige me more than by such
a promise; and therefore, without more ceremony,
I will begin to tell you. That, my father Walton hav-
ing read to you before, — it would look like a presump-
tion in me, (and, peradventure, would do so, in any
other man,) to pretend to give lessons for angling
after him, who, I do really believe, understands as much
of it, AT LEAST, as any man in England, — did I
not pre-acquaint you, that I am not tempted to it by

400 THfi COMPLETE ANGLER, PART II.

any vain opinion of myself, that I am able to give yoa
better directions :— But having, from my childhood,
pursued the recreation of angling, in very clear rivers,
truly, I think, by much (5o?/?e of them, at least) the
clearest in this kingdom ; and the manner of angling
here with us, by reason of that exceeding clearness,
being something different from the method commonly
used in others which, by being not near so bright,
admit of stronger tackle and allow a nearer approach
to the stream; I may perad venture give you some
instructions, that may be of use, even in your own
rivers : and, shall bring you acquainted with moi-e
flies — and shew you how to make them, and with what
dubbing, too — than he has taken notice of in his Com-
plete Angler.

Viat. I beseech you, Sir, do- And if you will lend
me your steel, I will light a pipe the while; for that is^
commonly, my breakfast in ^ morning, too.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 40i

CHAPTER IV:.

Angling' for Tnovt or Grayt.ing, divided into thret
branches,

PiSCATOR-JuNlOR.

WHY! then Sir, — io bes^in raethodicallj, as a master
in any art should do ; and I will not deny, but that
I think myself a master in tliis ; I shall divide Angling
for Thout, or Grayling, into these three ways;
--*at the top; at the bottom; and in the middle.
Which three ways, though they are all of them, as I
shall hereafter endeavour to make it appear, in some
sort common to both tliose kinds of fish, — yd are they
not so generally and absolutely so, but that they will
necessarily require a distinction ; which, in due place,
I will also give you.

That which we call angling at the top, is with a fly ;
at the bottom, with a grounct-bait ; in the middle, with
a minnow or ground-bait.

Angting-at-the-top is of two sorts ; with a quick fly,
or with an artificial-fly.

That we call Angling'ttUthe-hottom, is also of two
sorts; by hand, or with a cork or float.

That we call Anglin g-in-the- middle ^ is also of two
sorts : with a Minnow, for a Trout, — or, with a ground-
bait, for a Grayling.

Of all which several sorts of angling, I will, if you
can have the patience to hear me, give you the best
account I can.

Viat, The trouble will be yours, and mine the
pleasure and the obligation : I beseech you therefore to
proceed.

Pise. Why, then ! first, of fly-fishing.

iOi THE COMPLETE ANGLER. fARt it

CHAPTER V-

Of FiSHlNG-AT-TiiE-Top— Witb a Natural-Fly^w
Management of the rod and line with an Arti--
ficial-Flt. Directiofis how to make a fly*

PiSCATOR-JuNIOR*

FLY-fisbing, or fish ing-at-the- top : is, as I said
before, of two sorts ; with a natural and living fly, or
with anartificial and made fly.

First then, of the Natural-Fly; of which we
generally use but two sorts ; and those but in the two
months of May and June only ; namely, the Greene
drake, and the Stone-Jly : though I have made use of
a third, that way, called the Camlet-Jli/ , with very
good success, for Grayling ; but never saw it angled
with by any other, after this manner, my master only
excepted, who died many years ago, and was one of
the best anglers that ever I knew.

These are to be angled-with with a short line, not
much more than half the length of your rod, if the
air be still; or with a longer — very near, or, all out,
as long as your rod — if you have any wind to carry it
from you. And this way of fishing we call da ping,
DABBING, or DiBBiNG*; whcrcin you are always to
have your line flying before you — up, or down, the
river, as the wind serves— and to angle as near as you
can to the bank of the same side whereon you stand ;
though where you see a fish rise near you, you may
guide your quick jly over him^ whether in the middle,
or on the contrary side ; and if you are pretty well out
of sight — either by kneeling, or the interposition of a
bank or bush— you may almost be sure to raise^ and
take him too; if it ho presently (\onQ', — the fish will,
otherwise y perad venture be removed to some other

* See, In Chap. VII, ;/j/r<?, May art* 11. directions how to bait with
the Green-drake fly.

fSHkT, V. THB COMPLETE ANGLER, ^0$

place, if it be in the still deeps, where he is always in
motion, and roving up and down to look for prey:
though, in a stream^ you may always almost, esper
jcially if there be a good stone near, find him in the
same place. Your line ought, in this case, to be
three good ha^rs next the hook ; botli by reasoji you
are, in this kind of angling, to expect the biggest
fish, — and also that, wanting length to give him line
after he is struck, you must be forced to tug for it :
to which I will also add, that not an inch of your line
being to be suffered to touch the water in dibbing, it
may be allowed to be the stronger. I should [raight3
now give you a description of those flies, their shape
and colour; and, then, give you an account of their
breeding ; and, withal, shew you how to keep and use
them : but shall defer them to their proper place and
season.

Vial. In earnest, Sir, you discourse very ration-
ally of this affair; and I am glad to find myself mistaken
in you, — for, in plain truth, I did not expect so 7nuch
from you.

Pise. Nay, Sir, I can tell you a great deal more
than this : and will conceal nothing from you. But I
must now to the second way of Angling-at-the-top ;
which is with an artificial fly, — which also I will
shew you how to make before I have done. But, first,
shall acquaint you, That, with this, you are to
angle with a line longer — by a yard and a half, or
sometimes two yards— than your rod : And, with
both this and the other [i. e. whether you use the arti-
ficial or natural fly, remember to angle,] in a still day^
in the streams ; in a breeze that curls the water^ in the
still deeps — where, (excepting in May and June, that
the best Trouts will lie in shallow streams to watch for
prey : and even then, too,) you are like to hit the best
fish*.

For the length of your rod : You are always to be
governed by the breadth of the river you shall chuse to

• For Fishing with tv/o or morijlies : see note on pa. 405.

404 TriE COMPLETE ANGLE*. PART 11.

angle at : and for a Troiit-riYer, one of five or six yards
long is commonly enough ; and long^^r, though never
so neatly and artijficially made^ it ought not to be, if
you intend to fish at euse^ — and if otherwise, w here liei
the sport ?

Of these, the best that ever I saw, are raade in
Yorkshire ; which are all-of-one-piece, [in regard
that the joints do not unscrew,] that is to say", of se-
veral—^six, eight, ten, or twelve — pieces, so neatly
pieced ; and tied together with fine thread, below,
and silk, above; as to make it taper like a switch,
and to ply with a true bent to your hand. And
these, too, are light ; being made of fir-wood for two or
three lengths nearest to the hand, and of other wood
nearer to the top; that a man might, very easily,
manage the longest of them that ever I saw^ with one
hand. And these, when you have given over angling
for a season ; being taken to pieces, and laid up in some
dry place, may afterwards, be set together again in their
former postures; and will be as strait, sound, and good,
as the first hour they were made ; and being laid in oil
and colour, according to j^our master Walton's direc*
tion, will last many years.

The length of your line — to a man that knows how
to handle his rod, and to cast it— is no manner of in-
cumbrance ; excepting in woody places, — and in land-
ing of a fish, which every one that can afford to angle
for pleasure, has somebody to do for him. And the
length of line is a mighty advantage to the fishing at
distance ; and to fish Jine and far-off, is the first and
principal rule for Trout-angling *.

Your line— in this case, should never be less [than,]
nor ever exceed, te'o hairs — next to the hook ; for one
(though some I know, will pretend to more art than
their fellows,) is indeed too few,-— the least accident,
with the finest hand, being sufficient to break it ; But
he that cannot kill a Trout of twenty inches long with

* An artist may easily throw twelve yards of line, with one hand, ao4
with two, he may as easily throw eighteen.

CHAf». V. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 405

two, in a river clear of wood and weeds — as this, and
some others of ours are — deserves not the name of an
angler*.

Now, to have 7/our whole line as it ought to 5e, — •
two of the first lengths nearest the hook should be of
two hairs, apiece; the next three lengths above them,
of three ; the next three above them, of four ; and,
so, of five ; and six ; and seven ; to the very top : by
which means, your rod and tackle will, in a manner,
be taper from your very hand to your hook; your line
will fall much better and straiter, and cast your fly to
any certain place to which the hand and eye shall direct
it, — wi(h less weight and violence, that would other-
wise circle the water, and fright away the fish.

In CASTING YOUR LINE, Do it always bcforc you f ,

* See the direction for your rod and line, in the notes on Chap. XXL
Part. I.

f Till you are a proficient, every throw will go near to cost you a hook:
therefore practise for some time without one. Haivkins.

Management of the line when Fishing either with one fly or two or
MORE FLIES. When you have fixed your rod properly with your winch
thereon, [see ante pa. 199, n. describing ivincb and rings.,'] and brought your
line from it through the rings of your rod, — loop on to it, by the strong-
est end, yo\ir foot-length ; which should be about three yards and a half
long ; made of good, strong, single silkworm guts, well tied, and the
knot! neatly whipped, running a (very little) finer towards the bottom-
end, — at which place, there must be a neatly-whipped loop : Then take
your end-fly, or stretcher; which should be made with one, or two lengths
—of good level gut, full as fine as, or a little finer than, the bottom link of
your foot-length — tied and whipped neatly together, and looped nicely at
the end ; loop this to the end of your gut-length; and then, your drop-
fly just above a knot, where whipped, about a yard from the end-fly, — to
hang from the Une not more than two or three inches. If you chuoe to
fish for more, keep them all about the same distance. And observe, that
if your droppers be larger than, or even as large as, your stretcher, — you
will not be able to throw a good line ; but a beginner should never use
more than one fly.

Whan thus prepared, — let-out the line, about half as T * t' f
long again as the rod : and holding the rod, properly, , "' ^*' tl"^!
in one hand, — and the line juc^t above the fly, in iv ng e

the other, — give your rod a motion from right to left, and as you
move the rod backwards, in order to throw out the line, dismiss
the line from your hand at the same time; And try several
throws, at this length. Then let-out »?or^ //«^ ; and try that; still using
more, and more, till you can manage any length needful; but ahuf
tiine yardsj is quite sufficient for a learner to practise with. And observe
that in raising your line, in order to throw it again, you should wave the
rod a little round your head, and not bring it directly backwards: nor

400 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART 1I»

and so thai your fly may, first, fall upon the water,
and as little of your line with it as is possible : though if
the wind be stiiF, jou will then, of necessity, be com-.
pelled to drown a good part of your line, to keep your
fly in the water. And in casting your fly, you must
aim at the further — or, nearer — bank; as the wind
serves your turn, — which also will be with, and against,
you, on the same side, several times in an hour, as the
river winds in its course, and you will be forced to
angle up and down by turns accordingly : but are to
endeavour, as much as you can, to have the wind, ever-
more, on your back. And always be sure to stand as
far off the bank as your length will give you leave,
"when you throw to the contrary side : though when
the wind will not permit you so to do, and that
you are constrained to angle on the same side
whereon you stand, — you must then stand on the
very brink of the river, and cast your fly to the ut-
most length of your rod and line; up or down the river,
as the gale serves.

It only remains — touching your line — to enquire,
Whether your two hairs next to llie hook are better,
twisted or open? And, for that, — I should declare
that I think the open way the better, because it makes
less shew in the water; but that I have found an incon-
venience or two, or three, that have made me almost

must you return the line too soon, nor until it has streamed its full length,
behind you, — or, you will certainly whip-oiF yaur end-fly. There is
great art in making your line fall light on the water, and shewing the
flies well to the fish. The best way that I can direct, i»: When you
have thrown out your line, contriving to let it fall lightly and naturally,
— yeu should raise your rod gently, and by degrees ; sometimes, with a
kind of a gentle, tremulant flourish, — which will bring the flies on a little;
towards you; still letting them go down with the stream, but never draw
them against it, for it is unnatural; and before the line comes too near
you, throw out again. When you see a fish rise at a natural fly, throw
about a yard above him, but not directly over his head; and let your
fly (or flies) move gently towards him, which will shew it him in a
more natural form and tempt him the more to take it. Experience
and observation alone, however, can make an angler a complete adept
in the art, so as to enable him to throw his fly behind bushes and
trees, into holes, under banks, and other places mentioned as the
Trout's haunts, and where the best fish are to be found. Taylor's Art of

CHAP. V. THE COMPLETE ANGLERo 407

weary of that -way,— of which one is, That, without
dispute, they are not so strong open as twisted* ; an-
other, That they are not, easily, to be fastened of so
exact an equal length in the arming, that the one will
not cause the other to bag, by which means a man has
but one hair upon the matter to trust to ; and the last
is; That these loose flying hairs are not only raoi e apt
to catch upon every twig, or bent, they meet with, — but,
moreover, the hook, in falling upon the water, willj
very often, rebound and fall back betwixt the hairs,
and there stick, (which, in a rough water especially,
is not presently to be discerned by the angler,) so as
the point of the hook shall stand reversed ; by which
means, your fly swims backward, makes a much greater
circle in the water, and — till taken home to you, and
set right — will never raise any fish, or, if it should, (I
am sure, but by a very extraordinary chance,) can hit
nonet.

Having done with both these ways of fishing-at-the-
top, the lengthof your rod, aiid line, and all, — I am,
next, to teach you, How to make a fly ; and, after-
wards, Of what dubbing you are to make the several
flies I shall hereafter name to you.

In making a fly, then, which is not a, hackle or
palmer-fly, — (for of those, and their several kinds, we
shall have occasion to speak every month in the
year, — ) you arCj first, to hold your hook fast betwixt
the fore-finger and thumb of your left hand, with the
back of the shank upwards, and the point towards your
fingers* end ; then take a strong small silk — of the co-
lour of the fly vou intend to make, wax it well with
wax of the same colour too, to which end, you are al-
ways, by the way, to have wax of all colours about

* In the copies, the words are tii^lsted as open ; contrary to what is*
evidently, from the connection, the Author's meaning ; the Editor has*
therefore, transposed the words.

f This, and the other inconveniences mentioned in this paragraph,
are effectually avoided by the use of a fine grass, or gut, of about half a
yard long, next the hook. See the notes on Chap. XXI. Part I, ante,
page 328, paragr, ult.

A A

408 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. FART It,

you — and draw it betwixt your finger and thumb, to
the head of the shank ; and then whip it twice, or
thrice about the bare hook, which (you must know) is
done, both to prevent slipping, and also that the shank
of the hook may not cut the hairs of your towght,
which sometimes it will otherwise do. Which being
done, take your line, and draw it likewise betwixt your
finger and thumb — holding the hook so fast, as only
to suffer it to pass by — until you have the knot of your
towght almost to the middle of the shank of your hook,
on the inside of it ; then whip your silk twice or thrice
about both hook and line, as hard as the strength of
the silk will permit. Which being done, strip the
feather, for the wings, proportionable to the bigness of
your fly; placing that side downwards which grew
uppermost before, upon the back of the hook ; leav-
ing so much only — as to serve for the length of the
wing— of the point of the plume, lying reversed, from
the end of the shank upwards : then whip your silk
twice, or thrice, about the root-end of the feather, hook,
and towght; which being done, clip off the root-end of
the feather close-by the arming, — and then whip the
silk, fast and firm, about the hook and towght, until
you come to the bend of the hook — ^but not further as
you do at London, and so make a very unhandsome,
and, in plain English, a very unnatural and shapeless
fly. Which being done, cut away the end of your
towght, and fasten it. And then take your Dubbing,
which is to make the body of your fly, as much as you
think convenient; and holding it lightly — with your
hook— betwixt the finger and thumb of your left hand,
take your silk with the right, and twisting it betwixt
the finger and thumb of that hand, the dubbing will
spin itself about the silk, — which when it has done,
whip it about the armed-hook, backward, till you come
to the setting-on of the wings. And then take the
feather for the wings, and divide it equally into two
parts; and turn them back towards the bend of the
nook, the one on the one side, and the other on the
other of the shank ; holding them fast in that posture

•MAP. V; THfe COMPLETE ANGtER. 409

betwixt the fore-finger and thumb of the left hand :
which done, warp them, so, down as to stand, and
slope, towards the bend of the hook ; and having
warped up to the bend of the shank,— hold the fly,
fast, betwixt the finger and thumb of your left hand ;
and then take the silk betwixt the finger and thumb of
your right hand ; and, where the warping ends, pinch
or nip it— with your thumb nail, against your finger,
—and strip away the remainder of your dubbing from
the silk: and then with the bare silk, whip it once or
twice about; make the wings to stand in due order ;
fasten, and cut it off*. After which, with the point of a
needle, raise up the dubbing gently from the warp ;
twitch off the superfluous hairs of your dubbing; leave
the wings of an equal length, your fly will never else
swim true ; and the work is done. And this way of
making a fly, which is certainly the best of all other^
was taught me by a kinsman of mine, one Captaiii
Henry Jackson ; a near neighbour; an admirable fly-
angler, by many degrees the best fly-maker that ever I
yei met with *. And now that I have told you, how a
fly is to be made, — you shall presently see me make
one, with which you may peradventure take a Trout this
morning, notwithstanding the unlikeliness of the day;
for it is now nine of the clock, and fish will begin to
rise, if they will rise to-day. I will walk along by
you, and look on. And, after dinner, I will proceed
in my lecture of fly-fishing.

Viat, I confess I long to be at the river: and yet I
could sit here all day to hear you : but some of the one,
iand some of the other, will do well ; and I have a mighty
ambition to take a Trout in your river Dove.

Pise* I warrant you shall : I would notj for more
than I will speak of, but you should; seeing I have so
extolled my river to you: nay, I will keep you here a
month, but you shall have one good day of sport before
you go.

* There needs nothing more be said of these Directions, than that hun*
dreds have, by means of them alone, become excellent fly-makers.

For making a palmer, or hackle,— see the Notes on Chap. VTI. in/ra.

aa2

V

410 THJB COMPLETE ANGLER* ^ART II«

Viat. You will find me, I doubt, too tractable that
way ; for, in good earnest, if business would give me
leave, and that it were fit, I could find in my heart to
stay with you for ever.

Pise. I thank you, Sir, for that kind expression.
And now let me look out my things to make this fly.

TrinuJ rrrS.f.i.K-nTU! tA- .^hwi,i.

THfi COMPLETE ANGLER. 411

CHAPTER VI.

FiSHiNG-AT-THE-Top Continued. Further Directiont
on Fly-making. Time when the Grayling is
in season. Rock in Pikepool.

Piscator-Junior.

BOY ! come, give me my dubbing bag here pre"
sently ; and now. Sir, since I find you so honest a man>
I will make no scruple to lay open my treasure before
you.

Viat, Did ever any one see the like ! what a heap of
trumpery is here ! certainly never an angler in Europe
has his shop half so well furnished as you have.

Pise, You, perhaps, may think now, that I rake
together this trumpery, as you call it, for shew only,
to the end that such as see it, which are not many I
assure you, may think me a great master in the art of
angling : but let me tell you, here are some colours,
as contemptible as they seem here, that are very hard to
be got, — and scarce any one of them which, if it should
be lost, I should not miss, and be concerned about the
loss of it too, once in the year. But look you, Sir,
amongst all these I will chuse out these two colours
only ; of which, this is bear's hair, — this darker, no
great matter what, but I am sure I have killed a great
deal offish with it; and with one or both of these, you.
shall take Trout or Grayling this very day, notwith?
standing all disadvantages,— or, my art shall fail me.
Viat, You promise comfortably ; ^i^ I have a

freat deal of reason to believe every thing you say : but
wish the fly were made that we were at it.
Fisc, That will not be long in doing. And pray
observe, then. You see, first, how I hold my hook ;
and, thus, I begin : — Look you, here are my first two
pr three whips about the bare hook; thus I join hoolf

A a3

412 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART II,

and line; thus I put on my wings; thus I twirl and
lap on my dubbing ; thus I work it up towards the
head; thus I part my wings; thus I nip ray superflu-
ous dubbing from the silk ; thus fasten ; thus trim and
adjust my fly. And there is a fly made; and now how
do you like it ?

Viat, In earnest, admirably well ; and it perfectly
resembles a fly : but we about London make tlie bodies
of our flies both much bigger and longer, so long as
even almost to the very beard of the hook.

Pise, I know it very well: — and had one of those
flies given me by an honest gentleman, who came with
my father Walton to give me a visit; which, to tell
you the truth, I hung in my parlour-window to laugh
at: — but. Sir, you know the proverb, '' They who go
*^ to Rome, must do as they at Rome do ;" and believe
me, you must, here, make your flies after this fashion,
or you will take no fish. Come! I will look you out a
line; and you shall put it on, and try it. There, Sir,
now I think you are fitted. And now beyond the
farther end of the walk you shall begin ; I see, at that
bend of the water above, the air crisps the water a little :
knit your line first, here ; and then go up thither, and
see what you can do.

Viat. Did you see that, Sir?

Pise. Yes, I saw the fish : and he saw you too,
which made him turn short. You must fish further
off", if you intend to have any sport here; this is no
New River, let me tell you. That was a good Trout,
believe me! did you touch him ?

Viat, No, 1 would I had— we would not have
parted so. Look you, there was another ; this is an
excellent fly !

Pise. That fl}', I am sure, would kill fish, if the
day were right: but they only chew at it, I see, and
will not take it. Come, Sir, let us return back to the
fishing-house : this still wate?', I see, will not do our
business to-day: you shall now, if you please, make a
fly yourself*, and try what you can do in the streams

* To make a fly is so essential, that he hardly deserves the name tff

#RAP. Vf. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 413

with that; and I know a Trout taken with a fly of
your own making, will please you better than twenty
with one of mine. Give me that bag again, sirrah I
Look you, Sir, there is a hook, towght, silk, and a
feather for the wings ; be doing with those : and I will
look you out a dubbing that I think will do.

Viat, This is a very little hook.

JPtsc, That may serve to inform you, that it is for
a very little fly : and you must make your wings ac-
cordingly ; for as the case stands, it must be a little
fly, and a very little one too, that must do jour busi*
ness. Well said! believe me, you shift your fingers
very handsomely* I doubt I have taken upon me to
teach my master. So, here's your dubbing now.

Viat, This dubbing is very black.

Pi'sc, It appears so, in hand : but step to the door,
and hold it up betwixt your eye and the sun^ and it
will appear a shining red ; let me tell you, never a
man in England can discern the true colour of a dub-
bing, any way but that ; and therefore choose always
to make your flies ou such a bright sun-shine day as
this,— which, also, you may the better do, because it is
worth nothing to fish in. Here! put it on; and be
sure to make the body of your fly as slender as you
can. Very good ! upon my word, you have made ii
marvellous handsome fly.

Viat, I am very glad to hear it ; it is the first that
ever I made of this kind, in my life.

Pise. Away, away ! You are a doctor at it ; but I
will not commend you too much, lest I make you
proud. Come! put it on; and you shall now go
downward, to some streams betwixt the rocks, below the

an angler who cannot do it. There are many who will go to a tackle-
shop, and tell the master of it, as Dapper does Subtle, in the Alchemist^
that they want ajly ; for which they have a thing put into their hands, that
would pose a naturalist to find a resemblance for : though, when particular
directions have been given, I have known them excellently made by the
persons employed by the fishing-tackle makers in London. But do thou,
my honest friend, learn to make thy own flies; and be assured, that in
collecting and arranging the materials, and imitating the various shapes
and colours of these admirable creatures, there is little less pleasure than
eyen in catching fish.

