The compleat angler; or, The contemplative man's recreation: Being a discourse of fish and fishing not unworthy the perusal of most anglers

'ffb0Uy^

'U44Mn?yyLy

CORNELL

UNIVERSITY

LIBRARY

THIS BOOK IS ONE OF
A COLLECTION MADE BY

BENNO LOEWY

1854-1919

AND BEQUEATHED TO
CORNELL UNIVERSITY

Cornell University Library

SH 433.A1896

The compleat angler; or, The contempiativ

3 1924 012 431 544

Cornell University
Library

The original of tliis book is in
tlie Cornell University Library.

There are no known copyright restrictions in
the United States on the use of the text.

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"The COMPLETE ANGLER

All rights reserved

rhe

COMPLEAT ANGLER

or the CONrEMPL^TlVE M<i^N'S

%ECRE<iATlON : being a ^Discourse of

FISH and FISHING not unworthy the perusal

of most <iAngkrs : by IZAAK WALTON.

A New Edition edited with an Introduction by

ANDREW LANG, and illustrated by

E. J. SULLIVAN

LONDON : Published by J. M. DENT
and Company, at ALDINE HOUSE .1896

Edinburgh: T. b' A. Constable, Printers to Her Majesty

EDITOR S INTRODUCTION .
THE EPISTLE DEDICATORY .
THE EPISTLE TO THE READER

PAGE
XV

I

s

THE FIRST DAY

CHAPTER I. A CONFERENCE BETWIXT AN ANGLER, A FALCONER,
AND A HUNTER, EACH COMMENDING HIS RECREATION

THE SECOND DAY

CHAPTER II. ON THE OTTER AND THE CHUB

6i

THE THIRD DAY

CHAPTER III. HOW TO FISH FOR, AND TO DRESS, THE CHAVENDER
OR CHUB ......

80

CHAPTER IV. ON THE NATURE AND BREEDING OF THE TROUT,

AND HOW TO FISH FOR HIM . . . .89

CHAPTER V. ON THE TROUT . .Ill

vii

VUl

CHAPTER VI.

CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VIII.

CHAPTER IX.

CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER XI.

CHAPTER XII.

CHAPTER XIII.
SCALES

CHAPTER XIV.

CHAPTER XV.

CHAPTER XVI.

The COMPLETE ANGLER
THE FOURTH DAY

THE UMBER OR GRAYLING

THE SALMON

ON THE LUCE OR PIKE

ON THE CARP

ON THE BREAM

ON THE TENCH

ON THE PERCH

OF THE EEL, AND OTHER

FISH THAT WANT

OF THE BARBEL

OF THE GUDGEON, THE RUFFE, AND THE BLEAK

IS OF NOTHING, OR OF NOTHING WORTH

THE FIFTH DAY

CHAPTER XVII. OF ROACH AND DACE

CHAPTER XVIII. OF THE MINNOW, OR PENK ; LOACH ; BULL-
HEAD, OR miller's THUMB : AND THE STICKLE-BAG
CHAPTER XIX. OF RIVERS, AND SOME OBSERVATIONS OF FISH
CHAPTER XX. OF FISH-PONDS ....
CHAPTER XXI. ... . .

NOTES ....

rAG£

171

"74
IS2

201
210
222
225

230
242
248
251

267

284

z88
295
299

317

5AAK WALTON — FrotiUspiece

lADELEV MANOR.

AIL-PIECE TO EPISTLE DEDICATORY

O ALL READERS OF THIS DISCOURSE

AIL-PIECE TO THE EPISTLE TO THE READER

NTRANCE TO THE TOWN OF WARE FROM AMWELL END

From an old Drawing

YOU ARE WELL OVERTAKEN, GENTLEMEN ! '

ONRAD GESNER .

OCTOR NOWEL .

[R HENRY WOTTON

O ALL THE LOVERS OF ANGLING

MWELL HILL .