4 A 4

414 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART ^.

little foot-bridge you see there, — and try your fortune,-
Take heed of slipping into the water as you follow me
under tJiis rock. So, now you are over : and no^
throw in.

Viat. This is a fine stream indeed ; — there's one ! I
have him.

JPisc, And a precious catch you have of him ; pull
him out! I see you have a tender hand. This is a di-
minutive gentleman ; e'en throw him in again, and let
him grow till he be more worthy your anger.

Vmt, Pardon me. Sir, all's iish that comes to the
hook with me now. — Another!

JPisc. And of the same standing,

Viat. 1 see I shall have good sport now: another !
and a Grayling. Why you have fish here at will.

Pise, Come, come ! cross the bridge ; and go, down
Ihc other side, lower, where you will find finer streams
and better sport, I hope, than this. Look you. Sir,
here is a fine stream now. You have length enough ;
stand a little further off, let me entreat you ; and do
but fish this stream like an artist^ and peradventure a
good fish may fall to your share. — How now ! what !
is all gone?

Viat, No, I but touch'd him : but that was a fish
worth taking.

Pise, Why now, let me tell you, you lost that fish
by your own fault, and through your own eagerness
and haste ; for you are never to offer to strike a good
fish — if he do not strike, himself — till, first, you see him
turn his head, after he has taken your fly ; and then
you can never strain your tackle in the striking, if you
strike with any manner of moderation. Come! throw
in once again ; and fish me this stream by inches : for
I assure you, here are very good fish : both Trout and
Grayling lie here; and at that great stone on the
other side, it is ten to one a good Trout gives you the
meeting.

Viat. I have him now: but he is gone down to-
wards the bottom. I cannot sec what he is, yet he
should be a good fish by his weight : but he makes nq
great stir—

I'r trued T^yr SBaosrer tn t/c r Strand.

JCHAP. TI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 415

Pise, Why then, by what you say, I dare venture
to assure you, it is a Grayling, — which is one of the
jdeadest-hearted fishes in the world, and the bigger he
is, the more easily taken. Look you, now you see him
plain ; I told you what he was. Bring hither that land-
ing-net, boy ! And now, Sir, he is your own ; and, be-»
lieve me, a good one, sixteen inches long I warrant him ;
I have taken none such, this year.

*Viat, I never saw a Grayling, before, look so
black.

Pise. Did you not ? why then let me tell you, that
you never saw one, before, in right season : for, then, a
fcrayling is very black about his head, gills, and down
his back, — aijd has his belly of a dark grey, dappled
with black spots, as you see this is ; and I atn apt to
conclude, that from thence he derives his name of
Umber. Though I must tell you, this fish is past his
prime, and begins to decline, and was in better season
at Christmas than he is now. But move on ; for it grow s
towards dinner-time; and there is a very great and
fine stream, below, under that rock, that fills the deep-
est pool in all the river, where you are almost sure of a
good fish.

Viat. Let him come, I'll try a fall with him. But
I had thought, that the Grayling had been always in
season with the Trout, and had come in and gone out
with him.

Pise, Oh no ! assure yourself a Grayling is a
winter-fish ; but such a one as would deceive any but
such as know him very well indeed : for liis flesh, even
in his worst season, is so firm, and will so easily calver,
that in plain truth he is very good meat at all times :
but in his perfect season — which, by the way, none but
an overgrown Grayling will ever be — I think him so
good a fish, as to be little inferior to the best Trout that
ever I tasted in my life.

Viat. Here's another skip-jack ; and I have raised
five or six more, at least, whilst you were speaking.
Well, go thy way, little Dove ! thou art the finest
river that ever I saw, and the fullest of fish. Indeed,
Sir, I like it so well, that I am afraid you will be

416 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART IT.

troubled with me once a year, so long as we two
live.

Pise, I am afraid I shall not, Sir ; but were you
once here, a Mai/ or a Junc^ — if good sport would
tempt you, I should then expect you woulcl sometimes
see me ; for you would then say it were a fine river in-
deed, if you had once seen the sport at the height.

Viat. Which I will do, if I live, and fliat you
please to give me leave. There was one : — and there,
another*

Pise. And all this in a strange river, and with a fly
of your own making ! why what a dangerous man are
you!

Viat, I, Sir * : but who taught me ? and as Damae-
tas says by his man Dorus, so you may say by me,

If my man such praises hare,

What then have I who taught the knare f ?

But what have we got here ? a rock springing up in
the middle of the river \ this is one of the oddest sights
that ever I saw.

Pise, Why, Sir, from that pike J that you see
standing up, there, distant from

\ li is a roek.in the fashion the rOck this is Called PlKE-

./^.//r...;..//^^^^^^^^ ^ ^jjjj Mr. Isaac

cs btP. It stands tn the t ^ i 'xt 'j.

midst of the river Dove; WaltOU WaS SO pleaSCQ With it,

and not far from Mr. Cot- gg to draW it iu laudsCapC, lu

ton's house^r-^belo-w -which ^j^ j^, ^^^ ^j^-^^ '^^ ^ y^^^^^^ ^Ook
placey this delicate river , u u J

takes a sivift career be- I liavc at liomc ; as ne uas done

iivixt many mighty rods, sCVCral prOSpCCtS of my hoUSC
much higher and Bigger than j jj- j^ J ^ f^^ ^ ^g.

St. Pauls church before tt "'»»"^/ p y > c j 'ii

-was burnt. And this Dove morial of his favour, aud will

being opposed by one of the shcW yOU whcn WC COmC Up tO

highest of them, has, at last, ^[hhqy,
forced itself a tvay through
it; and after a mile's con'

*ealment, appears again with more glory and beauty than before that opposittOHt
running through the most pleasant vallies and most fruitful msado-wt that tkir
nation can justly boast of

* For aye^ Sir. f Sidney's Artadta.

Truitcd for Samuel Siutsur ui ot* Stra/ut ■

CMAP. VI. THE COMPLETE ANGLSR. 417

Viat. Has young master Isaac Walton been here,
too?

Pise. Yes, marry ! has he, Sir ; and that, again
and again too ; and in France since, and at Rome, and
at Venice, and I can't tell where : but I intend to ask
him a great many hard questions so soon as I can see
him, which will be, God willing, next month. Jn the
mean time. Sir, — to come to this fine stream at the head
of this great pool, you must venture over these slippery,
cobling stones. Believe me. Sir, there you were nifnr
ble, or else you had been down. But now you are got
over, look to yourself; for, on my word, if a fish rise
here, he is like to be such a one as will endanger your
tackle. How now !

Viat, I think you have such command here over
the fishes, that you can rise them by your word, as
they say conjurors can do spirits, and afterward make
them do what you bid them : for here's a Trout has
taken * my fly— I had rather have lost a crown. What
luck's tliis ! he was a lovely fish, and turned up a side
like a Salmon.

Pise. O Sir, this is a war where you sometimes
win, and must sometimes expect io lose. Never con-
cern yourself for the loss of your fly ; for, ten to one, I
teach you to make a better. Who's that, calls t ?

Serv, Sir, will it please you to come to dinner ?

Pise, We come. You hear, Sir, we are called ;
and now take your choice, — whether you w ill climb
this steep hill before you, from the top of which you
will go directly info the house; or, back again, over
these stepping-stones, and, about, by the bridge.

Viat, Nay : sure, the nearest way is best ; at least
my stomach tells me so ; and I am now so well ac-
quainted with your rocks, that I fear them not.

Pise, Come then, follow me. And so soon as we
have dined, we will down again to the little house:
where I will begin, at the place I left oflf, about fly-fish-

• Taketiy in the worst sense, viz. broke away with it.

f The dialogue is here so natural, and the incidents in this morning's
expedition so strongly marked, that the reader may almost imagine he
sees and hears all that is here related.

418 THE COMPIETE ANGLER. PAltT II.

ing, and read you another lecture ; for I have a great
deal more to say upon that subject .

Viat, The more, the better ; I could never have met
with a more obliging master, my first excepted. Nor
such sport — can all the rivers about London ever afford,
as is to be found in this pretty river—

Pise, You deserve to have better ; both because I see
you are willing to take pains, and for liking this little,
po well; and better, I hope to shew you before we part,

THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 419

CHAPTER VII.

FiSHiNG-AT-THE-TOp. FUes for the Months of Jsl^
nuary, February, March, April, and part of May ;
including^ under May, particular Directions how
to bait with the Green-Drake.

Viator.

COME, Sir ; having now well dined ; and being
again set in your little house, I will now challenge
your promise,— and, intreat ^ou to proceed in your
instruction for fly-fishing: which that you may be the
better encouraged to do, I will assure you, that I have
not lost, I think, one syllable of what you have told me ;
but very well retain all your directions, both for the
rod, line, and making a fly. And now, desire an ac-
count of the flies themselves.

Pisc^'Ju. Why \ Sir, I am ready to give it to you :
and shall have the whole afternoon to do it in, if nobody
come in to interrupt us ; for you must know, besides
the unfitness of the day, that the Afternoons, so earli/
in March ^ signify very little to angling with a fly;
though with a minnow or a worm, something might,
I confess, be done.

To begin then where I left off: My father Walton
tells us of but twelve diXi\^c\dX flies only, to angle with
at-the-top : — and gives their names : of which some
are common with us here ; and I think I guess at most
of them, by his description : and I believe they all
breed, and are taken, in our rivers, though we do not
make them either of the same dubbing or fashion :—
And it may be — in the rivers about London, which I

E resume he has most frequented, and where it is likely
e has done most execution— there is not much notice
taken of many more : but we are acquainted with
several others here, though perhaps I may reckon

4!30 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART 11,

some of his by other names, too : but if 1 do, I shall
make you amends by an addition to his catalogue.
And although the fore-named great master in the art
of angling, for so in truth he is, tells you that no
man should, in honesty, catch a Trout till the middle
of March ; yet I hope he will give a man leave sooner
to take a Grayling, which, as I told you, is in the dead
months in his best season: And do assure you, which
I remember by a very remarkable token, I did once
take upon the sixth day of December one, and only
one, of the biggest Graylings and the best in season,
that ever I yet saw or tasted i And do usually take
Trouts, too — and with a fly— not only before the mid-
die of this month, but, almost every year, in February y
unless it be a very ill spring indeed. And havei
sometimes, in January — so early as New-year"* s tide ;
and, in frost and snow- — taken, Grayling in a warm
sunshine day for an hour or two about noon. And,
to fish for him with a Grub, it is then the best time
of all.

I shall therefore begin my fly-fishing with that month :
though I confess, very few begin so soon ; and that,
such as are so fond of the sport as to embrace all op*
portunities, can rarely in that month, find a day fit for
their purpose. And tell you, that, upon my know-
ledge, these flies — in a warm sun, for an hour or two in
the day — are certainly taken :

JANUARY.

1. A Red Brown; with wings, of the male of a
mallard, almost white ; the dubbing, of the tail of a
black long-coated cur, such as they commonly make
muflfs of, — for the hair on the tail of such a dog dyes,
and turns, to a red brown,— but the hair of a smooth-
coated dog of the same colour will not doj because it
will not dye, but retains its natural colour. [The
dubbing is to be warped on as No. 1, in February^
infra, '\ And this fly is taken j in a warm sun^ this
whole month through.

CHAP. VII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 421

2. There is also a very little Bright-Dun Gnat,

as little as can possibly be made, so little as never to
be fished-with with above one hair next the hook ;
and this is to be made, of a mixt dubbing of marten's
fur, and the white of a hare*s scut, with a very white
and small wing. And it is no great matter how fine
you fish : for nothing will rise in this month but a
Grayling ; and of them I never, at this season, saw
any taken — with a fly — of above a foot long, in my
life. But of little ones about the bigness of a smelt-
in a warm day, and a glowing sun— you may take
enough, with these two flies ; and they are both taken^
the whole month through.

FEBRUARY.

1. Where the Red-Brown of the last month ends,
Another, almost of the same colour, begins : with
this saving, that the dubbing of this must be of, some-
thing, a blacker colour ; and both of them warpt-on
with red silk. The dubbing, that should make this fly
and that is the truest colour, is to be get off the black
spot of a hog's ear : not that a black spot in any part
of the hog will not afford the same colour; but thai
the hair in that place is, by many degrees, softer, and
more fit for the purpose. His wing must be as the
other [No. 1, in January,] and this kills all this
month ; and is called the Lesser Red-Brown.

2. This month, also a Plain Hackle (a), or paU
mer-fly — made, with a rough black body, either of
black spaniel's fur, or the whirl of an ostrich feather ;
and the red hackle of a capon, over all — will kill, and
if the weather be right, make very good sport.

VARIATIONS.

(a) The author is now in the month of February ; during which, are
taken, the

Plain Hackli: ; which we would recommend to be made — of black
ostrich herl warped and tied down, to the dubbing with red silk : and «^
red cock's hackle, over all.

42S tHE COMPLETE ANGLEll. PART IT,'

3. Also a Lesser Hackle — with a black body,
also ; silver twist, over that ; and a red feather, over
all — will fill your pannier (if the month be open, and
not bound up in ice and snow,) with very good fish :

' but in case of a frost and snow, you are to angle only
with the smallest gnats, browns, and duns, you can
make ; and, with those, are only to expect Graylings
no bigger than sprats.

4. In this month, upon a whirling-round water, we
have a Great Hackle; the body, black, — and
wrapped with a red feather of a capon untrimmed,
that is, the whole length of the hackle staring out :
for we sometimes barb the hackle-feather, short, all
over; sometimes barb it only a little; and sometimes
barb it close, underneath, leaving the whole length
of the feather on the top, or back of the fly, which
makes it swim better, andj as occasion serves, kills
very great fish ,

5. We make use also, in this month, of another
Great Hackle ; the body black, and ribbed oyer
with gold-twist ; and a red feather over all : which
also does great execution (b).

6. Also a Great Dun ; made with dun bear's
hair, and tlie wings of the grey feather of a mallard
near unto his tail: which is absolutely the best fly
can be thrown upon a river this month, and with
which an angler shall have admirable sport.

7. We have also, this mouth, the Great Blue
Dun; the dubbing of the bottom of bear's hair next
to the roots, mixt with a little blue camlet; the wings,
of the dark grey feather of a mallard.

8. We have also, this month, a Dark-Brown ;
the dubbing, of the brown hair oflf the flank of a
brended cow : and the wings, of the grey drake's
feather.

VARIATIONS^

(6) Gold-twist Hackle; the same dubbing, warping and hackle*
—with gold- twist.

N. B. These baehles are taieriy ch'tefiy^ from nine to eleven in the morning,

and from one to three in the afternoon* They ivill Jo for any montb in

the yeary and upon any -water.

k

CHAP. VII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 423

And note, that these several hackles, or palmer-flies,
are some for one water, and one sky, and some for
another ; and according to the change of those, we
alter their size and colour. And note also, That —
both in this, and all other months of the year — when
you do not certainly know what fly is taken ; or can-
not see any fish to rise; you are, then, to put on a
small hackle, if the water be clear, or a bigger> iC
something dark, until you have taken one: and,
then, thrusting your finger through his gills, to
pull out his gorge,— which being opened with your
knife, you will then discover what fly is taken, and
may fit yourself accordingly *.

For the Making of a Hackle, or Palmer-fly, — my
father Walton has, already, given you sufficient di-
rection f.

* Ypu may also observe, that the fish never rise eagerly and freely at
any ' sort of flie, until thai kind come to the water's side ; for though I
have often, at the first coming-in of some flies, (which I judged they
loved best,) gotten several of them, — yet I could never find, that they did
much (if at all) value them, until those sorts of flies began to flock to
the river's side, and were to be found on the trees ani bushes there
in great numbers. Venables^ pa. 15.

When you first come to the river In the morning, — With your rod,
beat upon the bushes or boughs which hang over the waters. And by
their falling upon the waters, you will see what sorts of flies are there in
greatest numbers ; if divers sorts and equal in number, try them all,^
and you will quickly find which they most desire. Sometimes, they
change their fly (but it's not very usual) twice or thrice in one day ;
but, ordinarily, they seek not for another sort of flie — till they have,
for some days, even glutted themselves with a former kind — which is,
jcommonly, when those flies die and go out, P^enabhs, pa. 16-

f But, with Mr. Cotton's good leave, he has not ; nor has any author
that I know of; unless we are to take that for a palmer, which Walton
has given directions for making, page 177 ; which I can never do, till 1
see what I have never yet seen, viz. Caterpillars with wings. Rejecting ,
therefore, wings as unnatural and absurd, — supposing you would make
the plain hackle or palmer, which are terms of the same import, the
method of doing it is as follows, viz.

Hold your hook in a horizontal position, with the shank downwards,
and the bent of it between the fore-finger and thimib of your left hand :
and — shaving a fine bristle, and other materials, lying by you — take
half a yard of fine red marking silk well waxed, and, with your right
hand, give it four or five turns about the shank of the hook, inclining
the turns to the right hand ; when you are near the end of the shank,
turn it into such a loop as you are hereafter directed to make for
fastening off", — and draw it tight, leaving the ends of the silk to hang
down at each end of the hook. Having singed the end of yout
bristlci — ^lay the same along on the inside of the shank of the hook,

B B

424 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. TART 11.

MARCH.

For this mouth you are to use all the same hackles,
and flies with the other : but you are to make them less.

Bs low as the bent ; and whip four or five times round : then singe-
ing the other end of the bristle to a fit length, turn it over to the back
of the shank, and, pinching it into a proper form, whip down and fasten
off, as before directed; which will bring both ends of the silk into
the bent. After you have waxed your silk again, take three or four
strands of an ostrich feather; and — holding them, and the bent of
the hook as at first directed, the feathers to your left hand, and the
roots in the bent of your hook — with that end of the silk which you just
now waxed, whip them three or four times round, and fasten off: then
turning the feathers to the right, and, twisting them and the silk with
your fore-finger and thumb, wind them round the shank of the hook ;
still supplying the short strands, with new ones, as they fail, till you
come to the end and fasten off. When you have so done,— clip off the
ends of the feathers; and trim the body of the palmer, small at the ex-
tremities, and full in the middle ; and wax both ends of your silk, which
are now divided and lie at either end of the hook.

Lay your work by you ; And taking a strong bold hackle with
^bres about half an inch long, straiten the stem very carefully ; and
holding the small end between the fore-finger and thumb of your left
hand, — with those of the right, stroak the fibres the contrary way
to that which they naturally lie : and taking the hook, and holding it
as before, — lay the point of the hackle into the bent of the hook, with
the hollow (which is the palest) side upwards; and whip it very fast
to its place; in doing whereof, be careful not to tie in many of the
fibres, — or if you should chance to do so, pick them out with the point
of a very large needle.

When the hackle is thus made fast, the utmost care and nicety Is neces-
sary in winding it on; for if you fail in this, your fly is spoiled, and you
must begin all again : to prevent which — keeping the hollow, or pale, side
to your left hand ; and, as much as possible, the side of the stem down
on the dubbing — wind the hackle twice round ; and holding fast what
you have so wound, pick out the loose fibres, which you may have taken
in, and make another turn ; then lay hold of the hackle with the third
and fourth fingers of your left hand, with which you may extend it
while you disengage the loose fibres as before.

In this manner proceed, till you come to within an eighth of an Inch of the
end of the shank, where you will find an end of silk hanging ; and, by
■which time, you will find the fibres at the great end of the hackle some-
what discomposed ; clip these off close to the stem, and with the end
of your middle finger, press the stem close to the hook : — while, with
the fore-finger of your right hand, you turn the silk into a loop ; which
when you have twice put over the end of the shank of the hook, loop
and all, your work is safe.

Then wax that end of the silk which you now used ; and turn it over as
before, till you have taken up nearly all that remained of the hook,. — ob-
•erving to lay the turns, neatly, side by side. And lastly, clip off the

CHAP. VII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 425

I. We have, besides, for this month a little Dan
called a Whirling Dun (c); though it is not the

ends of the silk. Thus you will have made a bait that will catch Trout of
the largest 'size, in any water in England.

And lest the method of fastening off, which occurs so often in this kind
of work, should not appear sufficiently intelligible, the reader will see it
represented Fig. 9. Plate XII.

It is true, the method above described will require some variation in
the case of gold-and-silver-twist palmers ; in the making whereof, the
management of the twist is to be considered as another operation: but this
variation will suggest itself to every reader, as will also the method of
making those flies, contained in the notes, that have hackle under the
wings ; which, else, we should have added to Cotton's directions for mak-
ing a fly, which he gives p^iator iu the fishing-house. See page 407 of thi«
•econd Part.

VARIATIONS,

^ej Great Whirling Dun. Dub with fox cub — or squirrers— fur,
vrell mixed with about a sixth part of the finest hog's-wool : warp with
pale-orange wings, very large, taken from the quill-feather of a ruddy
hen: the head to be fastened with ash-colour silk: a red cock's hackle, at
full length, may be wrapped under the wings, and, a turn or two lower,
towards the tail.

T/jJs is a ailing ^y; and is to he seen rising out of the sedges in most Trout
rivers y late in the evenings seldom before sun-set^ and continues on the water
till midnight, or after. It is found most of the "warm months; but kills cbiefiy
in a blustering ivarm evening from the middle of May to the end of July.

The directions of Mr. Cotton for making flies are to be considered as
the very basis and foundation of tha<, art, no author before him having
ever treated the subject so copiously and accurately as he has done: what
improvements have been made since his time, have been handed about in
manuscript lists, but have hardly ever been communicated to the publick.

A reverend, worthy, and ingenious friend of mine ; a lover of angling,
who has practised that and the art of fly-making these thirty years, and
is the gentleman mentioned in the note. Page 304 ; has generously com-
municated to me the result of his many years' experience, in a list of a
great number of flies, not mentioned by Cotton, with some variations in
the manner of making those described in tlie text. And as to these devia-
tions, it is hoped they will be considered as improvements ; since I am
authorized to say, that the above gentleman has, in the making of flies,
made it a constant rule to follow nature.

Part of this list is, for very obvious reasons, wrought into the form of
notes on that of Mr. Cotton; and the rest — with another very valuable
Catalogue, composed by a north-country angler, and communicated to me
by the same gentleman— make No. II. and III. of the Appendix to this
Volume.

The reader will, there, also find No. IV.; a List of Flies formerly pub-
lished in the Angler^s Fade Mecum, so often referred to in the course of this
work; and though the flies therein contained are said to be, chiefly, of use
in stoney [rivers,] I have tried some of them, especially the duiis in Othei
fivers, apd found them to be excellent.

B B ;^

426 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART II.

Whirling Dun indeed ; which is one of the best flies
we have. And for this — the dubbing must be of the
bottom fur of a squirrel's tail; and the wing, of the
grey feather of a drake.

2. Also a Bright Brown. The dubbing either of
the brown of a spaniel, or that of a cow's flank ; with
a grey wing.

3. Also a Whitish Dun. Made of the roots of
camePs hair ; and the wings, of the grey feather of a
mallard.

4. There is also, for this month, a fly called the
Thorn-Tree Fly. The dubbing an absolute black,
mixt with eight or ten hairs of Isabella-coloured * mo-
hair : the body as little as can be made : and the
wings, of a bright mallard's feather. An admirable fly,
and in great repute amongst us for a killer.

5. There is besides this, another; (d) Blue Dun ;
the dubbing of which it is made, being thus to be got.
Take a small-tooth comb, and with it comb the neck of
a black greyhound, and the down that sticks in the

• Isabella, Sftzie di color* the fartecipa dsl bianco e del giallo. Altieri'«
Dictionary, Ji. kind of whitish yellow, or, as some say, buiF colour a little
soiled.

How it came by this name, will appear from the following anecdote;
for which, I am obliged to a very ingenious and learned lady. The Arch-
duke Albertus, who had married the Infanta Isabella, daughter of Philip
the second, king of Spain, with whom he had the Low Countries in
dowry; in the year 1602, having determined to lay siege to Ostend, then
in the possession of the heretics, — his pious princess, whe attended him in
that expedition, made a vow, that till it was taken she would never change
her clothes. Contrary to expectation, as the story says, it was three years
before the place was reduced ; in which time, her highness's linen had
acquired the above-mentioned hue.

VARIATIONS.

(d) Blue, or Violet Dun. Dub with the roots of a fox-cub*s tail,
and a very little blue violet worsted: warp with pale yellow silk; wing,
of the pale part of a starling's feather.

Taken from ei^bt to eleven^ and from one to three.
This fyt ijubieb is also called the ash-coloured dun, and blue dun, it
produced from a eadis ; it is so very smally that the bookf kno-wn at the
shops by the size No. 9. is full big enough for it, if not too big The
shape of the fly is exactly the same zvith that of the Green-drake. So
early in the year as February, they rvill drop on the water before eight in
the morning ; and Trouts, of the largett tize, as veil as tmall enet» "will
rite at then very eagerly.

CHAP. YII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 427

teeth will be the finest blue that ever yoa saw. The
wings of this fly can hardly be too white. And he is
taken about the tenth of this month, and lasteth till the
four and twentieth.

6. From the tenth of this month also till towards
the end, is taken a little Black Gnat. The dubbing
either of the fur of a black water-dog, or the down of
a young black water- coot ; the wings, of the male of
a mallard, as white as may be : the body as little as
you can possibly make it, and the wings as short as
his body,

7. From the sixteenth of this month also to the end
of it, we use a Bright Brown : the dubbing for
which is to be had out of a skinner's lime-pits, and of
the hair of an abortive calf, which the lime will turn
to be so bright as to shine like gold : for the wings of
this fly, the feather of a brown hen is best. Which
fly is also taken till the tenth of April.

APRIL.

All the same hackles and flies that were taken in
Marchy will be taken in this month also ; with this
distinction, only, concerning the flies,— that all the
browns be lapt with red silk, and the duns with yellow.

1. To these [add] a Small Bright Brown. Made
of spaniel's fur ; with a light-grey wing. In a bright,
day, and a clear water, is very well taken.

2. We have too a little (e) Dark Brown. The

VARIATIONS.

(e) Dark Brown. Dub with the hair of a dark brown spaniel, or
calf, that looks ruddy by being exposed to wind and weather ; warp
with yellow. "Wing, dark starling's feather.

Talenfrom eight to eleven.

This is a good /[y, and to be seen in most rivers; But so •variahle in its
huCi as the season advances, that it requires the tlosest attention to the na-
tural Jlyj to adapt the materials for making it artijieially^ — ivhitb is also
the case -with the violet or ash-toloured dun. When this fiy first appears f
it is nearly of a chocolate colour ; from ivhiehy by the middle of May, it
has been observed to deviate to almost a lemtn tolour : Northern anglers call
B B 3

428 THE COMPLETE ANGLER, PART 11.

dubbing of that colour, and some violet camlet
mixt ; and the wing, of a grey feather of a mallard.

3. From tlie sixth of this month to the tenth, we
have also a fly called the V^iolet-Fly. Made of
a dark violet stuff; his wings, of me grey feather
of a mallard.

4. About the twelfth of this month comes in the
fly called the Whirling-Dun (/) which is taken every
day, about the mid-time of day, all this month through^
and, by fits ^ from thence to the end of June. And is
commonly made of the down of a fox-cub, which is
of an ash colour at the roots, next the skin ; and ribbed
about with yellow silk : the wings, of the pale grey
feather of a mallard.

5. There is also a Yellow Dun {g). The dub-
bing of camel's hair, and yellow camlet — or wool—
mixt ; and a white grey wing,

6. There is also, this month, another Little
Br#wn, besides that mentioned before. Made with
a very slender body ; the dubbing of dark brown,
and violet camlet mixt ; and a grey wing. Which,
though the direction for the making be near the other,
is yet another fly, and will take when the other will
not, especially in a bright day, and a clear water.

7. About the twentieth of this month comes in a
fly called the Horse-flesh Fly. The dubbing of
which, is a blue mohair, with pink-coloured, and red,

VARIATIONS.

f/, by nvay of emtnetitCy the dark brown ; others call it the four-winged
brown : it has four wings lying fat on its baek^ something longer than the
body ivhich is longish^ but not taper. This fy is made on a smallish
hooh^ viz. jVo. 8, or 9.

(/) Little Whirling Dun. The body fox-cub, and a little light,
ruddy-brown mixed : warp with grey or ruddy silk ; a red hackle under
the wing : wing, of a land-rail, or ruddy brown chicken which is better.

ji ailing fy in a blustering day^ as the Great whirling dun is in the
eveningf and late at night.

{g) Yellow Dun. Dub with a small quantity of pale yellow crewel
mixed with fox-cub down from the tail, and warp with yellow: wing, of
a palish starling's feather.

Taken from eight to eleven., and from tiuo to four*

See more of the Yellow Dun in the Appendix, No, IV.

CHAP. VII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 429

tammy mixt ; a light coloured wing ; and a dark
brown head. This ily is taken best in an evening ; and
kills from two hours before sun-set till twilight ; and is
taken the month throuffh.

MAY.

And now, Sir, that we are entering into the month
of May, I think it requisite to beg not only your at-
tention, but also your best patience ; for I must now be
a little tedious with you, and dwell upon this month
longer than ordinary ; which that you may the better
endure, I must tell you, this month deserves and re-
quires to be insisted on ; forasmuch as it alone, and the
next following, afford more pleasure to the fly-angler
than all the rest. And, here, it is that you are to ex-
pect an account of the Green-drake, and Stone-fly, pro-
mised you so long ago; and, some others that are
peculiar to this month and part of the month follow-
ing, and that, though not so great either in bulk or
name, do yet stand in competition with the two before-
named, — and, so, that it is yet undecided, amongst the
anglers, to which of the pretenders to the title of the
May-fly, it does, properly and duly, belong. Neither
dare I, where so many of the learned in this art of
angling are got in dispute about the controversy, take
upon me to determine : but I think I ought to have a
vote amongst them ; and according to that privilesce,
shall give you my free opinion : and perad venture when
I have told you all, you may incline to think me in the
right.

Viat, I have so great a deference to your judgment
in these matters, that I must always be of your opi-
nion ; and the more you speak, the faster I grow to my
attention, for 1 can never be weary of hearing you upon
this subject.

Fisc, Why that's encouragement enough. And
now prepare yourself for a tedious lecture : but I will
first begin with the flies of less esteem, though almost
any thing will take a Trout in May, that 1 may after-

B B 4:

^

430 THE COMPLETE ANGLEIT. PART II.

wards insist the longer upon those of greater note and
reputation. Know therefore, that the first fly we take
notice of in this month, is called

1. The Turkey-Fly. The dubbing ravelled out
of some blue stuff, and lapt about with yellow silk ; the
wings, of a grey mallard's feather.

2. Next, a Great Hackle, or Palmer-Fly.
With a Yellow hodi/^ ribbed with gold-twist; and large
wings of a mallard's feather dyed yellow ; with a red
capon's Iiackle, over all.

3. Then, a Black Fly. The dubbing, of a black
spaniel's fur; and the wings, of a grey mallard's
feather.

4. After that, a Light Brown. With a slender
body ; the dubbing twirled upon small red silk, and
raised with the point of a needle, that the ribs or rows
of silk may appear — through the wings, of the grey
feather of a mallard.

5. Next a Little Dun. The dubbing, of a bear's
dun whirled upon yellow silk; the wings, of the grey
feather of a mallard.

6. Then a White Gnat ; with a pale wing, and a
blackhead.

' 7. There is also in this month a fly called the Pea-
cock-Fly. The body, made of a whirl of a peacock's
feather; with a red head ; and wings, of a mallard's
feather.

8. We have then another very killing fly, known by
the name of the Dun-Cut (h). The dubbing of which
is a bear's dun, with a little blue and ^^ellow mixt with
it ; ^ large dun wing ; and two horns at the head, made
of the hairs of a squirrel's tail.

9. The next is the Cow-Lady, a litile fly. The
body, of a peacock's feather ; the wing; of a red fea-
ther— or, strips of the red hackle — of acock.

10. We have, then, the Cow-Dung fly. The dub-
bing light brown and yellow, mixt ; the wing, the dark

{h) Dun-Cut. Dub with bearVcub fur, and a little yellow and green
crewel ; warp with yellow or green. Wing, of a land-rail.

Tozvards tbg evening of a showery dry, a great killer.

CHAP. VII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 431

grey feather of a mallard. And note, That, besides
these above-mentioned, all the same hackles and flies—
the hackles only brighter, and the flies smaller— that also
are taken in Jpril, will also be taken this month ; as
all browns and duns. And now I come to my Stone*
jly and Green-drake ; which are the matadores for
Trout and Grayling, and in their season kill more fish
in our Derbyshire rivers, than all the rest, past and to.
come, in the whole year besides.

But first I am to tell you, that we have four several
flies which contend for the title of the May-Jlt/^
namely.

The Green-Drake,

The Stone-Fly,

The Black- Fly, and

The Little Yellow May-Fly.

And all these have their champions and advocates, to
dispute and plead their priority : thongh I do not un-
derstand why the two last named should ; the first two
having, so manifestly, the advantage, both in their
beauty, and the wonderful execution they do in their
season.

11, Of these the Green-Drake comes in about the
twentieth of this month, or betwixt that and the latter
end ; for they are sometimes sooner, and sometimes
later, according to the quality of the year ; but never
well taken till towards the end of this month, and
i\\e beginning of June, The Stone-Fly comes much
sooner, so early as the middle of April, but is never
well taken till towards the middle of May ; and con-
tinues to kill, much longer than the green-drake stays
with us, so long as to the end almost of June, — and,
indeed, so long as there are any of them to be seen
upon the water, and, sometimes, in an artificial fly —
and late at night, or before sunrise in a morning —
longer.

Now both these flies — and I believe, many others,
though 1 think not all — are certainly and demonstra-
tively bred in the very rivers where they are taken;

432 THE COMPLETE ANGLER, PART II.

our cadis or cod-bait, which lie under stones in the
bottom of the water, most of them turning into those
two flies; and — being gathered in the husk, or crust,
near the time of tlieir maturity — are very easily known
and distinguished; and are, of all other the most re-
markable, both for their size, (as being of all other
the biggest, the shortest of them being a full inch long
or more,) and for the execution ihey do, the Trout and
Grayling being much more greedy of them, than
of any others : and, indeed, the Trout never feeds fat,
nor comes into his perfect season^ till these flies come
in.

Of these, the Green-drake never discloses from his
husk, till he be, flrst, there grown to full maturity,
body, wings, and all : and, then, he creeps out of his
cell,— but with his wings so crimpt and ruffled, by be-
ing prest together in that narrow room, that they are,
for some hours, totally useless to him; by which means,
he is compelled either to creep upon the flags, sedges,
and blades of grass — if his first rising from the bottom
of the water, be near the banks of the river — till the air
and sun stiffen and smooth them [his wings ;] or, if his
first appearance above water happen to be in the mid-
dle, he, then, lies upon the surface of the water, like a
ship at hull, (for his feet are totally useless to him there,
and he cannot creep upon the water as the stone-fly
can,) until his wings have got stiffness to Jl?/ with : (if
by some Trout or Grayling he be not taken in the inte-
rim, which ten to one he is ;) and, then, his wings stand
high, and closed exact upon his back, like the butter-
fly ; and his motion, in flying, is the same. His body
—is, in some, of a paler, in others, of a darker jtUow,
(for they are not all exactly of a colour,) ribbed with
rows of green — long, slender, and growing sharp to-
wards the tail ; at the end of which, he has three long
small whisks of a very dark colour, almost black ; and
his tail turns up towards his back, likeamallard, — from
whence, questionless, he has his name of the Green-
drake. These, as 1 thmk I told you before, we com-
monly dape, or dibble with : and having gathered great
store of them into a long draw-box, with holes in the

CHAP. VII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 433

cover to give them air ; where also they will continue
fresh and vigorous, a night or more ; we take them
out, thence, by the wings: And bait them, tli us, upoa
the hook; — we first take owe (for we commonly fish
with two of them at a time,) and putting the point of
the hook into the thickest part of his body, under one
of his wings, run it directly through, and out at the
other side, leaving him spitted, cross, upon the hook ;
and then taking the other ^ put him on after the same
manner, but with his head the contrary way : in which
posture they will live upon the hook, and play with
their wings, for a quarter of an hour or more. But you
must have a care to keep their wings dry, both from the
water, and also that your fingers be not wet when
you take them out to bait them, for then your bait is
spoiled .

Having now told you, how to angle with this fly
alive, — 1 am now to tell you next. How to make an ar-
tificial fly ; that will so perfectly resemble him, as to be
taken f by the fish] in a rough windy day — when no
flies can lie upon the water, nor are to be found about
the banks and sides of the river — ^to a wonder ; and with
which you shall, certainly, kill the best Trout and
Grayling in the river.

The artificial Green-drake, {i) then, is made upon a
large hook : the dubbing camel's hair, bright bear's
hair, the soft down that is combed from a hog's bris-
tles, and yellow camlet, well mixed together : the body
long, and ribbed about with green silk (or rather yel-
low) waxed with green wax : the whisks of the tail — of
the long hairs of sables, or fitchet : and the wings, — of
the white-gray feather of a mallard, dyed yellow, which
also is to be dyed thus :

VARIATIONS.

(i) Grern-Drake, or May-Flt. The body of seal's fur, or yellow
mohair, — a little cub-fox down, — and hog's wool, or light brown from a
Turkey-carpet, mixed ; warp with pale yellow ; pale yellow, or red cock's
hackle, under the wings ; wings, of a mallard's feather dyed yellow ;
three whiiks, in his tail, from a sable mufif.

Taken all dajy hut (biefiy from two to four In the aftertma.

43& THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART It.

Take the root of a harhary tree^ and sfufve it : and
put to it woody viss, with as much alhim, as a walnut :
and boil your feathers, in ity with rain-water ; and they
will be of a very fine yellow*

I have now done with the Green-drake, excepting to
tell you, that he is taken at all hours, diirina^ his season,
whilst there is any day upon the sky. And with a
rrmde-fly I, once, took— ten days .after he was absolutely
^oue, in a cloudy day, after a shower, and in a
JwhistliniT wind — five and thirty very ^reat T routs and
Grav lings betwixt five and eight of the clock in the
everting ; and had no less than five or six flies, with three
gooa hairs a piece, taken from me in despite of my
heart, besides.

19^, 1 should now come next to the Stone-fly : but
there is another gentleman in my way, that must of
necessity come in between, and that is the Geey-
Drake ; which, in all shapes and dimensions, is per-
fectly the same with the other, — but quite almost of
another colour, being of a paler, and more livid, yel-
low and green, and ribbed /with black quite down his
body ; "with black shining wings ; and so diaphanous
and tender, (cobweb like,) that they are of no manner of
use for daping : But come in, and are taken after the
green-drake, and in an artificial fly kill very well ;
which fly is thus made (/c) : the dubbing, of the down
of a hog's bristles, and black spaniel's fur, mixed ;
and ribbed, down the body, with black silk ; the
whisks, of the hairs of the beard of a black cat ; and
the wings, of the black grey feather of a mallard.

And now I come to the Stone-Fly : but am afraid,
1 have already wearied your patience; which if 1 have,

VARIATIONS.

(h) Grey-Drake. The body, of. an absolute-white ostrich feather ;
the end of the body towards the tail, of peacock's herl: warping, of an
ash-colour, with silver twist, and black hackle ; wing, of a dark grey-
feather of a mallard.

A very killing Jly^ esfedally towards tb( fvenln^ ; ivlen thejish art glutted
zaitb the green-draht^

CHAP. VII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 4.^5

I beseech you, freely tell me so,— and I will defer the
remaining instructions for fly-angling till some other
time.

Viat. No, <ruly, Sir: I can never be weary of
hearing you. But if you think fit — because, 1 am
afraid, I am too troublesome^ — to refresh yourself
with a glass and a pipe, you may afterwards proceed;
and I shall be exceedingly pleased to hear you.

Pise. I thank you, Sir, for that motion ; for, be-
lieve me, I am dry with talking. — Here, boy ! give us
here a bottle and a glass. — And , Sir, my service to you,
and to all our friends in the South.

Viat. Your servant. Sir, And I'll pledge you as
heartily ; for the good powdered -b<'ef I eat at dinner,
or something else, has made me thirsty.

liS6 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART II.

CHAPTER VIII.

FisniNG-AT-THE-Top, Continued— Files for the end
of May, and for the following Months, till De-
cember; containing^ under May, Instructions when
to dape with the Stone-flj/,

Viator.

SO ! Sir, I am now ready for another lesson, so soon
as you please to give it me.

PisC'Ju. And I, Sir, as ready to give you the

best I can. Having told you the time of the Stone-

* rh VII ^f^ coming in, and tliat he is bred of a ca-

jj ^P* * dis, in the very river where he is taken*,

•— I am next to tell you, that,

13. This same Stone-Fly has not the patience to
continue in his crust, or husk, till his wings be full

frown : but so soon as ever they begin to put out (that
e feels himself strong, at which tune we call him a
Jack) squeezes himself out of prison ; and crawls to the
top of some stone, where if he can find a chink that
will receive him — or can creep betwixt two stones, the
one lying holloAV upon the other, which, by the way,
we also lay so purposely to find them — he, there, lurks
till his wings be full grown ; and there is your only
place to find him; and from thence doubtless he de-
rives his name: though, for want of such convenience,
he will make shift with the hollow of a bank, or any
other place where the wind cannot come^^o fetch him
off. His body is long, and pretty thick, and as broad
at the tail, almost, as in the middle : his colour a very
fine brown, ribbed with yellow, and much yellower on
the belly than the back: he has two or three whisks
also at the tag of his tail, — and, two little horns upon
his head: his wings, when full grown, are double, and
flat down his back; — of the same colour, but rather

HAP. YIII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 437

darker than his body, — and longer than it, though he
makes but little use of tiicm ; for you shall rarely see
him flyings though often swimming and paddling with
several feet he has under his belly, upon the water,
without stirring a wing. But tlie Drake will mount
steeple-heiglit into the air : though he, is to be found
upon flags and grass, too, and indeed every where,
high aud low, near the river ; there being so many of
them, in their season, as were they not a very inoffen-
sive insect, would look like a plague : and these drakes
(since I forgot to tell you before, I will tell you here)
are taken by the fish to that incredible degree, that
upon a calm day, you shall see the still deeps, con-
tinually, all over circles by the fishes' rising, who
will gorge themselves with those flies, till they purge
again out of their gills*; and the Trouts are, at that
time, so lusty and strong, that one of eight or ten
inches long, will then more struggle and tug, and
more endanger your tackle, than one twice as big ia
winter : — but pardon this digression.

This Stone-fly, then, we dape or dihhle with, as
with the Drake : but with this difference, that whereas
the Green-Drake is common both to stream and still,
and to all hours of the day ; we seldom dape with
this but in the streams, (for in a whistling wind, a
made-fly, in the deep, is better,) and, rarely, but
early and late, it not being so proper for the mid-time
of the day: though a great Grayling will, then, take
it very well in a sharp stream — and, here and there,
a Trout too — but much better towards eight, nine, ten,
or eleven of the clock at night, at which time also the
best fish rise, and the later the better, provided you
can see your fly ; and when you cannot, a made-fly will
murder, which is to be made thus : the dubbing, of
bear's dun with a little brown and yellow camlet very
well mixed ; but so placed that your fly may be more

♦ 1 have caught a Trout so full of them that in taking him off the
hook, I have prest, out of his throat, a lump of them as big a& a
walnut.

438 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART II.

yellow on the belly and towards the tail, underneath,
than in any other part; and you are, to place two or
three hairs of a black cat*s beard on the top of your
hook, in your arming, so as to be turned up, when
you warp-on your dubbing", and to stand almost
upright, and staring one from another; and note,
that your fly is to be ribbed with yellow silk ; and the
wings long, and very large, of the dark-grey feather of
a mallard.

14. The next May-fly is the Black-Fly. Made
with a black body, of the whirl of an ostrich -feather,
ribbed with silver-twist; and the black hackle of a
cock over all; and is a killing fly, but not to be
named with either of the other.

15. The last May-fly that is of the four pretenders *,
is the Little Yellow May-Fly ; in shape exactly
the same with the Green-drake, but a very little one,
and of as bright a yellow as can be seen : which is
made of a bright yellow camlet, and the wings, of a
"white-grey feather dyed yellow.

16. The last fly for this month, and which con-
tinues all June, though it comes in the middle of
May ; is the fly called the Camlet-Fly — in shape
like a moth, with fine diapered, or water wings — and
with which, as 1 told you before, I sometimes used to
dibble ; and Grayling will rise mightily at it. But the
artificial fly, which is only in use amongst our anglers,
is made of a dark- brown shining camlet; ribbed over
with a very small light-green silk ; the wings, of the
double-grey feather of a mallard : and it is a killing
fly for small fish. And so much for May,

JUNE.

From the first to the four and twentieth, the Green-
drake and Stone-fly are taken, as I told you before.
1. From the twelfth to the four and twentieth, late

• See anU^ pa, 481.

CHAP. TITI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 439

at nit^bt, is taken a fly, called the Owl-fly (/) : the
dubbing, of a white weasel's tail ; and a white-grey
wing.

2. We have then another dun, called the Barm-
Fly, from its yeasty colour. The dubbing, of the
fur of a yellow-dun cat ; and a grey wing, of a mal-
lard*s feather.

5. We have also a Hackle ; with a purple body,
whipt about with a red capon's feather,

4. As also a Gold-Twist Hackle : with a purple
body, whipt about with a red capon's feather.

5. To these — we have, this month, a Flesh-Fly.
The dubbing of a black spaniel's fur, and blue wool,
mixed ; and a grey wing.

6. Also another little Flesh-Fly. The body made
of the whirl of a peacock's feather ; and the wings, of
the grey feather of a drake,

7. We have, then, the Peacock-Fly. The body
and wing, both, made of the feather of tliat bird.

8. There is also the flying-ant, or Ant-Fly, The
dubbing, of brown and red camlet mixed; with a
liglit-grey wing.

9. We have likewise a Brown Gnat ; with a very
slender body, of brown and violet camlet well mixed ;
and a light-grey wing.