HE GLOVES OF AN OTTER

EAD-PIECE : ON THE OTTER AND THE CHUB

PAGE
1

3
5
9

II
13
39
47
S«
56
S8
60
61

The COMPLETE ANGLER

' AN HONEST CLEANLY HOSTESS ' .

THE anglers' inn, NEAR HODDESDON, HERTFORDSHIRE
' TWENTY BALLADS STUCK ABOUT THE WALL '
TAIL-PIECE . . . • ■

HEAD-PIECE : THE CHAVENDER OR CHUB
' YONDER IS THE HOUSE ' .
TAIL-PIECE TO CHAPTER III .

HEAD-PIECE : ON THE NATURE OF THE TROUT, ETC.
'l HAVE CAUGHT TWENTY OR FORTY AT A STANDING'
' 1 'lL GIVE YOU A SYLLABUB ' .

THE MILK-MAId's SONG

CORIDOn's OATEN PIPE ....
TAIL-PIECE : ' HERE IS A TROITT WILL FILL SIX REASONABLE
BELLIES ' .

head-piece : on the trout

* i think it is best to draw cuts '
coridon's song .....

* come, coridon, you are to be my bedfellow '
' good-morrow, good hostess ' .
ulysses aldrovandus ....
'come, scholar, come, lay down your rod '
a gang of gypsies ....

' BRIGHT SHINES THE SUN ; PLAY, BEGGARS, PLAY '
DRUMMING UP CARPS ....

SIR FRANCIS BACON

TAIL-PIECE TO CHAPTER V . . .

HEAD-PIECE : THE UMBER OR GRAYLING
TAIL-PIECE TO CHAPTER VI

73

■ 76

77

79

80

81

88

89

91

99

104

107

no

III

114

• '17

122

. 125

• 13 +

• 139

• 155

• 159

. 163

. 167

. 170

• 171

• 173

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xi

PAGE

ECE TO CHAPTER VH . . l8l

lECE : ON THE LUCE OR PIKE iSz

[M AS THOUGH YOU LOVED HIM ' . . 1 9 1

OOD FOR ANY BUT ANGLERS, OR VERY HONEST MEN ' . I 96

ECE TO CHAPTER Vm . . 1 98

HARD BAKER . . ZOO

lECE : ON THE CARP 20I

ECE TO CHAPTER IX . . 2O9

lECE : ON THE BREAM . . . ZIO

URSELF SO FAR FROM THE WATER-SIDE ' 21 S

lAY TAKE A PIPE OF TOBACCO ' 2I9

ECE TO CHAPTER X . . 22!

lECE : ON THE TENCH . 222

ECE TO CHAPTER XI .2 24

lECE : ON THE PERCH 22$

ECE TO CHAPTER XII . . 229

lECE : OF THE EEL . . . . 23O

TAS, CAMDEN, GERARD, AND RONDELET 23Z

[G EELS FROM A BRIDGE . 237

ECE TO CHAPTER XIII 24 1

lECE : ' THEY FLOCK TOGETHER LIKE SHEEP ' 242

ECE TO CHAPTER XIV .246

.BERT SHELDON . . . Z47

lECE : OF THE GUDGEON, ETC. . 248

ECE TO CHAPTER XV . . 25O

lECE : ' man's LIFE IS BUT VAIN ' . 25I

: A GIRL CROPPING CULVERKEYS AND COWSLIPS ' 257

The COMPLETE ANGLER

Xll

PAGE
TAIL-PIECE TO CHAPTER XVI . . ■ .266

HEAD-PIECE : OF ROACH AND DACE . . • 267

' FOLLOW THE PLOUGH, AND YOU SHALL FIND A WHITE WORM ' ZJl
MR. JOHN stubs' SHOP . . . ■ • ^7"

MR. margrave's SHOP .... 279

tail-piece to chapter xvii .... 283
head-piece: of the minnow, etc. . . . 284

TAIL-PIECE (dace) . . . . .287

head-piece : of rivers, etc. .... 288
michael drayton ..... 29i

TAIL-PIECE (gudgeon) ... . 294

HEAD-PIECE : OF FISH-PONDS .... 295

TAIL-PIECE (pope OR RUFFe) . . .298

HEAD-PIECE (the FAREWELl) .... 299

' let's NOW REST OURSELVES IN THIS SWEET SHADY ARBOUr' 3O9

The Illustrator would like to acknowledge his in-
debtedness to the beautifully engraved portraits in
Major's edition of 1824 ; and also to the courtesy of
Messrs. Farlow & Co., to whose wonderful flies only
scant justice can be done in black and white.