10. And another little Black Gnat (w). The
dubbing, of black mohair ; and a white grey wing.

11. As also a Green-Grasshopper, The dub-
bing, of green and yellow wool mixed, ribbed over
with green silk ; and a red capon's feather over all.

VARIATIONS.

(/) White Miller, or Owl-Fly. The body, of white ostrich
herl, white hackle, and silver -twist, if you please; wing of the white
feather of a tame duck.

Taken from sunset till ten at nighty and from two to four in tbt
morning.

{m) Black Gnat. The body extremely small, of black mohair,
spaniel's [fur] or ostrich feather; wing, of the lightest part of a starling
or mallard's feather.

A very killing fy ia an eviningi after a thwer^ in rapid rivers; as in Der^
hysbire cr Wales.

c c

440 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART II.

!9. And, lastly, a little Dun Grasshopper. The
bodj slender, made of a dun €amletj and a d»a
liackle at the top.

JULY.

First, all the small flies that were taken in Jvne^ are
also taken in this month,

1. We have then the Orange Fly (w). The dub-
bing, of orange wool ; and the wing, of a black fea-
ther,

2. Also a little White Dun, The body made of
white mohair; and the wings, bine, of a heron's
feather.

3. We have likewise, this month, a Wasp Fly.
Made either of a dark brown dubbing, or else the fur
of ai black cat's tail, ribbed about with yellow silk ;
and the wing, of the grey featlier of a mallard.

4. Another fly taken this month is a Black
Hackle, The body made of the whirl of a peacock's
feather ; and a black hackle-feather, on the top.

5. We have also another. Made of a peacock's
whirl ; v/ithout wings.

6. Another fly also is taken this month, called the
Shell-Fly. The dubbing, of yellow-green Jersey
wool, and a little white hog's hair mixed ; — which f
call the palm -fly, and do believe it is taken for a
palm, that drops off" the willows into the water. For
this fly, I have seen Trouts take little pieces of moss,
as they have swam down the river ; by which I con-
clude that the best way to hit the right colour, is to
compare your dubbing with the moss, and mix the
colours as near as you can.

7. There is also taken, this month, a Black Blue

VARIATIONS.

(«) Orange-Flt. The body of raw orange silk, with a red or
black hackle ; gold twist may be added, warp with orange.

^ Taktn tvben the May-fy is almost over^ and also to the end of June., espe-
cially in hot gloomy ^tather.

CrtAP. Vltl. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 4il

Dun. The dubbing, of the fur of a black rabbet mixt
with a little yellow ; the wings, of the feather of a bliie
pigeon's win^.

AUGUST.

The same flies with Juli/,

1. Then another Ant-Fly. The dubbing, of the
black brown hair of a cow ; some red warpt-in for the
tag of his tail ; and a dark wing. A killing fly.

2. Next, a fly called the Fern-Fly. The dub-
bing, of the fur of a hare's neck, that is of the colour of
fern, or bracken ; with a darkish grey wing of a mal-
lard's feather. A killer, too.

3. Besides these we have a White Hackle. The
body, of white mohair ; and warped about with a white
hackle-feather: and this is, assuredly, taken for thistle-
down.

4. We have also, this month, a Harry-Long-Legs
(o). The body made of bear's dun, and blue wool
mixt ; and a brown hackle-feather, over all.

Lastly, In this month all the same browns and duns
are taken, that were taken in May.

SEPTEMBER.

This month, the same flies are taken that are taken
in ApriL

L To which, I shall only add a Camel-Brown
fly. The dubbing pulled out of the lime of a wall.

VARIATIONS.

(o) Harry-Long-Legs. Made of lightish bear's hair, and a dunnish
hackle; add a few hairs of light blue mohair, and a little fox-cub down:
warp with light-grey or pale-blue silk; the head, large.

Taken chiefly in a cloudy ivindy day. I have formerly y in the rivers near
London^ bad great tuceeis^ jfl^bing with a long line^ and the head of this inteet
9flly,

C C 2

442 THE COMPLETE ANGLEIl, PART II.

whipt about with red silk ; and a darkish grey mal-
lard's feather, for the wing.

2. And one other for which we have no name : but it
IS made of the black hair of a badger's skin, mixed with
the yellow softest down of a sanded hog.

OCTOBER.

The same flies are taken this month that were taken in
March,

NOVEMBER.

The same flies that were taken in Februari/^ are taken
this month also.

DECEMBER.

Few men angle with the fly this month, no more than
they do in January : but yet, if the weather be warm, aa
I have known it sometimes in my life to bo, even in this
cold country, where it is least expected, — ^then, a brown
that looks red in the hand, and yellowish betwixt your
eye and the sun, will both raise and kill in a clear water,
and free from snow-broth : but, at the best, it is hardly
worth a man's labour*.

* As the foregoing directions mention only the materials for mak-
ing the several flies, the reader may yet be at a loss both with respect to
their form and size: therefore we have, in Plate XIII. given the five
which may be considered as radical flies; and they are, the f aimer. Fig. 11,
thegreen drake, 12, \.\\edun-cut, 13, the haivtborn-fly, 14, and the ant-fiy, 15.
The two first are each a species by itself; the third is a horned fly; the
fourth has hackle under his wings ; and the fifth, as most flies of the ant-
Icind have, has a large bottle-tail ; and to one or other of these figures, it is
imagined all flies are reducible.

In adjusting their different sizes, it must be owned there is great diffi-
culty ; all that can be said is, that the figures 1 1 and 1 2, exhibit the
usujil size of the palmer, the green and grey-drake: Fig. 13, may serve

CHAP* VIII. THE COMPLETE ANGLEH. 44S

And now. Sir, I have done with Fly-fishing, or
Anglin^-at-the- top,— excepting, once more, to tell
you, That of all these, and I have named you a great
many very killing flies, none are fit to be compared
with the Drake and Stone-fly, both for many and very
great fish ; and yet there are some days, that are by no
means proper for the sport. And in a calm you shall
not have near so much sport, even with daping, as in
a whistling gale of wind ; for two reasons, both be-
cause you are not then so easily discovered by the fish,
and also because there are then but few flies that can lie
upon the water ; for where they have so much choice,
you may easily imagine they will not be so eager and
forward to rise at a bait that both the shadow of
your body, and that of your rod, nay, of your very
line — in a hot, calm day— will, in spite of your best
caution, render suspected to them : but even then — in
swift streams, or by sitting down patiently behind a
willow bush-w-you shall do more execution, than at
almost any other time of the year with any other fly :
though one may, sometimes^ hit of a day when he shall
come home very well satisfied with sport, with several

as a specimen for most flies that are not directed tq be made large ; and
when directions are given to make the fly small, the reader is to consider
Fig. 14, as an example. Gnats cannot be made too smajl.

Some, in making a fly,— work it upon and fasten it immediately to
the hook-link, whether it be of gut, grass, or hair : others whip, on the
•hank of the hook, a stifl* hog's bristle bent into a loop; and concerning
these methods there are different opinions.

I confess the latter, except for small flies, ^eems to me the more
eligible way : and it has this advantage, that it enables you to ieffi your
files in extellent order^ — to do which, string them, each species separately,
through the loops, upon a fine piece of patrgut, of about seven inched
long; and string also, therepn, through a large pin hole, a very small
ticket of parchment, with the name of the fly written on it : tie the cat-
gut into a ring : and lay them in round flat boxes, with paper between
each ring. And when you use them, having a neat loop at the lower
end of your hook?link, you may put them on and take them ofl* at
pleasure.

In the other way, you are troubled with a great length of hook-link,
Dvhich, if you put even but few flies together, is sure to tangle, and oc-
casion great trouble and loss of time. And as to an objection which
some make to a loop, that the fish see it, and therefore will not take thf
fly, you may be assured there is nothing in it.

c c 3

444f THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART If*

other flies. But with these two, the green-drake and
the stone fly, I do verily believe I could, some days
in my life, had I not been weary of slaughter, have
loaden a lusty boy ; and have sometimes, I do
honestly assure you, given over upon the mere account
of satiety of sport ; which will be no hard matter to
believe, when I likewise assure you, that with this
very fly, I have, in this very river that runs by us,
in three or four hours, taken thirty, five-and-thirty,
and forty of the best Trouts in the river. What
shame and pity is it then, that such a river should be
destroyed, by the basest sort of people, by those un-
lawful ways of fire and netting in the night, and of
damming, groping, spearing, hanging, and hooking
by day ; which are now grown so common, that
though we have very good laws to punish such offend-
ers, every rascal does it, for aught i see, imptine.

To conclude, I cannot now, in honesty, but frankly
tell you, that many of these flies I have named, at least
so made as we make them here, will preadventure do
you no great service in your Southern rivers * : and
will not conceal from you, but that I have sent flies to
several friends in London, that for aught 1 could ever
hear, never did any great feats with them ; and there-
fore if you intend to profit by my instructions, you

* The reader may rest assured, that with some or other of these flies
.—especially with the .palmers or hackles, the great dun, dark-broivn, early
(and late) bright-brotun, the black-gnat, yellow-dun, great ivhirling-dun, dun'
tut, gredn and grey-drake, camlet-Jly, coiv-dung-fly, little ant-Jly, badger-Jty^
and fern-jly — he shall catch Trout, Grayling, Chub, and Dace, in any
water in England or Wales; always remembering, that in a strange
water, he first tries the plain, gold, silver, and peacock-hackle. Of the
truth of this,; he need not doubt, when he is told, that, in the year
1754, a gentleman, now living — who went into Wales to fish with the
flies, last above-mentioned, made as above is directed — did, in about six
weeks' time, kill near a thousand brace of Trout and Grayling ; as appear-
ed to him by an account, in writing, which he kept of each day's success.
In confirmation whereof, and as a proof how the rivers in Wales abound
with fish, the reader will find in the- Appendix, No. V. a like account,
kept by another person, of fish, to astonishing amount, caught by him, i»
a series of years, in some of the Welsh rivers ; which account was seni^
by him to Mr. Bartholomew Lowe, fishmg-tackle-maker, in Drury-laneji
24th Feb, 1766, and is inserted in his own words. '

GHAP. VIII. THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 445

must come to angle with me here in the Peak. And
so, if you please, let us walk up to supjjer ; and to-
morrow, if the day be windy, as our days here com-
monly are, 'tis ten. to one but we shall take a good dish
of fish for dinner.

cc 4

446 THE COMPLETE ANGLEU, PART Ui

CHAPTER IX.

Flj/'fishingy in winch/ weather y best in the Still*'
Deeps.

PiSCATOR-JuNIOR.

A GOOD day to you, Sir ; I see you will always be
stirring before me.

Viat, Why, to tell you the truth, I am so allured
with the sport I had yesterday, that I long to be at the
river again ; and when I heard the wind sing in my
chamber window, could forbear no longer, but leap
out of bed ; and had just made an end of dressing my-
self as you came in.

Pise, Well! I am both glad you are so ready for
the day, and that the day is so fit for you. And look
you ! I have made you three or four flies, this morn-
ing ; this silver- twist hackle, this bear's dun, this
light brown, and this dark brown ; any of which I
dare say will do : but you may try them all, and see
which does best. Only, I must ask your pardon,
that I cannot wait upon you this morning, a little bur
siness being fallen out, that for two or three hours,
will deprive me of your company : but Fll come
and call you home to dinner ; and my man shall at-
tend you.

Viat, Oh I Sir, mind your aflfairs by all means.
Do but lend me a little of your skill to these fine flies,
and, unless it have forsaken me since yesterday, I shall
find luck of my own, I hope, to do something.

Pise, The best instruction I can give you, is, That^
seeing the wind curls the water, and blows the right
way, you would now angle up the still deep to-day ;
for betwixt the rocks where the streams are, you would
find it now too brisk ; and besides, I would have you
take fish in both waters.

CHAP, IX. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 44f

Viat. I'll obey your direction; and so a good
morning to you. — Come, young man! let you and I
walk together. — But hark you, Sir, I have not done with
you yet; I expect another lesson for AngUng?at-the?
bottom, in the afternoon.

J^isc. \yell, Sir, Til be ready for yqi;.

44S THE COMPLETE ANGLER* PART II.

CHAPTER X.

Directions how to dress a Trout and Grayling.

PiSCATOR-JuNIOR.

OH ! Sir^ are you returned ? you kave but just pre*
Teiitcdme. I was coming to call you.

Viat, I am glad then I have saved you the labour.

Pise, And how have you sped ?

Viat, You shall see that. Sir, presently ; look you,

♦ Sioic like a ^^^^ here are three* brace of Trouts, one
S^uth Countrynal. ^^ t^iem the bio^gest but one that ever I
kill'd with a fiy in my life ; and ^^i I
lost a bigger than that, with my fly to-boot ; and here
are three Graylings, and one of them longer by some
inches than that I took yesterday, and yet I thought
tfcat a good one too.

Pise, Why you have made a pretty good morn-
ing's work on't ; and now, Sir, what think you of our
river Dove ?

Viat. I think it to be the best Trout-river in Eng-
land ; and am so far in love with it, that if it were mine,
and that I could keep it to myself, — I would not ex-
change that water, for all the land it runs over, to be
totally debarred from it.

Pise. That compliment to the river, speaks you a
f nie lover of the art of angling. And now, Sir, to make
part of amends for sending you, so uncivilly, out alone
Ibis morning, I will myself dress you this dish of fish^
for your dinner : walk but into the parlour, you will
find one book or other in the window, to entertain you
the while : and you shall have it presently.

ViaU Well, Sir, I obey you.

Pise. Look you J Sir, have I not made haste?

CHAP. X. THE COMPLETE ANGIEE. 44^

Viat. Believe me. Sir, that you have ; and it looks
go well, I long to be at it.

Pise, Fall to then ; — now, Sir, what say you, am I
a tolerable cook or no ?

Viat» So good a ope, tliat I did never eat so good
fish in my life. This fish is infinitely better than any I
ever tasted of the kind in my life, ; 'tis quite anothei:
Ihinfi^, than our Trouts about London.

Pise. You would say so, if that Trout you eat of
were in right season : but pray eat of the Grayling,
which, upon my word, at this time, is by much the bet-
ter fish.

Viat, In earnest, and so it is. And I have one re-
quest to make to you, '^hich is, that as you have taught
me to catch Trout and Grayling, you will now teach
me how to dress them as these are drest, which, ques-
tionless, is of all other the best way.

Pise, That I will. Sir, with all my heart ; and an|
glad you like them so wel{ as to make that request^
And they are drest thus :

Take your Trout; wash, and dry him with a clean
napkin ; then open him, and having taken out his guts,
and all the blood, wipe him very clean within, but wash
him not ; and give him three scotches, with a knife, to
the bone, on one side only. After which take a cleaij
kettle, and put in as much hard stale beer, (but it must
not be dead,) vinegar, and a little white wine and water,
as will cover the fish you intend to boil : then throw
into the liquor a good qnantity of salt, the rind of a
lemon, a handful of sliced horse-radish-root, with a
handsome little faggot of rosemary, thyme, and winter^
savory. Then set your kettle upon a quick fire of
wood : and let your liquor boil up to the height before
you put in your fish : and then, if there be many, put
them in one by one, that they may not so cool the li-
quor as to make it fall. And whilst your fish is boiling,
beat up the butter for your sauce with a ladle-fiill or
two of the liquor it is boiling in. And being boiled
enough, immediately pour the liquor from the fish :
and being laid in a dish, pour your butter upon it ; and

450

tHE COMPLETE ANGLER,

PART II,

strewing it plentifully over with shaved horse-radish,
and a little pounded ginger, garnish your sides of your
dish, and the fish itself, with a sliced lemon or two ;
and serve it up.

A Grayling is also to be drest exactly after the same
manner; saving that he is to be scaled, which a Trout
never is, — and that must be done either with one's nails,
er very lightly and carefully with a knife, for fear of
bruising the fish. And note, that these kinds of fish,
a Trout especially, if he is not eaten within four or five
tours after he be taken, is worth nothing.

But come, Sir, I see you have dined; and therefore if
you please, we will walk down again to the little house ;
and there I will read you ^ lecture, of Angling-at?the-
jbottom.

THE COMI»LEtE ANGtfiR. 431

CHAPTER XI.

Of Angling-at-the-Bottom for Trout or Graj/ting
' — by hand, with a ruaning liaQ-^wllh a cork or
float. Various baits.

Viator*
SOj Sir, now we are here, and set, — let me have mj
instructions for Angling, for Trout and Grayling, at-
the-bottom • which though not so easy, so cleanly, nor,
as 'tis said, so genteel a way of fisliing as with a fly, is
yet, if I mistake not, a good holding way, and takes
fish when nothinsr else wilL

Pisc.'Ju. You are in the right, it does so s and
a worm is so sure a bait, at all times, that, excepting ia
a flood, I would I had laid f me] a thousand pounds
that I did not kill fish, more or less with it, winter or
summer, every day throughout the year ; those dayg
always excepted, that upon a more serious account
always ought so to be. But not longer to delay you,
I will begin : and tell you, that Angling-at-the-bottora
is also, commonly, of two sorts ; and yet there is a third
way of anglinc with a ground-bait, and to very great
effect too, as snail be said hereafter, namely, by hand,
or with a cork or float.

That we call Angling by hand, is of three sorts.
The first, with a line about half the length of the rod,
a good weighty plumb, and three hairs next the hook,
which we call a running-line; and with one large
brandling, or a dew worm of a moderate size — or two
small ones of the first, or any other sort proper for] a
Trout, of which my father Walton has already given you.
the names, and saved me a labour — or indeed, almost
any worm whatever; for if a Trout be in the humour
to bite, it must be such a worm as I never yet saw, that
he will refuse. And if you fish with two, you are then

452 rttE i;oMPtETE angles. part ir.

lobait your hook thus : You are, first, to run the point
of your hook in at the very head of your first worm,
and so down through his body, till it be past the knot,
—and, then, let it out : and strip [slip] the worm above
the arming, that you may not bruise it with your
fingers ; till you have put on the cither, by running
the point of the hook in below the knot, and upwards
through his body towards his head, till it be but just
covered with the head ; which being done, you are
then to slip the first worm down over the arming again,
till the knots of both worms meet together.

The second way of angling by hand, and with a run-
ning-line,— is with a line something longer than the
former, and with tackle made after this same manner :
At the utmost extremity of your line, where the hook is
always placed in all other ways of angling, you are to
have a large pistol (or carbine) bullet, into which the
end of your line is to be fastened — with a peg, or pin — •
even and close with the bullet ; and, about half a foot
above that, a branch of line, of two or three handfuls
long, (or more for a swift stream,) with a hook at the
end thereof, baited with some of the forenaraed worms ;
and, another half foot above that, another armed and
baited after the same manner, — btit with another sort of
worm, without any lead at all above*: by which means,
you will, always, certainly find the true bottom in all
depths ; which with the plumbs upon your line above,
you can never do, but that your bait must always drag
— whilst you are sounding, which in this "^^ay of angling
rnust be' continually — ^by which means you are like to
have more trouble, and, peradventure, worse success.
And both these ways of angling-at-thc-bottom are most
proper for a dark and muddy water ; by reason, that in
such a condition of the stream, a man may stand as near
as he will, and neither his own shadow, nor the round-
ness of his tackle, will hinder his sport,

The third way of angling by hand with a ground-bait,
and by much the best of all other^ is, — -with a line full
as long, or a yard and half longer than your rod ; with
no more than one hair next the hook, and for two or
three lengths above it 3 and no more than one small

€HAP. XI. THE COMPLETE ANGLER* 453

pellet of shot for your plumb ; your hook, littlo ; your
worms,' of the smaller brandlings very well scoured ; and
only one upon your hook at a time, which is thus to be
baited : The point of your hook is to be put in, at the
Tcry tag of his tail, and run up his body quite-over all
the arming, and still stript on an inch at least upon tlic
hair ; the head and remaining part hanging downward.
And with this line and hook thus baited j you are ever-»
more to angle in the streams ; always in a clear, rath<a:
than a troubled water; and always up the river ; still
casting out your worm before you— with a light one-
handed rod, like an artificial fly — wliere it will be taken,
sometimes at the top (or within a very little of the su-
perficies) of the water, and, almost always, before that
light plumb can sink it to the bottom ; both by reason
of the stream, and also that you must always keep your
worm in motion by drawing [itj still back towards you,
as if you were angling with a fly. And, believe me,-
whoever will try it, shall find this the best way of all
other to angle with a worm,^ — in a bright water, espe-
cially. But then his rod must be very light and pliant,
and very true and finely made; which, with a skilful
hand, will do wonders ; and in a clear stream is un-
doubtedly the best way of angling for a Trout or Gray-
ling with a worm, by many degrees, that any man cati
make choice of, and of most ease a;nd delight to the
angler. To which let me add, that if the angler be of
a constitution that will sufler him to wade ; and will slip^
into the tail of a shallow stream, to the calf of the leg
or the knee, and so keep off the bank, he shall almost
take what fish he pleases.

The second way of Angling-at-the-bottom, is— with a;
cork ox fioat. And that is also of two sorts; with a
worm, or with a grub or cadis.

With a worm i You are to have your line within a
foot, or a foot and half, as long as your rod ; in a dark
water, with two, or if you will with three— but, in a
clear water, never with- above one — hair next the hook,
and two or three, for four or five lengths above it : and
a worm, of what size you please; your plumbs fitted to
your eork ; your cork to the condition of the river, that

4S4 tHE COMPLfcTE ANGLEiti FAttT !!•

is, to the swiftness or slowness of it ; and both j when the
tpater is very clear, as fine as you can, — and then you
are never to bait with above one of the lesser sort of
fcrandlinjEfs; or, if they are very little ones indeed^ you
may then bait with two, after the manner before di*
rected. <

» When you angle for a Trout ; you are to do it as
deep, that is, as near the bottom as you can^ provided
your bait do not drag — or, if it do, a Trout will some*
times take it in that posture. If for a Grayling, you
are then to Gsh further from the bottom ; he being a fish
that usually swims nearer to the middle of the water,
and lies always loose ; or however is more apt to rise
than a Trout, and more inclined to rise, than to descend
even to a ground-bait.

With a Grub, or Cadis : You are to angle with the
»ame length of line, or, if it be all out as long as your
rod, 'tis not the worse; with never above one hair, for
two or three lengths next the hook ; and with the small-
est cork, or float ; and the least weight of plumb you
can that will but sink, and that the swiftness of your
stream will allow, — which also you may help, and
avoid the violence of the current, by angling in the
returns of a stream, or the eddies betwixt two streams ;
which also are the most likely places, wherein to kill a
fish in a stream, either at the top or bottom.

Of grubs: For a Grayling, — the ash-grub, which is
plump, milk-white, bent round from head to tail, and
exceeding tender, with a red head, — or the dock- worm
(or grub) of a pale yellow; longer, lanker, and tougher
than the other ; with rows of feet all down his belly ; and
a red head also, — are the best; I say for a Grayling, be-
cause, although a Trout will take both these, the ash-
grub especially, yet he does not do it so freely as the
other,— and I have usually taken ten Graylings for one
Trout with that bait : though if a Trout come, I have
observed, that he is commonly a very good one.

These baits we usually keep in bran ; in which an ash-
grub commonly grows tougher, and will better endure
baiting ; though he is, yet, so tender, that it will be ne-
cessary to warp-in a piece of a stiff hair with your

I

e^AP* X,I. THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 4^5$

arraiijig, leaving it standing out about a straw-breadtli
at the head of your hook, — so as to keep the grub eithgi;
6:0m slipping totally off when baited, or at least down to
the point of the liook, by wliich means your arming
will be left wholly naked and bare, which is neither so
sightly, nor so likely to be taken : though to help that,
which will however very oft fall out, I always arm the
liook I design for this bait with the whitest horse-hair I
can choose ; which, itself, will resemble, and shine like
that bait, and consequently will do more good, or less
harm, than an arming of any other colour. These griib^
are to be baited thus : the hook is to be put in under th(?
head or chaps of the bait, and guided down the middle
of the belly, (without suifering it to peep out by the
way ; for then the ash-grub, especially, will issue out
water and milk, till notliiiiff but the skin shall remain ;
ajid the bend of the hook will appear black through it,)
till the j)ointof your hook come so low that the Iiead of
your bait may rest, and stick upon the hair that stands
out to hold it ; by which means it can neither slip of
itself, neither will the force of the stream— nor quicl^
pulling out, upon any mistake — strip it off.

Now the cadis, or cod-bait, which is a sure killing
bait, and for the most part, by much surerthan either of
the other ; may be put upon the hook, two or three
together ; and is sometimes, to very great effect, joined
to a worm — and sometimes, to an artificial Ay^^to
cover the point of your hook : but is always to be angled
with, at the bottom, when by itself especially, with the
finest tackle; and is, for all times of the year, the
most holding bait of all other whatever, both for
Trout and Grayling.

There are several other baits, besides these few I have
named you, which also do very great execution at the
bottom ; and some that arc peculiar to certain countries
and rivers, of which every angler may in his own place
make his own observation ; and some others that I do
not think fit to put you in mind of, because I would not
corrupt you, and would have you, as in all things else I
observe you to be a very honest gentleman^ a fair angler,

P D

456 tHE COMPLETE angleh. ^ art 11.

And so much for the second sort of Angling for a Trout
at the bottom.

Viat, But, Sir, I beseech you give me leave to ask
you one question : Is there no art to be used to wormsj
to make them allure the fish, and in a manner compel
them to bite at the bait ?

Pise. Noj- that I know of; or did I know any such
secret, I would not use it myself, and therefore would
not teacli it you. Though I will not deny to you, that
in my younger days, I have made trial of oilofospray,
oil of ivy, camphire, assa-fcetida, juice of nettles, and
several other devices that I was taught by several anglers
I met with : but could never find any advantage by
them ; and can scarce Ixilieve there is any thing to be
done that way : though, 1 must tell you, I have seen
some men, w ho I thought went to work no more arti-
ficially than I, and have yet — with the same kind of
worms I had — in my own sight, taken five, and some-
times ten to one. But we'll let that business alone, if
you please. And because we have time enough ; and
that I would deliver you from the trouble of any more
lectures ; I will, if you please, proceed to the last way
of Angling for a Trout or Grayling, which is — In-the-
niiddte^ after which, I shall have no more to trouble
you Willi-

Viat* 'Tis no trouble, Sir, but the greatest satisfac-
i'wn that can be ; and 1 attend you.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 457

CHAPTER XII.

Q/ANGLiNG-iN-THE-MiDDLE/or Tfout or Grayling*,

PiSCATOR-JuNIOR.

ANGLING-ia-the-middle, then, for a Trout or
Graylinff, is of two sorts : with a pink or minnow
for a Trout ; or with a worm, grub, or cadis for a
Grayling.

For the first. It is with a minnow ; half a foot, or a
foot, within the superficies of the water. And as to the
rest that concerns this sort of angling, I shall wholly
refer you to Mr. Walton's directions ; who is undoubt-
edly the best angler with a minnow in England : only,
in plain trutli, 1 do not approve of those baits he keeps
in saltt, unless where the living ones are not pos-
sibly to be had ; though I know he frequently p^/Jg4*
kills with them, and, perad venture, more than
with any other — nay, I have seen him refuse a living
one for one of them. And much less [do I approve] of
his artificial one J ; for though we do it witn a
counterfeit fly, methinks, it should hardly be L'!^i^l\
expected, that a man should deceive a fish with
a counterfeit fish. Which having said, I shall only
add, (and that, out of my own experience,) that I do
believe a bull-head, [millers-thumb,] with his gill-fins
cut off, at some times of the year especially, to be a
much better bait for a Trout than a minnow ; and a
loach much better than that; to prove which, I shall
only tell you, that I have much oftencr taken Trouts
with a bull-head, or a loach, in their throats, (for there
a Trout has questionless his first digestion,) than amin«

* And mark what is said in pa. 454, respecting fishing for Grayliag*
ferther from the bottom than a Trout.

D D 2

45^ T&t COMPLfifE ANGLEA. PART II.

now ; and that, one day especially, having angled a
good part of the day with a minnow, (and that in as
hopeful a day, and as fit a water, as could be wished for
that purpose,) without raising any one fish, — I at last
fell to it with the worm ; and, with that, took fourteen
in a very short space; amfofigst all which, there was
not, to my remembrance, so much as one, that had not
a loach or two, and some of them three, four, five^ and
six loaches, in his throat and stomach; from whence I
concluded, that had I angled with that bait, I had made
a notable day's work of it.

But after all, there is a better way of anglmg wifh a
minnow, than perhaps is fit either to teach or to prac-
tise. ^0 which, I shall only add, that a Gra?/Hng\f\!^
certainly rise at, and sometimes take a minnow; though
it will be hard to be believed by any one, who shall
consider the littleness of that fish's mouth, very unfit to
take so great a bait : but is affirmed by many, that he
will sometimes do it ; and I myself know it to be true,—
for though I never took a Grayling so, yet a man of
mine once did ; and within so few paces of me, that I
am as certain of it, as I can be of any thing I did not
see. And, which made it appear the more strange, th«
Grayling was not above eleven inches long,

I must here also beg leave of your master, and mine
— not to controvert, but to tell him, that I cannot con-
sent to his way of throwing in his rod to an over-grown
Trout; and afterwards recovering his fish, with his
tackle. For though I am satisfied he has sometimes
done it, because he says so, yet I have found it quite
otherwise. And though I have taken with the angle, (I
may safely say) some thousands of Trouts in my life ;
my top never snapt — though my line still continued
fast, to the remaining part of my rod, by some lengths
of line curled round about my top, and there fastened,
with waxt silk, against such an accident ; nor my hand
never slackt, or sfipt by any other chance — but I almost
always infallibly lost my fish, whetluir great or little ;
though my hook came home again. And I have often
wondered— how a Trout should so suddenly disengage
himself from so great a hook, as that we bait with a

CHAP. XII. THE ^OJVIPI.ETE ANGLER. 459

miia»ow, auti so cTecp bea,rded, 03 those Looks coi»-
monly are — wk^ I Jiave sceij., by tijie fore-named acci-
dents, or the siipping of a knot in the upper part of the
liwe, by guddea and hard striking, that though the line
has imaatediately been recovered, ahnost before it could
be all drawn into tte water,) the fis»U cleaned and gone
ia a moment. And yei^to justify what he says-^I liavc
sometimes known a Trout, having carried away a whole
line, found dead, three or four day^ after, with the
hook fa»t sticking in hiia : l>ut theia it is to be »uppase4
he had gorged it ; which a Trout will ^o, if you be not
too quick with him when be comes at a minnow, as sure
a^nd much sooaear thain a Pike. And I myself have also,,
once or twice in my life, taken the same fish with my
own fly, sticking in his chaps, that he had taken from
me, the day before, by the slipping of a hook in the
arming. But I am very confident, a Trout will not be
troubled two hours with any hook, that has so much as
one liandfid of line left behind with it, or that is not
struck through a bone, if it be in any part of his mouth
only : nay, I do certainly know, tliat a Trout, so soon
as ever he feels himself prickt, if he carries away the
hook, goes immediately to the bottom ; and will there
root, like a hog upon the gravel, till he either rub out,
or break the hook in the middle. And so much for
this first sort of angling-in-the-middle for a Trout.

The second way of Angling-in-the-middle, is — with
a worm, grub, cadis, or any other ground-bait— for a
Grayling. And that is : with a cork ; and a foot from
tlie bottom, a Grayling taking it much better there than
at the bottom, as has been said before. And this, al-
ways in a clear water ; and with the finest tackle.

To which we may also, and with very good reason,
add the third way of angling-by-hand with a ground-
bait; as a third way of fishing-in-the-middle, which is
common to both Trout and Grayling, and as 1 said be-
fore, the best way of angling with a w orm, of all other
I ever tried \Vhatever.

And now. Sir, I Jiave said all I can at present think
of concerning Angling for a Trout and Grayling, and
I doubt not have tired you sufficiently : but I will give
DD 3

460 THE COMPLETE ANGLER. PART II.

you no more trouble of this kind, whilst you stay,
which I hope will be a good while longer.

Viat. That will not be above a day longer. But if
I live till May come twelvemonth, you are sure of me
again, either with my master Walton, or without him ;
and, in the mean time, shall acquaint him how much you
have made of me for his sake, and I hope he loves me
well enough to thank you for it.

Pise, I shall be glad, Sir, of your good company at
the time you speak of : and shall be loath to part with
you now ; but when you tell me you must go, I will
then wait upon yon more miles on your way, than I
have tempted you out of it ; and heartily wish you a
good journey.

[ m ]

A SHORT

. BISCOURSE

BY WAY or

POSTSCRIPT,

TOUCHING THE

LAWS OF ANGLING*.

My good Friend,

I CANNOT but tender my paiticulav tbanks to you ;
for that you have been pleased, by three editions of
your Complete Angler, freely to dispense your
dear bought ex|3eriences to all the lovers of that art :
and have thereby so excellently vindicated the legality
thereof^ as to divine approbation^ that if I should go
about to say more in that behalf, it indeetl were to light
a candle to the sun. But since all pleasures (though
never so innocent in themselves) lose that stamp, when
they are either pursued with inordinate affections, — or
to the prejudice of another ; therefore, as to the former,
every man ought to endeavour, through a serious con-
sideration of the vanity of worldly contentments, to
moderate his affections thereunto : whereby they may

♦ This Discourse was first published with, and was printed at the end
of the^ Third Edition of Walton's book: but, as the subject matter of
it does as well relate to Cotton's Part as the other, it was thought prober
to transpose it,

1) D 4

462 - THE LAWS OF ANGLING.

be made of excellent use, as some poisons allayed afe in
physick : and, as to the latter, we are to have recourse
to the known laws ; ignorance whereof excuseth no man ;
and, therefore, by their directions, so to square our ac-
tions, that we hurt no man, — ^but keep close to that
golden rule, To do to all men, as we would ourselves be
done unto.

Now concerning the Art of Angling, we may con-
clude. Sir, tliat as you have proved it to be of great
antiquity, so I find it favoured by the laws of this king-
dom ; for where provision is made by our Statutes
primo jElizab. cap. 17; against taking fish by nets that
be not of such and such a size there set down, — yet,
those law-makers had so much respect to anglers, as to
except them, and, leave them at liberty to catch as big
as they could, and as little as they would, catch. And
yet, though this Apostolical recreation be, simply in it-
self, lawful, — ^yet ho man can go, upon another man's
ground to fish, without his licence, but that he is a
trespasser. But if a man have licence to enter into a
close or ground, for such a space of time, — there, though
he practise angling all that time, he is not a trespasser,
because his fishing is no abuse of his licence : but this
is tobe understood of running streams, and not of ponds
or standing pools; for in case of a pond or standing
pool, tlie owner thereof hath u property in the fish, and
tbey are so far said to be his, that he may have trespass,
for the fish, against anyone that shall take them without
Lis licence, though it be upqn^a common, or adjoining
to the kind's highway, or adjoining to another man*s
ground who gives licence. But in case of a river,
•where one or more have libera piscaria only, it is
otherwise ; for there the fishes are said to be/era? natind ;
and the taking of them with an angle is not trespass,
for that no man is said to have a property in them till
he have caught them ; and then it is a trespass for any
to take tiliem from him. But this is not to be under-
Stood of fishes confined to a hian's own ground, by gates
or othei'wise, ' so iliit they cannot pass away biit may be
taken out or put in at pleasure; for, in that case, the

THE LAWS OF ANGLING. - 463

*party hath a property in them, as iu Ihe case of a stand-
ing pool.

But "vvherc any one hath separalzs piscaria, as in
Child and GreenhiWs Case in Trin, 15 ^^Cro.sss,
^ar, 1. in the King's-Bench, — there, it
seemeth that the fish may be said to be his, because no
man else may take them whilst they are within his se-
n^eral-hshing. Therefore, what is meant by a several-
fishing is necessary to be considered. And though the
difference between a free-fishing and a several-fishing,
be often treated of in the antient books of the Law ; and
«^ome opinions will have the difl'erence to be great, and
others small, or nothmg at all ; yet the certainest defi-
nition of a several-fishing is, 'Where one hath theroy-
* alty, and owneth the ground on eacli side o/ the
' water ;* which agreeth with Sir fVil-
Ham Calihorp's case. Where an action fS'^;|J^ il'l;
Was brought by him against another, for 4, 4.
fishing in his several-fishing, d^w to which
the defendant pleaded. That the place wherein the
'trespass was supposed to be done conlahied ten perches
of land in length, and tweilty perches iu breadth, which
"Was his own freehold at the time when the trespass
■was supposed to be done, and that he fished there
as was lawful for him to do; and this was ad-
judged a good plea by the whole court : And upon
argument in that very ease, it vas agreed, That n6
man could hnye a sever al^shing but in his own soil,
and iXi'di free-jishing may be in the soil of another
MAN ? Which was all agreed unto by Littleton, our
famous English lawyer. So that from all this, may be
drawn this short conclusion, That if the angler take
care that he oftend not with his feet, there is -no great
danger of his hands.

But there are some covetous rigid persons— ^wliose
souls hold no sympathy with those of the innocent
anglers — having either got to be lords of royalties, or
owners of lands adjoining to rivers; and these do, by
some apted clownish nature and education for the pur-
pose, insult and domineer over the innocent angler,—

4iM THE LAWS OF ANGLING,

bpatifig him ; breaking his rod, or at least taking If
from him*; and sometimes imprisoning his person, as
i£ke were a felon. Whereas a true-bred gentleman
scorns those spider^like attempts ; and "svill rather rc-
fresii a civil stranger at his table, than warn him fro^a
coming on his ground upon so innocent an occasion.
It should therefore be considered, How far such furious
dsivers are warranted by the law ; and what the angler
may (in case of such violence) do in defence of him-
self. If I come upon another man's ground without
his licence, or the licence of the law, I am a trespasser,
ibr which the owner may have an action of trespass
against me : And if I continue, there, after warning
to ilepart by the owner, or his servant thereunto au-
thorized, the owner, or his servant by hi^ (command,
may put me off by force, — but not beat me, but in case
of resiatance by me, for then I (by resisting) make the
assault f but if he beat me, I not resisting, — in that
case, he cnakes the assault, Jind I may beat hint, in
defence of myself, and to free myself from his vio-
lence t. Aud in easel shall leave my rod behind in
his ground, l.»e may take it damage feasant : but lie
can neither take it from my person by force, nor break
it, but he is a trespasser to me. Which seems clear
by v^he case oiBeynell and Champernon;
Cro^Car^288.* ^^^^^<^ Reynell brought an action of tres-
pass against Champernon, for taking and
cutting his nets : the defendant justified, for that he

* There is no reading this passage without figuring to one's imagi-
nation the poor, humble, patiettt angler, standing still and defenceless,
while the merciless lord of the tnanor is laying him on with a stick, per-
haps the butt of his own rod, or a worse weapon. I will not dispute
with the author, whether the meekness and submission of the poor fisher
upon this occasion are yery becoming or not ; but this sort of passive
valour is rather to be admired than imitated. Yet has the angler his
remedy, as the reader will see a few lines below.

f Agreeable to the rule contained in this barbarous distich :
Res dare pro rebusj pro verbis verba solemus^
Pro bujisy bufasy pro trufis redder e trttfas.
Things must be recompenst with things, buffets with blowes,
Aiid words with words, and taunts with mocks and mowes.

Dattous Country Justice, Chap, 72,

THE LAWS OF ANGLING. 485

tvas seized-In-fee of a several-fishing ; and that thei
plaintiff with others endeavoured to row upon his wa*
ter, and with the nets to catch his fish ; and that for
the safe-guard of his fishing he took and cut the nets
and oars : To which plea, the plaintiff demurred :
Andj there, it was adjudged by the whole court, that
he could not, by such colour, cut the nets and oars ;
and judgment was thereupon given for the plaintiff.

Doubtless, our forefathers well considered, that man
to man was a wolf*; and therefore niade good laws
to keep us from devouring one another, — and, amongst
the rest, a very good Statute was made in the three"
and'fortieth year of Queen Elizabeth ; whereby it is
provided, that in personal actions in the courts at
Westminster^ (being not for land, or battery,) when
it shall appear to the judges, (and be so by them sig-
nified,) that the debt or damages to be recovered
amount not to the sura of forty shillinsfs or above, the
said judges shall award to the plaintiff no more costs
than damages — but less, at their discretion.

And now, with my acknowledgment of the advan-
tage I have had both by your friendship and your
BOOK, — I wish nothing may, ever, be that looks like
an alteration in the first : nor any thing in the last,
unless, by reason of the useful pleasure of it, you had
called it, the Arcadia of Angling ; for it deserves
that title : and I would deserve the continuance of your
friendship.

Since the writing the foregoing discourse, — the laws
of this country, relative to fish and fishing, have un-
dergone such alterations as would, alone, justify an
addition to it : but as it has, of late, been objected, to
all laws that assign an exclusive right in any of the
creatures of God to particular ranks or orders of men,

* A melancholy truth so universally acknowledged as to have given
occasion 'to the proverb, Homo homini lupus. Fide Erami * Adagia^

466 THE LAWS OF AKC^INO.

that they savour of barbarism, and are calculated to
serve the purposes of tyranny and ambition ; it was
thought necessary to trace the matter fartlier back, and
shew from whence laws of this kind derive their force.
And though it is not imagined that speculative argu-
ments will operate upon men of licentious principles,—
yet as the general tenor of this work supposes the
angler to be endued with reason, and under the domi-
nion of conscience, it may not be amiss, To state the
obligation he is under to an observance of such laws.,
and to point out to him the several instances where
he cannot pursue his recreation without the fisque of
his quiet.

Property is, universally, allowed to be founded on
occupancy ; the very notion of which implies in*
dustry, or some act in the occupant, of which no
stranger has a right to avail himself: he that first
took possession of an uncultivated tract of land, pro-
vided it was no more than necessary for the subsistence
of himself and his family, became thereby the proprie-
tor of such land.

Mr. Locke iilustrateg this doctrine by an elegant
instance : " The water running in the fouaUiin," says
he, " is every one's ; but that in the pitcher is lu»,only,
" who draws it." On Go-ce^mient^ Uook ZI. Chap. V*
Sect. 20.

And if this reasoning be admitted in the case of laud,
which is ranked among the immoveable objects of
property ; it is much stronger in favour of things
moveable, tlie right of which is, at once, claimed—
and fortified — ^by an actual possession, and separation
from that common mass in which they were originally
supposed to exist.

But notwithstanding the innumerable ap[wopriatioHS
which, in the present civilized state of the world, ap^
peaj to have been made, there are many things which
may yet be said to be in common, and in a state
gf natural liberty ; in this class, we may rank ciea*
lures ferce naturd ; beasts of chace, many kinds
of fowl, and all fish. TIis fisherman i.n Plautus
admits, that none of the fi§h were hb^ while jfiicj^

THE tAWS OF ATJGLINC. 4&?

remaiTYed in their proper element ; and insists, only, on
his right to those which he had caught : Rudens^ AcC
4, Scene 3. And both the Jewish and Roman lawyers
assert, that wild beasts and fish belong only to those
who take them *.

This notion has* led many persons to imagine, that,
even now, there subsists a general community of these
creatures ; and that, at this day, every one has a right
to take them to his own use wherever he finds them.
Not to insist, that if all men promiscuously were per-
mitted the exercise of this right, it would be of very
Kttle benefit to any, — it may suffice to say, that there
are few civilized countries that haye not found it ne-
cessary— either for promoting some public good, or
averting some public mischief — to controul it, by ex-
press prohibitions : And how far such prohibitions are
deemed lawful, and binding on the consciences of those
on whom they are imposed, will appear by consulting
the authorities in the marginf. And it is worth not-
ing, that laws made to prohibit the taking, of crea-
tures f€7(B naturd, by persons unqualified, — do not
take from a m^m any tiling which is his own ; but
they barely forbid the use of certain methods of ac-
quisition, which the law of nature might, perhaps,
allow of. PuffendorfF de Jure Nat. 4r Gent. Lib, IV.
€ap. 6. § 6 J.

Agreeable to the principles here laid down, — we find,
that the laws of most countries, at least of this, have

* Seldfen De Jnye Nat. ts* Gent.juieta Discip. Ebraor. Lib. IV. Cap. 4-.
Instit. Lib. II. Tit. 1, De rerum divisione \5f acquirendo earum Dominion
Hcwever; this is to be understood only in cases wherein there is no
law to forbid it. Grot. De Jure Belli ac Pach^ Lib. II. Cap. 2. § 5,

t PuffendorfF Dt Jure Nat. Isf Gent. Lib. IV. Cap. 6. § 6. Gudelin
I>e Jure Navwmo, Lib. II. Cap. 2. D. Lib. XLI. Tit. 2. De acquis
tend, vel amiUend. Possess. See also Garcilasso de la Vega, Comm. Reg..
Lib. VI. Cap. VI. Where it is said, that in Peru, hunting, by the
inferior sort, is prohibited, lest, says the author, " men betaking
" themselves to the pleasure of the field, should delight in a continued
•* course of sports, and so neglect the necessary provision and maintenance
«» of their families."

\ See also Arnold. Vinn. wi Stet, 13^ De JRcr, Dhis.: and Zieglfr on
Gretm: Lib, II. Cap. 2, § 5,

46B THE LAWS OF ANGLING.

assigned the property in the creatures in question to
particular persons. Thus, to royal fish— which are
Whales and Sturgeons — the king is entitled, by his
prerogative,* : And the property of fish in rivers, or
at least, aright to take them, is, in many places, given
to corporations ; as, with us, the fishery of the river
Thames is granted to the City of London ; and the
Townsmen of Hungerford, in Berkshire, claim a right
of fishing in that part of the river Kennet, called their
common water, under a grant from John of Gaunt,
who, we may suppose, derived it from the Crownt :
But, in most instances, fish belong to the owner of the
soil.

These principles being recognised, and property once
settled ; it is easy to see the necessity and the justice
of fencing it with positive laws. Accordingly, in this
country, judicial determinations have, from time
to time, been made, ascertaining the fights of persons
to fisheries ; and these, together with the several sta-
tutes enacted to prevent the destruction offish, com-
pose tfie body of Laws relating to Fish and Fishing :
the former, oy way of supplement to the foregoing
discourse, are here laid down ; and the latter will be re-
ferred to.