Hampstead, August 7, 1896.

NOTE AS TO TEXT

The text here reprinted is, in the main, that of Sir Harris

Nicolas, which was printed from Walton's Fifth Edition,

1676, the last that was revised by the author

To write on Walton is, indeed, to hold a candle to the
sun. The editor has been content to give a summary of
the chief, or rather the only known, events in Walton's
long life, adding a notice of his character as displayed in
his Biographies and in The Compleat Angler, with com-
ments on the ancient and modern practice of fishing,
illustrated by passages from Walton's foregoers and con-
temporaries. Like all editors of Walton, he owes much to
his predecessors. Sir John Hawkins, Oldys, Major, and,
above all, to the learned Sir Harris Nicolas.

xvi The COMPLETE ANGLER

HIS LIFE

The few events in the long life of Izaak Walton have
been carefully investigated by Sir Harris Nicolas. All
that can be extricated from documents b^ the alchemy of
research has been selected, and I am unaware of any
important acquisitions since Sir Harris Nicolas's second
edition of i860. Izaak was of an old family of Staffordshire
yeomen, probably descendants of George Walton of Yox-
hall, who died in 1571. Izaak's father was Jarvis Walton,
who died in February 1595-6 ; of Izaak's mother nothing
is known. Izaak himself was born at Stafford, on August
9, 1593, and was baptized on September 21. He died on
December 15, 1683, having lived in the reigns of Elizabeth,
James i., Charles i., under the Commonwealth, a nd under
■"CharTes 11. ^Tfae-anxie« s and chan g efiihg^e"tErough which
he^ passed is in contr ast with h is very pacific character and
tranguil piirsiiits.

Of Walton's education nothing is known, except on the
evidence of his writings. He may have read Latin, but
most of the books he cites had English tran slations . Did he

•~ iini. . rii ' ' ^™^

learnhis rdigion from ' msmother or his nurse ' ? It will be
seen that the free speculation of his age left him untouched :
perhaps his piety was awakened, from childhood, under
the instruction of a pious mother. Had he been orphaned
of both parents (as has been suggested) he might have been

INTRODUCTION xvii

less amenable to authority, and a less notable example of
the virtues which Anglicanism so vainly opposed to Puritan-
ism. His literary beginnings are obscure. There exists a
copy of a work, 7he Loves of Amos and Laura, written by
S. P., published in 1613, and again in 1619. The edition
of 1619 is dedicated to ' Iz. Wa.' : —

' Thou being cause it is as nofw it is';

the Dedication does not occur in the one imperfect known

copy of 1 61 3. Conceivably the words, 'as now it is ' refer

to the edition of 16 19, which might have been emended

by Walton's advice. But there are no emendations, hence

it is more probable that Walton revised the poem in 1613,

when he was a man of twenty, or that he merely advised the

author to publish : —

• For, hadst thou held thy tongue, by silence might
These have been buried in oblivion's night.'

S. p. also remarks : —

'No ill thing can be clothed in thy verse ';
hence Izaak was already a rhymer, and a harmless one,
under the Royal Prentice, gentle King Jamie.