The property which the Common Law gives, in
river-fish uncaught, is of that kind which is called
special, or qualified property ; which see defined by
Lord Coke, in his Heports^VsLxi 7. Fo. 17. b. and is de-
rived out of the right to the place, or soil, where such
fish live : so that, supposing them, at any given in-
stant, to belong to one person — ^whenever they resort to
the soil, or water, of another, they become his property',
and so in infinitum.

And to prove that this notion of a fluctuating or
transitory property, is what the laws allows, we need

* 7 Coie 16. The Case of Swans.

+ The townsmen of Hungfr/erJ hzve zhom^holding about a quart, the
inscription whereon affirms it to have been given by John of Gaunty
with the Rial-fishing (so it is therein expressed) in a certain part of the
river. Gibs. Camtkn, 1G6.

THE LAWS OF ANGLING; 46?)

CTily apply it to the case of the water in a river; wliicli
is so constantly passing from the soil of one to another,
that no man can, in strictness, be said to go twice to
the same river : and yet, by a grant of any given quan-
tity of land covered with water, which is the only legal
designation of a river, not only a certain tract of th«
river, but the fish contained in it, shall pass. See ChJce
en Littleton, 4. a.

In the Ilegister, a very ancient law-book, we find
two writs relating to fish ; tlie one, for the unlawful
taking of fish in a sever aUjisJieri/^'-^dinfX the other, in
^free-jishery. And of these, in their order,

A several-^fisherjy, is that which a man is entitled to,
in respect of his bein^ the owner of the soil ; and is
what no one can have in ijic land of another, unless by
special grant or prescription. And whoever shall fish
in such a several-fishery, without a licence, is liable to
an action of trespass ; in which the plaintift' may well
demand, *' Wherefore, in the plaintiff's several-fishery,
*^ the defendant was fishing, and his fishes took," ^c,
for though the fish be fercB milurd, yet being taken
in the water of the owner of the river, they arc said to
be his fish, without saying, in his soil or water, 3d
Croke's Reports^ 553, Child and GreenhllVs case : But
he must set forth the naturn and number of the fisli
taken, 5 Coke's Reports, 3b, Plai/ter\ case, and 3d
Coke 18.

A free-fishery is a ri^ht to take fish in the water and
soil of another, and is derived out of a several-fishery.
If one seized of a river, grants, without including the
«oil, a several-fishery,— ror, which amounts to no mor«
than that, his water, — a right of fishing passes, and
nothing else. Plowden's Commentary, 154, b. Coke
on Littleton, 4, b. and the word several, in such case,
is synonymous with sole, — and that in so strict a sense,
that by such a grant not only strangers, but even the
owner of the soil, is excluded from fishing there. Co,
Litt. 122. a. And, further, where one prescribes to
have a several- fishery in a water,— which prescription,
always, supposes a grant precedent, — the owner of the

470 THE LAWS OP ANGLING.

soil-, as much as a stranger, is liable to an action if ho
fishes there : 2 Roll. 258. the case of Foriston and
€ratchrode in the Coimnon Pleas^ Mich, 29 and 30
Eiiz» : But here, tlie writ ^liall vary from that in i\\e
case of a several-fishery [by possession of the soil], and
demand, ^' Wherefore the defendant, in tlie free-psheri/
*' of the plaintiiF, at N. without the licence and con*
** sent of the plainlifl', was fishing," &c. expressing
the nature and number of the fish taken : but because
the soil does not pass hy such a grant, and the fish are
feros naturd, lie shall not call them his fish, as in the
former instance. See the case of Child and Greenhill
above cited.

The doctrine deducible from these principles is.
That that which — united wuth the soil— would be a
several-fishery ; when severed by grant — though the
grant be of a several, or sole, and not of a free-fishery
in terminis — becomes a free-fishery.

There is yet another case that I shall mention;
which will give the intelligent reader a clear notion
ef this matter. A man grants to one, or more, a
tiberUj of jishiftg* : here, nothing but a naked righfe
to fish passes ; and the remedy against a trespasser is
not severed from the soil, — the owner whereof, and not
the grantee, may maintain an action, and may also fish
himself. Co. Lilt. 122. a.

As common of fishing, may be appendant to land ; so
also there may be a joint-tenancy, or a tenancy in com-
mon, of a fishery. 1 Inst* 186. b.

Having thus shewn in what cases the angler, in
the pursuit of his recreation, may become a tves^
passer^ — let us next consider how fax he is, by taking

• I find InDugd. Wariv. 1142, in margined an account of the follojwing
grant, which for its singularity deserves notice.

31 Hen. III. " Thomas de Clinton, of Aminton, levied a fine to Phil.
** Marniion, that he and his heirs, his wife, and their heirs, might, when
•* they came to Tamworth, or to their castle at Middleton, fish with
*« a boat any where in his water at Anjinton, with one net, called a^w
" net,. and a tramil ajad sayna ; for which liberty he gave him six marks
« of silver."

THE LAWS OF ANGLING. 471

fish, in danger of committing Zarcfwy ; for, tbat tlie
taking fish out of a pond, without the consent of the
owner, falls within my Lord CbAe's definition of that
crime, no one can doubt that reads it. His words
are, *' Larceny is the felonious, and fraudulent
*' taking and carrying away, by any man or wo-
*^ man, of the mere personal goods of another — nci-
*^ ther from the person, nor by night in the house
" of the owner," Sd Inst. 107. and a little after, 109.
he expressly says, " Larceny may be committed of
*^ fishes in a^owrf.'*

Now, though to make the taking any personal
thing felonious, reason and the law require, that the
party should do it ammo fiirandi^ see Bracior?,
Lib. 3. FoL 150. Fleta, Lib. 1. Cap. 36. which
we will suppose no angler to be possessed witli : Yet
whether by the word pojid, we are to understand
ponds at large, is perhaps of some consequence for
nim to know.

It is a rule in law, that personal goods, and things
severed from the freehold, shall go to the executors,
and not to the heir: Wentworth's Office of an
Executor^ Chap. 5. and so shall fish in a trunk,
or the like, ibid, but Lord Coke, in his Commrn*
tary on Littleton^ Fol. 8. tells us, that fish in a
pond shall go with the inheritance, because, says he,
*^ they were at their liberty, and could not be gotten
*' without industry, as by nets or engines."

From hence we may conclude, that fish in ponds
cannot be said to be mere personal goods ; and then
it follows as a consequence, that of such fish larceny
cannot be committed ; and we may further conclude,
that the word powc?5, in the above passage, must mean
only stew-ponds, cisterns, or other such small recep-
tacles of fish.

Many wholesome laws have, from time to time, been
enacted, to prevent the destruction of fish : but they
are so numerous, that I must refer the reader to the
Statutes at large, or to the Abridgment published by
a late worthy and learned friend of mine, John Cay,
Esq. deceased.

472 THE LAWS OF ANGLING.

He may also see a Discourse on the laws concerning
angling, and for preser'oation of Jish, at the end of
tlie Angler's Sure Guide, written — as it seems — by the
Author of that book, with the learning and accuracy
of an able lawyer.

APPENDIX.

NUMBER I.

Referred to from the end of Part I.

[A SYNOPSIS]

Of Aquatic Insects covering themselves with cases,

'Imvto'veabley being af-
fixed to stones ; and
have a body either

r

1

Roundy with little threads on

the sides, or
jF/a/, and more compressed,

without little threads.

Water insects
that cover j
themselves <
with cases,
have a case

. either

> 4)

A .tl

'2 bo 1

2.S ^

Or moveable^ portable and migratory, called "phry-
ganea'' — "vulgo^ "a cad-case" — which is furnished
with little thnreads, as well on the back as the sides, by
means whereof they adhere firmly to their cases, ex-
cepting only their head and feet : with three small
protuberances projecting beyond the feet, which they
can erect or put forth at pleasure, to hinder their cases
from pressing down on their heads as they creep, and
troubling them.

^The greater being two inches

» long ;

I The lesser and most common
called strazv-'U'orms.

and shorter, with sometimes

Stratus ag-
glutinat

ed : and
those ei-
ther

Parallel, '

constituting
two species;

Or transverse

Or no straivs
adhering,
but small
stones or
fine sand ;
which are
either

, small stones and shells intermixed.

"Roundy with little worms within, called coJ^
baity

pWith somewhat larger stones
adhering to the sides of
the case, but never to the
fore or back part of it :
whence it necessarily ap-
pears flat and compressed.
Or with no stones adhering
to the sides; but with a
case extending on each side
into a narrow margin or
border, like wings ; and the
case is more flat and com-
pressed than the former.

Or flat and <
compress-
ed, either

Or crookedy or rather resembling
a horn : for the cases of these
are crooked, and one extremity
is larger, the other less. Of these

I have known four different species, viz. the black, the greater
and less ; and the ash-colour, the greater aad le»8.
E E 2

474 APPENDIX. NO. I.

All these produce flies with very large wings, [like thoie of butterflies;
The nymphe of these (which are to spring from those small worm»
and which Uke tortoises carry their houses about with them; within
which they turn into nymph a i from, which nympha^ afterwards spring
little flies,) Dr. Swammerdam refers to his fourth order of transmuta-
tions, whereas, in my opinion, they belong to the third, because they
change their skin twice.

Another translation of this Synopsis, too copious to be here inserted,
together with many curious particulars concerning Aquatic Insects, is to
be found in the Natural History of NortbamptQnsbire^ by the Rev. JohR
Morton, chap. 7.

i

APPENDIX. 475

NUMBER ir.
Referred to from Part II. page 425, n;

FEBRUARY.

PEACOCK-Hackle. Peacock's Lerl, alone, or
interchanged with ostrich herl ; warping, red silk ; red
cock's hackle over all. It may be varied, by a black
cock's hackle and silver twist.

Takeriy chiefli/^ from nine to eleven in the morning^ and
from one to three in the afternoon.

This, and the several other hackles which we have
here and hereafter described, being most tempting baits,
—should always be first, tried, when the angler comes
to a strange river; and not changed till he has
found out, and is certain what particular fly is upon
the water.

MARCH.

Green Peacock Hacklb. Greenish herl of a
peacock; warping, green silk; a black hackle over
all.

Taken from eight to eleven in the morning.

AsH-GOLouRED DuN. Dub with the roots of a fox-
cub's tail; warp with pale yellow silk. Wing, of the
pale part of a starling's feather.

Taken from eight to eleven^ and from one to three.

This fly, which is also called the Violet'dun, and
S£ 3

476 APPENDIX. . NO. II.

BluC'dun^ is to be found on almost every river ; some

Farticulars of it have been mentioned in the note. Part
[. p. 426 ; but here follow some observations on it,
which deserve io be attended to. It varies much in
its colour, according to the season of the year: in
March and September it is called, and that very pro-
perly, the violet dun, for it has often that hue ; and
therefore, in the passage above referred to, we have di-
rected the mixing blue-violet crewel with the fox-cub
down. In April it assumes a pale ash-colour : and in
JMai/ is of a beautiful lemon-colour, both body and
wings. In Jtine and JuIt/ it is bl\ie-black ; and from
Juli/^ it insensibly varies till it becomes of its primitive
colour, violet dun, which it never fails to do by
September.

APRIL.

Pearl-colour, or Heron Dun. Dub with the
yellowish or ash-coloured herl of a heron ; warp with
ash-coloured silk. Wing, from the short feather of
a heron — or from a coot's wing— of an ash-colour.

Morning and afternoon*

Blue Dun. Dub with the fur of a water-rat ; warp
with ash-colour. Wing, of a coot's feather.

Morning and afternoon.

MAY.

Silver-Twist Hackle. Dub with the herl of an
ostrich feather; warp with dark green,— silver- twist,—
and black cock's hackle over all.

Taken from nine to eleven, especially in a showeri/-
day.

Sooty Dun. Dub with black spaniel's fur, or the
herl of an ostrich; warp with gr«en. Wing, ihc dark
part of a land-rail or coot.

NO. II. APPENDIX. 477

Taken best in a showery day^ as also in April or
June.

Light flaming or Spring Brown. Dub with
light brown of a calf ; warp with orange-colour ^ wing
of a pale grey mallard's feather.

Taken chiefli/ before sun-set in a warm exieyiing : A
good f 7/.

Although much is said, in the First Part of the
foregoing Dialogues, [pa. 182.] of the Oak-fly, the
Author has given but a very superficial description of
it : and his directions for making it are extremely im-
perfect; we would therefore recommend the making
it after the natural fly, and that according to the
following directions,

Oak-Fly. By some called the Ash-fly, (by others,
erroneously, the Hawthorn-fly.) The head, which is
large, of an ash-colour; the upper part of the body
greyish, with two or three hairs of briglit brown mixt,
and a very little light blue, and sometimes a hair or
two of light green ; the tail part is greyish mixt with
orange ; wing, of a mottled brown feather of a wood-
cock, partridge, or brown hen ; hook No. 8 or 9.
This is the fly ^\hich is seen much— m March, April^
May J and June — on the body of ash-trees, oaks, wil-
lows, and thorns growing near the water ; standing
tvith its head downwards. It is an excellent fly, but
diflicult to imitate, being of many colours, unequally
mixed. It takes, chiefly, in the morning ; it does not
seem to come from any cadis, for it never drops in
great numbers on the water ; and the wings are short,
and lie flat on the back^ like the blue bottle, or large
flesh-fly.

Orange-tawney, Orange-brown, Camlet-fly,
Alder-fly, Withy-fly, or Bastard Cadis. Dub
with dark brown spaniel's hair, or calf's hair, that
shines, — or barge-sail ; warp with deep orange ; black
hackle under the wing. Wing, of a darkish feather of
a mallard or starling.

E £ ^

478 APPENDIX. NO. II.

Taken chief i/ in a morning be/ore the Green-drake
comes upon the water.

HuzzARD. Dub with pale lemon-coloured mohair,
or ostrich-featlier dyed yellow ; warp with yellow ; gold
twist and yellow hackle, over all. Wing, of a very
pale mallard's feather dyed of a lemon-colour; the
wings large, and longer than the body, lying flat on
the back.

Taken in ,a blustering dai/, before the May-fy
comes in.

A fly little known, but the niost beautiful of the
insect species that frequent the water. It is larger
than the Green-drake ; of a beautiful lemon-colour ;
both body and wings, Which are four in number,
and lie close to its back. It is to be met with in
but few rivers, and is therefore esteemed a great
curiosity: in those rivers that produce them, they
appear, in great numbers, about the latter end of
April: at which time, and afterwards, the Trouts
rise at them very eagerly; doubtless, this is a true
water-fly : it is supposed to be produced from a very
large cadis.

Death-Drake* The body, one herl of black
ostrich and two of peacock ; silver-twist ; black hackle.
Wing, of the dark feather of a mallard, of a copper-
colour.

Taken chiejly in an evening when the May-jly is
almost gone.

Yellow Miller, or Owl-Fly, The body of a
yellow martern's fur, or ostrich herl dyed buff*-colour.
Wing, of the ruddy feather of a young peacock's wing,
or pale brown chicken.

Taken from sun-set till ten at night, and from two
till four in the morning.

NO, It. APPENDIX. 4T9^

JUNE.

The Mai/'Jliesy most of them, as above.

JULY.

Middling Brown. Made of calPs hair, twisted
upon pale yellow silk, for the silk to appear. Wing^
of a mallard's feather.

Dark Brown. Warp with red silk, >vith a deep
orange tag at the tail. Wing, of a mallard's feather.

Willow Cricket, or Small Peacock Fly. A
herl of a green peacock's feather ; warp with green silk.
Wing, of a starling's feather, longer than the body.

A morning jly^ especially for Grayling in rapid risers.

Pismire. The body, some few reeves of a cock-
pheasant's tail feather, or ruddy barge-sail, or brown
carpet, or old bear's hair, towards the roots, tan-
ned with the weather; one peacock's herl may be
twisted with it : warp with ruddy silk. Wing, the
light part of a starling's feather, left longer than the
body.

A killing jly after an emmet-Jlighty hut not before,

AUGUST.

The Pismire through this month ; as also the other
Flies of the last month.

SEPTEMBER.

Large Fcetid Light Brown. The body of light
calf or cow's hair, or seal's fur dyed of the colour ;

480 APPENDIX. NO. II.

warp with ruddy or orange-coloured silk. Wing, of
a ruddy brown chicken large and long.

A killing jly in a morning. This flj/ is much
upon Hackney river, and is much ruddier there
than elsewhere. In the Thames, I hate caught
with it Dace of the largest size, and in great
numbers. Somewhat of its History is given in
the 7ioteSy p* 305 j 6.

APPENDIX. 481

NUMBER III.
Referred to from Part II. page 425, n.

JANUARY.

SPRING Black. Body, black wool of a sheep's
face, with or without a greenish peacock's herl;
warp with brown silk. Wing, the grey feather of a
mallard.

Second Spring Black. Body, the very blackest
part of the darkest hare's scut you can procure ; with
or without a greenish peacock's herl. Warp with
ash-coloured silk. Wing, of a field-fare's feather.

ThiSf and the other, spring black are best taken in
bright weather,

Bloa* Herl. Body, black rabbit's scut; black of
a hare's scut; greenish peacock's herl; warp with
brown silk : wing, the light part of a fieldfare's fea-
ther.

Black Hackle. Body, pale yellow silk ; with a
black cock*s hackle turned about it.

Dun Hackle. Body, dun-coloured silk; with a
dun cock's hackle.

* This is a north country word, and as I am told, signifies a colour
resembling that of a mole's back, which has a blueish gloss. I find
it, thus, explained— in a catalogue of local words, communicated in a
Letter from Mr. Thoresby, of Leeds, to Mr. Ray : « Bloa, black and
" blue." Philosophical letters between the learned Mr. Ray, and several
of his ingenious correspondents, Octavo, 1718, page 321,

isg

APPENDIX. NO. llli

FEBRUARY.

The same Flies as are directed for the preceding
hionth .

MARCH.

The same Flies as are directed for the preceding
tnonths ; and also the

Turkey Fly, or March Fly. Body, brown foal's
hair, — tops of the wings of a woodcock, some ruddy,
others grey, well mixed together : warp with pink and
jrellow, or pink and light coloured brown silk, twisted
together : wing, of a pheasant-cock's feather.

N. B. This^ it is supposed, ts the Cob-fly^ so much
cried up in Wales.

APRIL.

Light Bloa. Body, light fox-cub fur, a little
light foal's hair ; a little squirrel's bloa, and the whit-
ish yellow of the same, all these well mixed toge-
ther ; warp with yellow silk. Wing, of a light field-
fare's feather.

Dun. Body, dunnest filmert* or martern's fur,
Indian fox-dun, light dun fox-cub, coarse hair of the
stump of a squirrel's tail of a brightish brown or a yel-
lowish cast ; warp with yellow silk. Wing, the light
feather of a fieldfare.

Plain Hackle. Body, black ostrich herl, with

* Filmert. This is the animal which Walton, p. 95, calls the /«//-
mart : but the former is a name by which it is very well known at the
furrier's.

KO. III. APPENDIX. 483

red or black cock's hackle over it; and, in hot weather,
add gold twist.

Red Hackle. Body, red silk and gold twist ; and
a red cock's hackle-^' till June : afterwards, use orange
silk for the body. An excellent jly,

N. B. This is more prop erli/ the Orange-fly. It re-
sembles in colour a Seville orange. Wings mat/i
be added, either of a ruddi/ hen or chicken^ or of
the softest feather of a rook^s wing : the Jirst
will give it an orange, — the latter, a dunnish hue.^
It has four wings ; two next the hodi/, of a Tery
dark grey colour^-^and two, serving as a case
over them, sometimes of a dirty blackish colour,
and sometimes of an orange colour,

Bloa Watchet*, Is a small fly; and appears
on the water, in a cold day. (hook No. 9 or 10.) The
body, fur of a water-rat, — black part of a hare's scut,
the pale roots cut off", — a very little brown bear's hair :
warp with pale brown, or olive-coloured, silk. Wing,
of a hen blackbird.

Yellow Watchet. Body, water rat's fur, the
blackest part of a hare's scut, greenish yellow crewel for
feet : warp with green silk. Wing, the lightest part of
a blackbird's feather. Hook No. 9 or 10.

Knotted Grey Gnat. Body, darkest part of a
hare's scut, dark brown foal's hair, dark fur of the black
of an old fox ; warp with grey silk. Wing, the bloa
feather of a fieldfare.

Green-Tail. Body, dark part of a hare's scut,
and darkest bloa fur of an old fox ; light part of a
squirrel's tail,— and a hair or two of the coarse brown-
ish part of it, for feet ; warp with ash-coloured silk.
Wing, of a hen pheasant.

• "Watchki ; Color caruhns albkanst Skinner, Pale- or sky-blue.

48i APPENDIX. NO, in.

Sand Fly. Body, dark brown foal's hair, a little
bloa squirrel's fur, and the whitish yellow of the same ;
warp with yellow silk. Wing, the light part of a field-
fere's feather.

MAY.

The nine foregoing Flies directed for April j and
also the

Bloa Herl, Body, fox's ftir, dark part of a hare's
6cut, greenish herl of a peacock (if the weather is
warm for the season, otherwise little or none of tlie
greenish herl) ; warp with brown silk. Wing, of a
starling's feather.

Dun. Body, dunnish bloa fur of an old fox^
mixed with pale yellow, the ends of the hairs of an
old fox almost yed, some coarse hairs taken out of
the tail or brush ; warp with yellow. Wing, starling's
feather.

Stone-Gnat. Body, the roots of the darkest
part of a hare's scut, the top or ends being cut off;
warp with ash-coloured silk. Wing, a blackbird's fea*
ther.

Light Bloa. Body, light fur of an old fox,
mixed with pale yellow crewel ; warp with pale yellow
silk. Wing, light feather of a jay.

Orange Brown. Body, orange-coloured wool,
ith bright brown bear's hair mixed ;
silk» Wing, of a starling's feather.

with bright brown bear's hair mixed ; warp with orange

Peacock Hackle. Body, peacock's ruddy herl;
red cock's hackle. Warp with red silk.

Black Herl. Body, black herl of an ostrich,

NO. III. Appendix. 485

and ruddy lierl of a peacock, twisted togetLer ; warp
with brown silk. Wing, tlie light feather of a field-
fare.

Pewet, or Lapwing's Topping. Body, peacock's
lierl, and that of a lapwing's crown feather, twisted
together ; warp with red silk. Wing, the red feather
qf a partridge's tail.

Red Herl. Body, two herls of a peacock, twisted
together ; warp with ruddy silk. Wing, the red feathex
of a partridge's tail.

JUNE.

The Dun^ Stone'gnat, Light hloa, Orange hrown^
Peacock hackle., Black herl, Pewefs topping y and
^ed herl — of the last month— go, also, through this.
There are likewise taken the

Whitterish. Body, the root-end of the white
p^rt of a hare's scut,— light grey foal's hair, or camel's
hair, towards the tail, — the dark part of a hare's scui
with some brown hairs mixed ; peacock's herl for the
head ; w^rp with white silk. Wing, the feather of a
sea-mew.

Light Grey. Body, fur of the inner part of a
rabbit's leg, the lightest of the dark part of a hare's
sent ; warp with asu-colouredsilk. Wings, light-grey
piallard's feather.

JULY.

The Peacock hackle, Black herl, Pewefs toppings
;^nd Jied Aeri— of May and June ; and the Whitterish

480 APPENDIX. NO. III.

andLight'gret/-^of the last month ; serve also for this.
And to those, add the

Brown. Body, hair of a very light brown, or
reddish, calf-^or spaniel— «and light bear's hair, mix^
ed ; warp with pale orange. Wing, the feather of a
land-^rail.

AUGUST.

The Peacock hackle, and the three fpllowing Flies —
of May and the two subsequent months ; and the Brown
of the last month ; serve also for this : In which
also are taken the

Grey-Fly. Body, light grey foaVs hair mixed
with the dark part of a hare's scut ; warp with gre^r
silk. Wing, a hen-pheasant's feather.

Black Ant-Fly. Body, darkest part of a hare's
scut, and dark brown wool— or sheep's russet — equally
mixed, — and one single ruddy herl of a peacock ; all
twisted together ; warp with copper-coloured silk.
Wing, a fieldfare's feather.

Brown Ant-Fly. Body, bright brown bear's hair,
much weather beaten. Almost of an orange-colour
towards the tail ; and, therefore, a few hairs of a
light brown, or flame-coloured, calf — or spaniel's hair
— to be added in the tail part. Warp with orange-
coloured silk. Wing, the light feather of a fieldlare
or starling.

Note, The Black and the Brown Ant Fly / have
studied to imitate with other materials, (and have
found them succeed very well,) made as follows :

Black Ant. Brozsm b€ar''s hair^ and a little grej/

NO. III. APPENDIX. 487

squirreVs hair next the roots y peacock herl ; warp
with copper'Colour or ash.

Brown Ant. Light barge- sail, seaPs fur and
brown beards hair^ peacock herl; warp with orange^
Wings of this and the former^ starling^ s feather;
longer than the bocf^.

F P

488 APPENDIX.

NUMBER IV.
Referred to from Part II. page 425, n.

FEBRUARY.

PRIME DwN. Dubbing, of the down of a fox-cub,
warped with sad ash-coloured silk : wings, of the fea-
ther got from the quill of a * shepstare's wing. This
fly is made little : but there is another^ made of the same
dubbing, larger bj far.

MARCH.

The same Flies as are taken in February^ will be
taken in March : and also those hereafter mentioned.

Moorish Brown. Dubbing, of the wool of a black
sheep ; warped with red silk. Wings, of the feather
got from a partridge wing.

Palm-Fly. Dubbing, of the hair of a brown spa-
niel, got on the outsicle of the ear, and a little sea-green
wool mixed ; warped with brown cloth-coloured silk.
Wings, of a shepstare's quill-feather.

Green-Tail. Dubbing, of the brown hair of a spa-
niel, got on the outside of the ear : but a little, in the
end of the tail, must be all of sea-green wool, without
mixture. Wings, as the last.

* The reader Is to note, that sBepstare, startry and starlings are words
•ynonymous. /^?«/. Minsheu's i)/f/. ^w/tStare.

NO. IV; APPENDIX. 489

APRIL.

Bright Bear. Dubbing, of bright bear's hair ;
warped with sad cloth-coloun d silk. Wings, ot a shep-
stare's quill feather. — Others dub the body with yellow
silk, which is better.

Yellow Dun. Dubbing, of yellow wool, and ash-
coloured fox-cub down mixed together ; dubbed [warped]
with yellow silk ; Wings, of the feather of a sliep"
stare's quill. — Others dub it with dun bear's hair, and
the yellow fur got from a martern's skin, mixed to-
gether; and, with yellow silk. Wings, of a shep-
stare's quill-feather.

Make two other flies, their bodies dubbed as the
last : but, in the one, mingle sanded hog's down; and,
in the other, black hog's down. Wings, of a shep-
stare's quill-feather.

And there is also taken an excellent fly, made of dun
bear's hair, yellow martern's fur, sanded hog's down,
and black hog's down, all mixed in an equal propor-
tion together; warped with yellow silk. Wings, of
the feather of a shepstare's quill.

These several flies, mentioned for April, are very
^ood j and will be taken, all the Spring and Summer.

MAY.

Thorn-Fly. Dubbing, of black lamb's wool ;
warped with black silk. VVings, of a mallard's light
grey feather. — Note, That, in all the instances, where
mallard's feathers are directed to be used for wings,--^
thei/ must he those of the wild^ and not the tame
mallard,

Knop-Fly. Dubbing, of the down of an otter-cub,
and the herl of a peacock ; warped with black silk.
Win^s, of the light grey feather of » mallard.

F 1 2

49(^ APPENDIX. NO. IV.

Fern-Bud. This fly is got on fern ; and the natural
one is very good to dib with. It has a short thick body,
of a very sad greenish colour; and two pair of wings, —
the uppermost are hard, and sometimes taken of : but
the undermost, diaphanous. And it is dubbed with
the herl of a peacock, and very sad green silk : wings,
of the feather of a fieldfare's quill got out of the wing.

Little Dun. Dubbing, of an otter's fur ; warped
with ash-coloured silk. Wings, of a shepstare's quill-
fcather.

Yellow May Fly. Dubbing, of yellow wool, mix-
ed with yellow fur of a raartern ; warped with yellow
silk. Wings, of the lightest-coloured feather of a
throstle.

JUNE.

Black Midge, or Gnat. Dubbing, of the down
of a mole ; warped with black silk. Wings, of a light
grey shepstare's quill-feather.

Grey Midge, or Gnat. Dubbing, of the down
of a sad grey cat, or sad grey camel's hair ; warped
with grey silk. Wings, of the grey feather of a mal-
lard.

Purple-Fly. Dubbing, of purple wool, and a lit-
tle bear's hair mixed — sometimes, no bear's hair at all.
Wings, of a shepstare's quill-feather. Warped with
purple silk.

Sand-Fly. Dubbing, of the wool gotten off the
flank of a black sheep ; warped with black silk. Wings,
of the sad-coloured feather of a throstle-quill. Otheri
make the body, of the feather of a heron's neck.

Mackeril. Dubbing, of light brown camel's hair ;
warped with black silk. Wings, of a red cock's feather.

NO. IV. APPENDIX. 491

JULY.

Blue Dun. Dubbing, of the down of a water-mouse,
and the bluish dun of an old fox, mixed together ; warp-
ed with sad ash-coloured silk. Wings, of a shepstare's
quill-feather.

AUGUST.

Buss Brown. Dubbing, of the light brown hair of
a cur. The head, black. Wings, of the feather of a
red hen. Warped, with orange-coloured silk.

Hearth-Fly. Dubbing, of the wool of an old black
sheep ; with some grey hairs in it, for the body and
head. Wings, of a light shepstare's quill-feather ; warp-
ed-on with black silk.

Pismire-Fly. Dubbing, of bright brown bear's
hair ; warped with red silk. Wings, of the saddest-
coloured shepstare's quill-feather. A goodjly.

SEPTEMBER.

Little Blue Dun. Dubbing, of the down of a
mouse, for body and head ; warped with sad ash-coloured
silk. Wings, of a sad-coloured shepstare's quill-feather.

F F 3

i02 APPENDIX.

NUMBER V.

Referred to from Part II. page 444, n.

Ten 2/ ears one Month and five Days' Angling.

FISH taken in the counties of Carmarthen ^

and Glamorgan, commencing 11th f fiOTa
April, 1753, to the lOlh April, 1754,r "^'"
inclusive — — . — y

Ditto in the counties of Pembroke, Carmar- \

Ihen, Glamorgan, and Derby, fromf ^tko
11th April, 1754, to 24th October r '^'^°
following — — . — 5

1756 Ditto in the counties of York, Salop, > ^rfon

and Glamorgan — — ^

1757 Fish taken in the county of Glamorgan 9272
3 758 Ditto in the counties of Glamorgan, > 7762

Brecon, Radnor, and Hereford — J

1759 Ditto in the same counties — S490

1760 Ditto in the county of Glamorgan — 2150

1761 Ditto in the same county, — — 2522

1762 Ditto in the counties of Glamorgan and > o\q.9

Carmarthen — __ ^ c^it^

1763 Ditto in the county of Carmarthen — 3158

1764 Ditto in the county of Carmarthen tol

23d July, being my last day's an-> 1814?
gling in the principality — J

The whole given to the public, 47120

The rich, the poor, "the sick, and the healthy, have
tasted of the labour of my hands.

In the first nine months iu the year 1751, I took in
the counties of Pembroke, and Camarthen, above a
thousand trouts, and though I have, taken trouts in

mo. V. APPENDIX. 493

every month in the year, since ; yet I could not, in any
one year, reach that number : — perhaps I have done it,
before 1751 ; but I did not, then, keep an account all
the year round, only noted those days in "which I had
diversion more than common.

N. B. There were some pike and chub, eel and
jlounder^ taken, which are not noted in the above ac-
count.

If I had had the honour of an acquaintance with
this keen and laborious Sportsman, 1 might posstb It/ at
times have checked him in the ardor of his pursuit, by
reminding him of that excellent maxim, Ne quid nimis,
i, e. Nothing too much. The pleasure of angling
consists not so much in the number offish we catchy
as in the exercise of our art, the gratification of our
hopes, and the reward of our skill and ingenuity :
were it possible for an Angler to be sure of every cast
of his jly, so that for six hours together his hbok
should never come home without a fish at it, angling
would be no more a recreation than the sawing of »ton«
or the pumping of water.

y J 4

4^4 APPENDIX.

NUMBER VI.

Containing additional Rules and Cautions.

I. WHEN you bave booked a fisb, never suffer him
to run out with the line : but keep your rod bent^ and
as near perpendicular as you can ; by this method, the
top plies to every pull he makes, and you prevent the
straining of your line : for the same reason,

II. Never raise a large fish out of the water by tak-
ing the hair to which your hook is fastened, or indeed
any part of the line, into your hand : but either put a
landing-net under hira, or for want of that, your hat :
you may indeed in fly-fishing, lay hold of your line
to draw a fish to you ; but this must be done with cau-
tion.

III. Your silk for whipping hooks and other fine
work, must be very small : use it double : and wax it
—and, indeed, any other kind of binding— with shoe*
maker's wax, which of all wax is the toughest, and
holds best ; if your wax is too stiff, temper it with
tallow.

IV. If for strong fishing, you use^rfl55 — which when
you can get it fine, is to be preferred to gut — remember
always to soak it, about an hour, in water before you us©
it : this will make it tough, and prevent its kinking.

V. Whenever you begin fishing, wet the ends of the
joints of your rod ; which, as it makes them swell, will
prevent their loosening. And,

VI. If you happen with rain or otherwise to wet
your rod, so that you cannot pull the joints asunder,—
turn the ferule, a few times, round in the flame of a
candle ; and they will easily separate.

VII. Before you fix the loop of bristle to your hook,
in order to make a fly, — to prevent its drawing, be sure
to singe the ends of it in the flame of a candle ; do the
same by the hair, to which at any time you whip a
Look.

NO. VI.

APPENDIX. 495

VIII. Make flies in zmrm weather only : for in cold,
your waxed silk will not draw,

IX. In rainy weather, or when the season for fishing
is over, repair whatever damage your tackle has sus-
tained.

X. Never regard what bunglers and slovens ieW you :
but believe, that neatness in your tackle, and a nice and
curious hand in all your work, especially in fly-making,
are absolutely necessary.

XI. Be ever so provided as to be able to help your-
self ill all exigencies : nor deem it a small incivility, to
interrupt your companion in his sport, by frequently
calling to him to lend you a plummet or akni/e^ — or to
supply you with a hooky afloat, a few shot, or any thing
else that you ought to be'^furnished with Ijefore you set
out for your recreation.

XII. Never fish in any water that is not common,
without leave of the ozoner, which is seldom denied to
any but those wlio do not deserve it.

XIII. If at any time you happen to be overheated
with walking, or other exercise, — avoid small liquors,
especially water, as you would poison ; and rather take
a glass of rum or brandy ; the instantaneous effects
whereof, in cooling the body, and quenching drought,
are amazing.

XI 7. Never be tempted in the pursuit of your re-
creation to wadt i at least not, as I have seen some do,
to the waist. This indiscreet practice has been known
to bring on fevers that have terminated in abscesses, and
endangered the loss of a limb.

XV. Never to preserve the character of an expert
Angler be guilty of that mean practice oibui/ing Jish*

* There are others, to whom this caution against buying fish may be
useful. One of the greatest temptations to the fishing with unlawful nets
in the Thames near London, is the high price which by an artifice some of
the scaly kinds of fish, that is to say roach and dace are made to fetch ;
for the takers of such, first, scrape off the scales^ and sell them By the
pound to the necklace-makers ; (who make thereof a kind of amalgama^
with which they cover wax beads, and thereby imitate pearls ;) and,
having so done, they cry the smallest, and very refuse, of the fish about
the streets, and sell them to ignorant housekeepers for gudgiont.

496 APPENDIX* NO. YI*

of such of your fellow sporlsnien as have had better suc-
cess than yourself; thereby giving occasion for that
bitter sarcasm, the more bitter for being true ; *' They
*' were caught with a silter hooh*^"*

XV^I. Remember, that the wit and invention of man-
kind were bestowed for other purposes than to deceite
silly fish ; and that however deliglitful angling may
have been made to appear, by the foregoing pages, it
ceases to be innocent when used otherwise than as a
mere recreation.

XVII. Lastly, When seated under a shady tree, on
the side of a pleasant river ; or, moving about on the
banks of it, thou art otherwise pursuing thy recreation;
when the gliding of waters^ the singing of birds, the
bleating of flocks^ the lowing of cattle, and the %iem
of delightful prospects, and the various occupations
of rural industry, shall dispose thee to thought and re-
flection,— let the heauties of nature ; the power, wis*
dom, and goodness of the Almighty, as manifested in
the production of his creatures ; the order and course^ of
his providence, in their preservation ; the rewards of a
good life; and the certaintj/ of thj/ end; be the sub-
jects of thy meditation.

APPENDIX,

m

NUMBER VII.

ECLOGA PlSCATORIA,

A MetastasiOj ut dicitur.

CANDIDA vita
Gaudia nescit
Ah miser ! ille,
Qui requievit
Littore nunquam
Mollis arenae
Pone reclinis ;
Grata Favoni
Quum levis auia^
Vespere sero
Fluctibus orta,
Flamine leni
Pectore mulcens
iEquora crispat :
Nox ubi fuscis
Evolat alis,
Quot micat ardens
Ignibus aether
Unda relucet,
Fractaque Phoebes
iEquore glauco
Ludit imago
Lactea, splendet
Sub tremebundo
Lumine pontus.
Et tua, Triton,
Buccina torta
Nocte silenti
Littora complet,
(Blanda palustris

Fistula cede,
Pan, licet Area*
Inflet avenam \}
Saxaque late
Ruddered iscunt
Doridos ignes,
Leucothoesve,
Vel Galatheae
Grata Sicano
Furta sub antro,
Quae fovet ulnis
Acida Divum ;
Dumque natanti
Lumine languens
Murmure leni,
Basia sugens
Coraprirait arct^
Pectore pectus
Aurea nymphe ;
Spretus amator
(Ardua moles)
Heu fremit atrox
Ore cruento,
Cunctaque late
Voce tonanti
Semiferimplet :
(Scylla relatrat
^tna remugit)
Turn furibundis
Passibus errans,

i

INDEX,

A.

4LBERTUS, Magnus, account qf, 142, n.

AldROVandus, Ulyssesy account of, 169, n^

JElianus, Claudius y account of, 112, n.

Alfred the Great opens and divides the riyer Lea, S17, n .—His charac-
ter, ibid.

Anello Tomaso, description of his person, 148, n.

^ngler, his qualifications, 102 — Character of Anglers, 148 — Exception in
Tomaso Anello, 148, n.

Anglingy the praise of, 16, 101 — its antiquity, IDS — Allowed by the Canon
Law to the Clergy, 118.

— ■ the Tackling necessary, 300, & p. [and see the Titles ^o</j, Llnes^
Hooks y Baits y Book^

■■' with a natural Fly, 1 84, [and see Bibbing.'] — ^with an artijleial Fly,

175, 403 Isf seq. — with a Running Line, 163, 451 55* seq. — ^with a
Ledger-baity 222— with a Floaty 307, n., 453. [And see the Title*
Snap-Anglingy Snigling, Trollingy Worm-Jisbing; Wind; Iff Position;
with each kind of Fish, by name, intended to be angled-for.]

P, . by ladies in the canal in St. Jameses Park, 323, n,

I additional Rules and Cautions /or y 494.

Antony, Marky and Cleopatra; amuse themselves with Angling, 118—
the folly which they mixed with it ; reflections thereon, ibid. n.

Ants'eggsy a bait for Roachy 291 y n.

Ant-fyy where found, 294, — ^how to keep, ibid. — how to make, 439,
June 8.

Ash-fyy Oak-fly y Woodcock'fiyy Cannon-fyy and Doivnhill-flyy the same, 184,
n. — how produced, and where found, 184, andn. — ^how to make, 477,
Appendix, II, May, Oak-fy.

Ash-grub y 454.

AsHMOLE, Mr. Eliasy account of, 108, n.

Assa-fatiduy grateful to the senses of fish, 19, 211.

AusoNius, Detiusy account of, 110, n.

B.

BACONy Sir Francis ; his opinion that the Carp lives but ten years re-
futed, 234, and n, — his opinion that the Pike lives but forty year*
refuted, 214.

502 INDEX.

£ait general, 298, n. extract from Barier— Other general hqits^ 302, 226—
iVinter-bait for Roacby &c. 294 — Baits, method of discovering ivbat
fish take, 299, n. 423. [And see the Titles Cadist Flies, Frogs, Gen-
tles, Grashoppsr, Graves^ Ground-bait, Grub, Loach, Minnow, Oils,
Pastes, Stieklebag, IVbeat, Worm, Worms ; with each kind of Fish
by nameJl

Barbel, observations on, 265 — ^how to fish for, 267 — Spawn of, poisonous*
266 — Flesh dangerous, 266, n. 18 — An Angler caught by a Barbel,
268, n. — Notable patience of a Barbel- Angler, 269, n. — Party of Bar-
bel-fishers, remarkably successful, ibid.

Barker, Mr. Thomas, an old Angler, and a writer on Angling, 27-^
Prose quotations from, 175, n. 298, n. — Notable story of his fi^ng
in the night, 175, n. — Specimens of his poetry, 183, n. 225, n.

Barnes, Dame Juliana ; of a noble family ; learned and accomplished ;
Authoress of a book on Angling, Extracts from it, 15, tfJ* seq*

Bede, Father, account of, 256, n.

Beggar, blind, of Bethnal Green ; story of, 338, n.

Beggars, a gang of, debate a subtil question, 192.

Bishop- Fish, strange account of from Rondeletius, 111, n.

Bleak, description of, and how to fish-for, 272.

Book to contain materials for Fly-making, described, 179, o.

Boots and Shoes, how to preserve from wet, 299, n.

Boyle, Hon. Rob., spiritualized Angling; his book ridiculed by Swift, SO.

Bream, observations on, 240 — ^how to fish for^ 241, 55* sea. Bait for,
296,

Bull-head— Sqg Millers-thumb.

BuTJE.£R, Dr» account of, 138, n.

C.

CAD-BAIT— see Cadis.

Cadis, several kinds of, enumerated 302, t!f seq.-—z good bait, 303 — «ack»
spur cadis, a choice bait for float fish, ibid. — how to bait with ayelloTv
fodis for Trout, 306 — different kinds of cadis described, 304, n. —
where found, 306 — how to take, 807 — an excellent method to keep,
, 303, n. — may be used with a worm or fly, 455 — the nature of
cadis but little understood, as a subject of natural history, 306, tu
—Synopsis of the different species, 473, Appendix, I.

Camelem, that it lives on the air a vulgar error, 143, n.

Cannon-fly — See Oak-fly.

Cardanus Hieronymus, account of, 223, n.

Carp, observations on, 231 — how to fish for, 236, tS* seq. — Excellent
bait for, 242 — ground-bait, 243 — When and by whom first brought
into England, 231, and n. f . — ^Their fertility, 232— Icmgevity, 234
— docility, 197 — Observations on the breeding of, 235, 321| ^ S9q>
— how to dress, 239.

Casting the line, directions for, 405.

Casaubon, Meric, account of, 107, n.

Caterpillar — see Palmer-xvorm.

Caussin, Nicholas, account of, 335.

Char, a local fish, 264.

Charles the First, Anecdote respecting, 31, n,

Chauncy, Sir Henry i his account of the rise of the Thames, 3I5>»^

INDEX. 503

Chub, (or Chevln,) observations on, 134— how to fish for, 135, 6, 7—298,
n. 302, 303— Antfly, a bait for, 293.

Clarendon, Lord, his opinion on the question, Whether the happiness
of man consists more in contemplation or action, 104, n.

Cohel — See Thorrocle.

Coke, Lord^ his judgment on the question. Whether or not it be larceny
to take fish out of ponds, 471.

CoLi.iNsoN, Mr. Peter y his account of the production of, and observa-
tions on the Grey-drake, 168, n.

CoRiATE, Toot, a great traveller, account of, 391, n.

Cotton, Charles , Esq.\ his pedigree, S47. — Character of his father by
Lord Clarendon, 348. — Cotton's birth, education, and studies, .349.
Angling his recreation, 350. — He marries, 351. — PubHshes a trans-
lation of the Moral Philosophy of the Stoics, ibid. — author of the
Scarronides or Firgil travestie, ibid. — translates the Life of the Duke
d'Esptrnon, 352. — Held some public appointment, but not long,
ibid. — is made a captain in the army, and visits Ireland, ibid. —
— Composes the Voyage to Ireland, a burlesque Poem, ibid, — trans-
lates Les Horaces, a French tragedy, 353 — and other French pieces,
ibid. — composes the Planter^ Manual, ibid. — and the Burlesque of
Lucian, 354. — Contracts a friendship with Walton, ibid. — in the pro-
gress pf their intimacy, appears to have been adopted by JValton as his
son, ibid, and 380,381, n. — Writes a tract on Anghng, which has
been since received as a second Part of the Compute Angler, and is a
judicious supplement to it, 26-29, 354 — composes the Wonders of
the Peak, a poem, 355 — translates Montaigne's Essays, 356. — Our
Author's Poems on several occasions, and his Translation of the Memoirs
of the Sieur de Pontis, were posthumous publications, ibid, and 357.—
He is supposed to have written for subsistence, 357 — was embarassed,
358. — Time of his first wife's death unknown, 359. — He marries
again, ibid. — His death, ibid. — Short account of his descendants, 360
— Sketch of his character, ibid.

• his fishing-house described, 397, 398.

- Verses of — See Verses,

Crucians, a small pond-fish, 311, n.

Cuckoo-spit, the nidus of the Grasbopper^ 141, n.

Cuttlefish, account of the, 112.

D.

DACEi observations on, 290«— how to fish for, 293 — ^with a gnat or
grashopper, 138,n. 297, n. — how to broil, 299, n.

Doping (or Dabbing) — see Dibbing,

Derby shir Bt abounds with Trout-rivers, 379.

Derham, Dr, his account of the production of the Odk-fy, 185, n. — hit
account of the several kinds of Phryga/iea or Cadews, 304, n.

Dibbing, Anghng with a live fly, or with another insect as a fly, 184,298, n.