By this time Walton was probably settled in London.
A deed in the possession of his biographer. Dr. Johnson's
friend. Sir John Hawkins, shows that, in f6i4, Walton
held half of a shop on the north side of Fleet Street, two
doors west of Chancery Lane : the other occupant was a
hosier. Mr. NichoU has discovered that Walton was
made free of the Iro nmongg rn' rnmpnny nn Nnv 12, i6i8.

xviii The COMPLETE ANGLER

He is styled an Ironmonger in his marriage licence. The
facts are given in Mr. Marston's Life of Walton, pre-
fixed to his edition of The Compleat Angler (1888). It is
odd that a pj:£ ntice ironmonger should have be en a poet
aniacritic of poetry. Dr. Donne, before 1614, was Vicar
of StTDunstan's iiTthe West, and in Walton had a parish-
ioner, a disciple, and a friend. I zaak greatly loved the
society of the clergTt.: he connected himself with J^p iscopaf
families, and had a natural taste for a Bishop. Through
n^nne; perliaps^ ■6TiT1?HfWfB'fS!!^PI?IKf6IS-"l!he counter,
he made acquaintance with Hales of Eton, Dr. King, and
Sir Henry Wotton, himself an angler, and one who, like:
Donne and Izaak, loved a ghost story, and had several in
his family. Drayton, the river-poet, author of the Polyolbion,
is also spoken of by Walton as ' my old d,eceased friend.'

On Dec. 27, 1626, Walton married, at Canterbury,
Rachel Jlou4, a niece, on the maternal side, by several
descents, of Cranmer, the famous Archbishop of Canter-
bury. The Cranmers were intimate with the family of
the judicious Hooker, and Walton was again connected
with kinsfolk of that celebrated divine. Donne died in
1631, leaving to Walton, and to other friends, a bloodstone
engraved with Christ crucified on an anchor : the seal is
impressed on Walton's will. When Donne's poems were
published in 1633, Walton added commendatory verses :—

' As all lament
(Or should) this general cause of discontent.'

The parenthetic 'or should' is much in Walton's

INTRODUCTION xix

manner. 'Witness my mild pen, not used to upbraid the
world,' is also a pleasant and accurate piece of self-criticism.
' I am his convert,' Walton exclaims. In a citation from a
manuscript which cannot be found, and perhaps never
existed, Walton is spoken of as ' a very sweet poet in his
youth, and more than all in matters of love.' ^ Donne had
been in the same case : he, or Time, may have converted
Walton from amorous ditties. Walton, in an edition of
- UoH Ue'ti poein a- of 1635, writ es of

' This book (dry emblem) which begins
With love ; but ends with tears and sighs for sins.'

The preacher and his convert had probably a similar
history o f the heart : a i~~wg~si iall see, Walton, like ihtf"
' Cyclops, had known Inve. — Early in 1639, Wotton wrote
to Walton about a proposed Life of Donne, to be written
by himself, and hoped ' to enjoy your own ever welcome
company in the approaching time of the Fly and the Cork.''
Wotton was a fly- fisher ; the cork, or float, or ' trembling
quill,' marks Izaak for the bottom-fisher he was. Wotton
died in December 1639 ; Walton prefixed his own Life of
Donne to that divine's sermons in 1640. He says, in the
Dedication of the reprint of 1658, that 'it had the appro-
bation of our late learned and eloquent King,' the martyred
Charles i. Living in, or at the corner of. Chancery Lane,
Walton is known to have held^parochial— office : he was
even elected ' scavenger.' He had the misfortune to lose

1 The MS. was noticed in The Freebooter, Oct. i8, 1823, but Sir Harris
Nicolas could not find it, where it was said to be, among the Lansdowne Mss.

XX The COMPLETE ANGLER

seven_chiMren — of whom the last died in 1641 — his^wife,

'^and his mother-in-law. In 1644 he left Chancery Lane,
^d pfoBaBIy retired trom trade. He was, of course, a
Royalist. Speaking of the entry of the Scots, who came,
as one of them said, ' for the goods, — rand chattels of the
English,' he remarks, ' I saw and suffered by it.'^ He also
mentio ns that he 'saw' shops shutJiy thpir4 3.wners t ill Laud

~Tho«l d- be put to death, i n January 1645. In his Life of
Sanderson, Walton vouches for an anecdote of ' the know-
ing and conscientious King,' Charles, who, he says, meant
to dojmbl ic pen ance for SFra A'ord'T' death , and for the
abolishing of Episcop acy in S cotland. But the condition,

"'^pcactable possession of the Crown,' was not granted to
Charles, nor could have been granted to a prince who
wished to reintroduce Bishops in Scotland. I Walton had
his information from x)r. Morley. On Nov. 25, 1645,
Walton probably wrote, though John Marriott signed, an
Address to the Reader, printed, in 1646, with Quarles's
Shepherd's Eclogues. The piece is a little idyll in prose, and
' angle, lines, and flies ' are not omitted in the description
of ' the fruitful month of May,' while Pan is implored to
restore Arcadian peace to Britannia, ' and grant that each
honest shepherd may again sit under his own vine arid fig-
tree, and feed his own flock,' when the King comes, no
doubt. ' About ' 1646 Walton married Anne, half-sister of
Bishop Ken, a lady ' of much Christian meeknesse.' Sir

^1 The quip about 'goods and chattels' was revived later, in the case of a
royal mistress.

INTRODUCTION xxi

Harris Nicolas thinks that he only visited Stafford occasion-
ally, in these troubled years. He mentions fishing in
* Shawford brook ' ; he was likely to fish wherever there
was water, and the brook flowed through land which, as
Mr. Marston shows, he acquired about 1656. In 1650 a
child was born to Walton in Clerkenwell ; it died, but
another, Isaac, was born in September 1651. In 1651
he published the Reliquiae Wottonianae, with a Memoir of
Sir Henry Wotton. Tne knight had valued Walton's
company as a cure for ' those splenetic vapours that are
called hypochondriacal.'

Worcester fight was on September 3, 1651 ; the king
was defeated, and fled, escaping, thanks to a stand made by
Wogan, and to the loyalty of Mistress Jane Lane, and of
many other faithful adherents. A jewel of Charles's, the
lesser George, was preserved by Colonel Blague, who in-
trusted it to Mr. Barlow of Blore Pipe House, in Stafford-
shire. Mr. Barlow gave it to Mr. Milward, a Royalist
prisoner in Stafford, and he, in turn, intrusted it to Walton,
who managed to convey it to Colonel Blague in the Tower.
The colonel escaped, and the George was given back to the
king. Ashmole, who tells the story, mentions Walton as
' well beloved of all good men.' This incident is, perhaps,
the only known adventure in the long life of old Izaak. The
peaceful angler, with a ^oyal jewel in _liis-pocket, must
have encountered many dangers on the highway. He was
a man of sixty when he published his Compleat Angler in
1653, ^^^ ^° secured immortality. The quiet beauties of

xxii The COMPLETE ANGLER

his manner in his various biographies would only have
made him known to a few students, who could never
have recognised Byron's 'quaint, old, cruel coxcomb' in
their author. ' The whole discourse is a kind of picture of
_ni;g _own di sposition, at least of my disposition in such days
-and timpg al T a11r»w _ myself wh en honest JMat.and~Rr R.
and -t-goLai ^shing togethe r.' Izaak speaks ot the possibiKtjj^
that his book may reach a second edition. There are now
editions more than a hundred ! Waltonians should read
Mr. Thomas Westwood's Preface to his Chronicle of the
Compleat Angler : it is reprinted in Mr. Marston's edition.
Mr. Westwood learned to admire Walton at the feet of
Charles Lamb : —

\ ' No fisher,

I But a well-wisher

I To the game,'

as Scott describes himself.^

f Lanib_iecommended Walton to Coleridg^-j-^kJicgathes
the very spirit of jn nocencei- puiily, anJ "g} iH)lidLv u f-fae atft-i
It would sweeten a manls-temoacat anv time to read

Ttl'it WOuid'Xhristianise every a n|Try, ^kmrrj^fn; pj^^'^QpY'
pray make yourself acquainted with it.' (Oct. 28, 179^.)
According to Mr. Westwood, Lamb had 'an early copy,'

1 Sir "Walter was fond of trout-fishing, and in his Quarterly review of Davy's
Salmonia, describes his pleasure in wading Tweed, in 'Tom Fool's light' at the
end of a hot summer day. In salmon-fishing he was no expert, and said to
Lockhart that he must have Tom Purdie to aid him in his review of Salmonm.
The picturesqueness of salmon-spearing by torchlight seduced Scott from the
legitimate sport.