Instructions for, 184,402 — How to put the Greendrake-fly on the

hook, 433 — When to dib with the Stone-fly, 437— Camlet-fly , 438 —
Fern-bud, 490, Appendix, IV. May. [And »ee Flies, natural; Cen»
ties ; and Grashopper.^

Donne, Dr, biographical sketch of, 32 — Verses of his, 253.

DsTffi the R^yer, between Derbyshire and Staffordshire, 386.

G G

504 INDEl.

Lownbill-Jiy — See Oak-Jiy,

Drayton, Mkhaely account of, 207, n. — his description of the Salmon-
leap on the river Tivy, 207-- of the principal rivers in the kingdom,
316.

Du Bartas, G. de S. SieuKy account of, 110, n. [And see F'erses.]

DuBRAVius, yanust account of, 219, n.

Dueisy devoured by Eels, 259, n.

Dubbingy Materials for, 178, n.— How to put on, 408-~True colour of,
how to discover, 413.

E.

ECLOGUEy Piscatory i a species of poetry recommended, 284, n.

Eels, observations on, 255— how to fish for, 359, 262, n.— haunts of the
Eel, 262, n. — how to dress, 261 — a viviparous, not an oviparous fish,
262, n. — Narrative of young ducks devoured by Eels, 259, n.

Elizabeth, Qtf««, her wish in May, 150.

Engine for twisting lines described, 328, n.

Ephemerony account of, from Swammerdam, 167, n.

Epigram, by John Owen, 100, n.

F.

FARRARy Nicholasy account of, 39.
Feathers, the several kinds of, used in fly-making, 179, n.
Fence'tnonths, the keeping them should be enforced, 129.
Fish, have the sense of hearing, 196 — generate like other animals, 219, n.
255, n. — their docility, 197 — sometimes dug out of the earth, 258.

— monstrous, 110, 111, 112 — singular fish described by Dr. Wharton,
319.

— leather-mouthed, definition of, 137.
— — (gold and silver,) 311,n.

(salted) for baits, recommended by Walton, 164— disapproyed by

Cotton, 457.

/■«^fr«<f« /'ig-«ora«/y take a sea-monster to church, 112, n.

Fishery, (free — and several) what constitutes, 469, b* seq.

Fishing-at-tbe-top — See Angling with a natural or artijicial Fly , and see
Gras^)spper. Fishing-at-the-bottom — See Angling with a Running-line
and with a Float. Fishing-in-the-middle, 457. [and see Angling with
a Ledger-bait : Angling with a Float may belong also to this branch,
according to the directions for taking each species of Fish.]

Fishing-house, Mr Cottons, described, 397.

Fisb-pondsy how to make and manage, 320.

Fletcher, Mr,Phineas, account of, 282, n.— quotations from him, 282,
53* seq.

Flies, artijicial, how to make, 117-182 — Ampler directions, 407, 419, £5*
seq,. Appendix, Nos. II. III. IV.— Rules prescribing particular Flies
for each Month not to be servilely followed, and why, 69 — ^The
making of Flies by the Angler himself recommended, 412, n. —
Dubbing Feathers^ and otbsr Materials^ enumerated, 178, n»— Stand-

INDE^. 505

ard Forms and Sines, 442, n. — Description of various kinds of Flies,
419, Is' seq. — APPENDIX, Nos. II. III. IV. — In what order to keep,
443, n. — How to angle with, 403 — hue to vary with the complexion
of the day, and water, 175, n., 184, 423 — Fishing with tivo or more
Flies, 405, n. — [And see Salmon.]

Flits natural, how to angle with, 184, 402 — Ani-fy, where found, and
how preserved, 294 — CamUt-Jly, for Grayling, 438 — Fern-bud, in
Dibbing, 490, Appendix, IV. May — History of the Greeii-drake^

431, 432— and of the Grey-drake, 168, n Hatvtborn-fly, where

found, 184 — May-fy, how to bait with in Dibbing, 433 — Oak-fy,
where found, 184 — Stone-Jiy, described, 436.

Float- Angling, directions for, 307, n.

Flounders, unsizable, caught in the Thames, and the Takers thereof pu-
nished, 129, n.

Fly-jiihing — See Flies and Book ; and see Rods and Lines.

Fordidge-Trout, a singular species, 141.

Frogs, wonderfully sustained, 143 — their enmity to the Pike, 219 — how
to bait with, 223.

Friar-Fish, strange story of, from Rondeletius, lll,n.

Fulimart, not precisely ascertained what animal, 95, n. — known at the
Furrier's by the name of Filmart,482, Appendix, tll. April, Dun, n.

Fuller, entertaining specimen of a conversation between him and
Walton, 23.

Fulman, William, not the Author of the Whole Lutyof Man^ 50, n.

Furs, the several sorts of, used for Dubbing, 178, n.

G.

G.<iZZ 5',Malpighi'8 account of their formation, 184, n.

Gat, John, the Poet, an Angler, 288, n. — Quotation from his poem, en-
titled Rural Sports, ibid.

Generation, equivocal or spontaneous, the doctrine of, exploded, 166, n.

Gentles, how to breed, 295 — a good bait for Dace, thrown as an artificial
Fly, 298, n.

Gerhard. John, the Herbalist, account of, 257, n,

Gesner, Conrade, the Naturahst, account of, 110, n.

Gold-Fish, brought from China, 311, n.

Grashopper, where found, 141, n. — how to preserve, 303, n. — ^an excel-
lent bait for Dace or Chub, thrown as an artificial fly, 297, n.

Grass, Indian, how to prepare and keep, 329, n.

Graves, how to be used as Ground-bait, 267, n.

Grayling, observations on, 201 — when perfectly in season, 415, 420— how
to fish for, 202, 414, 420.

Green-Drake, his history, 432 — hpw to make, 433.

Grey-Drake, wonderful account of, 168, n. — how to make, 434.

Ground-bait for Bream and Carp, 243 — ^for Barbel, 267, n. — for Roach and
Dace, 298, n.

Grub, an excellent Winter-bait, how to find, 294 — Ash-grub, how to keep,
454 — how to bait with for Grayhng, ibid.

Gudgeon, observations on, and how to fish for, 271.

Guiniad, a rare fish, 264.

Gut, (Silk-worm,) used for lines; its advantages and disadvantages,
328, n.

Gypsies, a gang of, diifer about the division of their booty, 190.

G G 2

606 INDEX.

H.

IIACKLE.IVORM—See Palmer.

Haeih'feaihersy how to get, 179, n.

Haht how to choose, 326 — how to dye, 328 — Single h'air^ in some cases

recomtnended, 307, n. 327, n. — Double hairs^ whether better, open

or twisted? 407.
Hakiwill, Dr. — account of his book on Providence, 197, n.
Hamptbircy famous for Trout rivers, 196.
Harviy, Christopher t supposed to be the Author of the Synagogue^ printed

with Herbert's Foems, 186, n. — Verses by him, 186.
JIaself for rods and tops, when to cut, 326, n.
Haivkingy the praise of, 89 — with Sparroivs for butterflies, 91, n.
Haiutborn-Jlyy where found, 184.

Herbert, Mr. George, biographical sketch of, 37. [And see rerses.]
HeroHi caught with a hook baited with a fish, 274.
Hooker, Mr. Richard^ biographical sketch of, 36 — account of his visit

to Bishop Jewel, 25, n.
Hooksy for Trolling and Snapping^ 226, n. — Method of whipping-on hooks,

301, n. — those of Kirby excellent for their shape and temper, 301, n.

— how to disentangle a hook from weeds, 300, n.
Horse-leech-Flyy taken by the Salmon^ 210, n. — how tp make, ibid.
Hunting, the praise of, 94.

HuTCHEsoN, Dr., a fine reflection of his on the community of our enjoy-
ments, 281, n.

I.

JAMES the First, a great censurer of Tobacco, 394, n.

Indian, or Sea-Grass, the use of it recommended, 328, n.

Johnson, Ben, a passage in his « Silent Woman," explained, 286, n.

Joxivs Faulus, account of, 23S, n.

Isabella, Infanta of Spain, an instance of her zealous sympathy in her

husband's undertakings, 426, n.
Isabella- colour, what, 426, n.

K.

KEMBLE, a Martyr, smokes tobacco on his way to the stake, 394, n.
Kennet, a fine Trout-river, 1 99, n. last paragraph.
Kirby, a hook-maker, account of, 301, n. — taught to temper hooks by
Prince Rupert, ibid.

L.

LADIES, angle in the canal In St, James's Park, 323, n.
Lampreys, tame, account of, 257.

I?fDEX, 507

Laneare, Nicholas, a song of liis composing, 189.
larceny, cannot be committed oi jisb at large in ponds, 471.

Last-Spring, a fish so called, observations on, and manner of fishing
for, 203, n. 212, n. — The river Wye, in Wales, abounds with,
388, n.

Lawes, Hairy, a song of his composing, 285.

Laivs of Angling, a Discourse on, 461. .

Ledger-bait, described, 222.

L.ELAND, his account of the rise of the Thames, 315, n.

IjEmery, his definition of the Rosicrucian Chemistry, 296, n.

L.ESSIUS, Leonard, account of, 172, n.

Lines, how to make, 326; and 327, n. [and see Hair, Indian-Grass, and
Sili-ivorm-gut'] — how to twist with an engine, 328, n. — Running-
line, 163, n. — Line for Fly-fshing, 328, n. — for Float-fshing, 307,
n. — for Trolling, 226, n. — for Snapping, 228, n, — for Laying, 262,
n^paragr. ull, — lane, in Fly-fishing, how to throw, 405, and n.

Line-cases, their usefulness, and how to make, 300, n.

Loach, described, 310 — how to be used as a bait, 1G4, 313 — strongly re-
commended by Cotton, 457.

Lob EL, Matthias de, a botanist, account of, 25fe, n.

Locke, his notion of property, 466.

Londoners, excellent Roach- Anglers, 292.

Luce — See Pike.

M.

MACRO BIUS, Aurelius, account of, 99, n.

Mallards-feathers, when directed to be used, should be those of the wild
Mallard, 489. A pp. IV. May.

Malpighi, his discovery of the production of the Oah-fiy, 184, n.

Mark ham, Gervase, whimsical qualifications required by him in an
Angler, 102, n.

Marlow, Kit, the poet, his lamentable death, 147, n.

Masaniello — See Anello.

Mascal, Mr. the person who first brought Carps into England, 231,
&n.

Matthiolus, Petrus Andreas, notice of, 312, n.

May-fly, greedily taken by the Trout, 144 — history of, 168, n. — where
found, 184 — several flies contend for that title, 429,431 — Walton's
directions to make, 182 — Cotton's, 433, 484.

Mercator, Gerard, account of, 140, n.

Miller' s-thumb, described, 310 — a bait sometimes preferable to the Min-
now, 457.

'lAx-LTo^, the Poet ; and his father, well-skilled in Musick, 286, n.

Minnoiv, described, 309 — where to find, 163 — how to bait with in an-
gling for a large ^out, 163, 312 — how to angle with for Pikey 229,
n. — how to angle with ior Pear ch, 253, n. — Artifcial Minnow, Di-
rections how to make, 165 — disapproved by Cotton, 457.

Minnoiv-Tansies, how to make, 309.

Montaigne, his apology for playing with his Cat, 88,

Musick, better understood formerly than now, 287, n. b* seq.

^

508 INDEX.

N.

KEJV-RIFER, when completed, 10, n.

Night- Anglings censured, 195, n.

NowEL, Dean^ an angler, 119— not ascertained whether he was the com-
piler of our Church Catechism, 120, n.— Story of the bursting of his
ale-bottle, 121, n.

O.

OAK-APPLE^ the nidus of the Oak-fly in its vermicular state, 184, n.
Oak-Jly^ where found when at maturity, 184 — Directionsfor making, 182

— Fuller directions for making, 477, Appendix, II. May.
Oils J to allure Fish, 21 1, andn. — the efficacy of them doubtful, 296,456 —

[And see Assa-fmtida.']
Ointment^ for the eyes ^ \*fc. made from Umber's fat and honey, 201.
Otters, great destroyers of Fish, 127 — may be tamed to catch Fish, 128

— Water-proof gloves, made of Otter skh, 126 — Scene descriptive

of Otter-huntings 126.
Owen, John, epigram by, 100, n.

P.

PAKINGTON, Lady Dorothyt considered to be the Writer of the

Whole Duty of Man, 50.
Palmer-Worm or Pilgrim- Worm, sketch of various kinds of, 166 — History

of the Palmer-worm, 169.
Palmer, artifcial, how to make, 423, n.— never to be made with wings, ?^V.
Pastes, for Chub, 138— for Carp, 237, 8 — one may be made to keep all the

year, and will serve for other fish, 238 — Pastes for Bream, 241 — for

Tench, 249— for Roach and Dace, 293, 298, n.
P^arcA, observations on, 250 — directions how to fish for, 251— The Min-
now, a good bait for, 253, n. — paragr. ult.
Perkins, William, the Theologist, a lover of angling, 119— account of,

119, n.
Peter, St., the Protestants deny that he was ever at Rome, 100, n. — an

epigram occasioned by the question, ibid.
Peucerus, Gasper, account of, 194.
Pigeons, used to convey intelligence between armies, 92.
Pike, observations on, 214 — ^his longevity, 214 — surprising Instances of his

voracity, 215, andn. — and of pikes of great magnitude, 216, n.
— — Directions how to fish for, 223, b* seq.i 19— how taken with a Min-

noiVf 229, n. [And see Trolling.']
Plummet, in fishing for Trout with a worm, to be proportioned to the

stream, 172.
Pope, or Ruffe, observations on, and how to fish for, 272.
Position, in Angling, wlidit to take, 176, 182, 183.
Property, in many of the objects of sense not necessary to our enjoyment

of them, 281, n. — Mr. Locke's notion of property In general, 466.
Purple Island^ The, a fine poem ; quotations from it, 283, n.

INDEX. 509

Q.

Qt7'££iV Elizabeth, her wish in May, 150;

R.

RALEIGH^ Sir Walter^ his answer to the Milkmaid'a song, 151.
Ray, the Naturalist^ observation of his, on the emigration offish, 206, n,

— his opinion about the raining of frogs, 223, n.
Rbeves, Johriy a Thames waterman, retained by a company of Anglers,

291, n.
Rivers^ account of the chief, in England, 314, b* seq. — a caution respect-
ing a simiharity in the names of rivers, 388, n.>— subterraneous rivers,

106 — Strange properties of rivers, ibid,
J?ortf^, observations on, 290 — how to fish for, 292 — ^Ants-eggs, a bait for,

297, n. — Large roach caught at London-Bridge, 291 — How to broil

roach, 299, n.
Roc QUE, the Engraver^ a story of him, 314, n.
Rods^ how to make, 325, n. 404; 17 — how to mend, 300, n. paragr. ulf.

Rod for Trout and Salmon-fishing ; see Winch. Casting Rod into th«

water to a large fish, recommended by Walton, 194; disapproved

by Cotton, 458.
RoNDELET, Gillaume, account of, 110, n.

Rosicruciatij, account of, 296, n. •

Rud^ a mongrel fish, 291 — Account of one caught with a Minnow, 313, n.
Rujiy or Popcj observations on, and how to fish for, 272.
Rules y Additional, and Cautions, 494.
Running-Line,how to make, 163, n.— its use, ibid.
Rupert, Prince, tzught Kirby to temper his hooks, 301, n. — the inventor

of scraping in Mezzotinto, ibid^.

S.

SALMON, observations on, 205~howto fish for, 209, 210, n.— Flies for
to be made gaudy and large, 210, n.— Directions how to make the
Horseleech-Fly, 210, n.

Salmon-Leaf, in the river Tivy, described, 207.

Salmon-Spaivn,zn excellent bait, 298, n.—howto preserve, 299, n.

Salviano, Hippolito, account of, 202, n.

Samlet, observations on, 141, 205.

Sanderson, Bishop, Biographical Sketch of, 44,

Sandys, Mr, George, account of, 92, n.

Sea-Grass, recommended for hook-lines, 328, n.

Severn, its head and course, 315.

Sheldon, Archbishop, a great Angler for Umber and Barbel, 269.

Shoes, how to preserve from wet, 299, n.

Sili-worm-Gut, the use of, in hook-lines, 328, n.

Silver- Fishi brought from China, 311, n.

510 INDEX.

Skegger-Salmotiy how bred, 206 — Shgger-Troutsy 141.

Smelts f an instance of a vast quantity caught in the Thames, 263, n.

Snap' Anglings various methods of, 228, n.

Snigling for Eels, manner of, 260.

Songsy the Mili-maicTs, 149— her Mothers., 151 — Cor'idons, 156 — the
Angler Sy 158 — Kennas with the Musick, 189 — An Invitation to
Angling, by Mr. Cotton, 278, n. — A second Angler s Song^ with the
Musick in two parts, 285 — Piseatorsy 276,

Spaivn of most Fish, a good general-bait, 302.

Starlings Feathers y in Fly-making, the best for wings, 178, n. paragr. 6.

Sticilehagyhow to be used as a bait, 164, 312.

Sivallonvsy caught with a rod and line, 273.

Sivansf penalty for stealing, and the reason thereof, 113,n,

T.

TACKLE, what the Angler should be furnished with, SCO, n. [And see
Hodsy Lines, Hooks y Baits.']

Tecony Fish so called by Walton, supposed to be the Last-Spring,
212, n.

7>«f-6, observations on, 247 — breeding of, in ponds, 321, tS* seg. — how to
fish for, 249 — Account, from Rondeletius,of a strange cure performed
at Rome by the outward application of a Tench, 247.

Thames y its head and course,.314 — the common opinion of its rise refuted,
ibid. n.

Thor rocky Truckle , or Coble y its use in some countries, 203, n.

Throiving the line, in Fly-fishing, Directions for, 405, and n.

Tobaccoy James the First a vehement censurer of, 394, n.

Tombs, Ji^owaj, an Angler ; epitaph on him in Hampton church-yard,
292, n.

ToPSEL, Edwardy the Naturalist, account of, 143, n.

Tradescants, Messrs. Horticulturists, account of, with the inscription
on the tomb of the grandfather, father, and son, in Lambeth church-
yard, 108, n.

Trenty its head and course, 316, 386.

Trolling, various ways of, described, 226, n. — New-invented hooks for,
227, n.

Trout, observations on, 140— how to fish for, 160— how to angle for, with
a Minnoiv or Loach, 163 — with a Sticklebaa;, 312— with a Fly., 402,
et seg. usgue ad 447 — with a Worm, 453 [and see Plummet'] — with a
large Telloiv Cadis, 306. — How to dress a Trout, 448— Singular kind
of Trout at Fordidge, near Canterbury, 141.

Truekle'-~See Thorrocle.

V.

VARRO, M. T. account of, 99, n.
Venabi.Es, Col. Rob., author of a book on Angling, 30.
Verses; oi Barker the Angler, 183, n. 225, n.— of Co«ort, 54,349, 353,
355, 356, 358, 361, 363, 373.— from Coivley, 35, 340, n.— by Jo. Da-

INDEX,

511

n»orf, 123 — ^by Dr. Dontte^^SS — from Drayton s Polyolbion, 207 — ^from
his Sonnets, 316— from Du Bartas, 110, 1 1 3, 114, 1 70— from Fletchers
Piscatory Eclogues, 283, 284, n. — from his Purple Island, 283, n. — •
from Gay, 288, n. — ^by Christopher Har'uey, 186 — of Mr. Herbert,
109, 185 — from Martialy 198, 340, n. — horn Randolph, 2Sly n. — from
the Setrets of Angling, 212, n. — ^by Walton, called the Angler's Wish,
189— by him on Dr. Donne, 49— by Sir Henry fVotton, 35, 122, 336,
388. [And see Songs.]

f^^rjtfj. Commendatory, to Walton, 71, ts* sej.

Umber— See Grayling.

W.

WALLERythe Poet, a lover of the angle, 288.

Walton, Mr. Isaac; his birth, 8 — keeps a shop in the Royal Burse,
Cornhill, 8 — occupies half a shop in Fleet Street, 9 — married tn
Miss Anne Ken, 9 — retires from business, 10. — Angling his fa-
vourite recreation, 10. — Death of Mrs. Walton, lO — her Epitaph,
1 1 — Walton writes the Life of Dr. Donne, 1 1 — and of Sir Henry
Wotton, 12. — Publishes the Complete Angler, 13. — Five books on
Angling preceding Walton's, 14. — Sketch of Walton's character,
20 — and mental qualities, 21. — His Angler, successively improved,
goes through five editions in his lifetime, 22. — Walton writes the
Life of Hooker, 24 — and of Herbert, 25 — ^The Lives of Donne,
Wotton, Hooker, and Herbert, in 1670, were published together, 26
—with the fifth edition of the Complete Angler came out tlie second
part by Cotton, 26. — Walton writes the Life of Bishop Sander-
son, 31 — concluding paragraph admired by Dr. Johnson, 45. — Wal-
ton's friends were distinguished characters, 46 — Walton a Royalist,
and one of the persons instrumental in preserving the Lesser George
for King Charles, 47 — a High-churchman, 48 — writes a tract xn
favour of conformity, 48— The Author of Verses on Dr. Donne, 49
[And see Verses\ Began the Life of Sir Henry Saville, 50 — and to
collect materials for that of Hales, 50. — Publishes Chalkhill's Pas^
toraly 51. — Walton's death, 51. — Account of hia children, 52 — his
circumstances, 55. — His will, 57.

, Commendatory Verses to — See Verses Commendatory.

JVarpingy'm Fly-making, method of, 407.

Water-Knot, how to tie, 301, n.

Wears or Stops on the Thames, against Magna Charta, 292, n. — A great
number of them destroyed by Dickenson, Lord Mayor of London,
ibid.

Wharton, Dr. Thomas, account of, 99, n. 318.

Wheat, used as an ingredient in a general bait, 302.

Whitaker, Dr. William, the great divine, an angler, 1 19.

Whole Duty of Man, the composition of it attributed to Lady Dorothy
Pakington,50.

iJTiV/ of Walton, 57.

Winch, its use in Salmon and Trout-fishing, 199, n.

^/W, what is best to fish in, 181 — where to fish, according to the different
degrees of wind, 403, 446.

Woedcock-fy. See Oak-fly.

H H

512 INDEX.

IVorm ; Deiv^ Lobt^BraHdlingylBO—Garderty ox Ttvaebel } Gilt-tall f Marsl
or MeadoiUy ibid. — how to find, the Tag-tail; Oak-worm ; and Dock Of
Flag; 161, n. — how to find the Red-wormy 242. [And see Palmer'
•worm and Worms.']

W^rm-phingy 160 — at top, 195 — at bottom, 451.

Worms y an amusing way of obtaining, quoted from Erasmus, 162, n.—
how to order, keep, and scour, 161, n. — how to bait with a single one,
163 — how to bait with two, ibid. 451 — camphire mixed with the moss
makes the worms an alluring bait, 162, 297.

Worsted and Cr^w^/j, objections against them as materials for Dubbings 178,
n.paragr. 3.

WoTToN, Sir Henry y Biographical Account of, 33 — an Angler, 121.
[And see Verses.]

Wyey a river in Herefordshire, its head and course ; abounds with Gray-
ling and Last-Springs, 203, n.

Y.

TQRK Psalm-tuney composed by Milton's father, 286, n.

THE END.

Printed by Mercier and Chervet,

Little Bartholomew Close.

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