INTRODUCTION xxiii

found in a repository of marine stores, but not, even then,
to be bought a bargain. Mr. Westwood fears that Lamb's
copy was only Hawkins's edition of 1760. The original
is extremely scarce. Mr. Locker had a fine copy ; there
is another in the library of Dorchester House : both are in
their primitive livery of brown sheep, or calf. The book
is one which only the wealthy collector can hope, with
luck, to call his own. A small octavo, sold at eighteen-
pence, The Compleat Angler was certain to be thumbed into
nothingness, after enduring much from May sho wer s^ J"ly
g uns, and fishy companionship. It is almost a wonder that
any examples of Walton's and Bunyan's first editions have
survived into our day. The little volume was meant to
find a place in the bulging pockets of anglers, and was well
adapted to that end. The work should be reprinted in a
simihiT format : quarto editions are out of place.

The fortunes of the book, the fata libelli, have been traced
by Mr. Westwood, There are several misprints (later cor-
rected) in the earliest copies, as (p. 88) 'Fordig' for 'Fordidg,'
(p. 152) 'Pudoch' for 'Pudock.' The appearance of the
work was advertised in The Perfect Diurnal (May 9-16),
and in No. 154 of The Mercurius Politicus (May 19-26),
also in an almanack for 1654. Izaak, or his publisher
Marriott, cunningly brought out the book at a season when
men expect the A^^fly._^Just a month before, Oliver
Cromwell had walked into the House of Commons, in a
plain suit of black clothes, with grey stockings. . His
language, when he spoke, was reckoned unparliamentary

xxiv The COMPLETE ANGLER

(as it undeniably was), and he dissolved the Long Parlia-
ment, While Marriott was advertising Walton's work,
Cromwell was making a Parliament of Saints, 'feithful,
fearing God, and hating covetousness.' This is a good
description of Izaak, but he was not selected. In the
jnids t of revolutiuii yXame'?% g Cwig ifeg r:^^?^r1i:o thelig ht,
a possession for ever. Its original purchasers are not likely
to have taken a Eana~in Royalist plots or saintly con-
venticles. They were peaceful men. A certain Crom-
wellian trooper, Richard Franck, was a better angler than
Walton, and he has left to us the only contemporary and

'contemptuous criticism of his book: to this we shall
return, but anglers, as a rule, unlike Franck, must have
been for the king, and on Izaak's side in controversy.

Walton brought out a second edition in 1655. He
rewrote the book, adding more than a third, suppressing
Viator, and introducing Venator. New plates were added,
and, after the manner of the time, commendatory verses.
A third edition appeared in 1661, a fourth (published by
Simon Gape, not by Marriott) came out in 1664, a fifth
in 1668 (counting Gape's of 1664 as a new edition), and
in 1676, the work, with treatises by Venables and Charles
Cotton, was given to the world as TTie Universal Angler.
Five editions in twelve years is not bad evidence of Walton's
popularity. But times now altered. Walton is really an
Elizabethan : hp_haa-4.he quaint freshness, the apparently

ar tless music of language of ^e p ;reat?a^e. feta Ja-alrten d'
of 'country contents ' : no lover <;if the town, no Icepn

INTRODUCTION xxv

studeivt of urban ways a nd mundane men. A new taste,
moJelieaTrTtnatof the wit^Ot Louis XiV.,iHtd-come in : we
are in the period ot Dryde n, and approaching that of P ope.

'inhere was no new edition of Walton till Moses Browne
(by Johnson's desire) published him, with 'improvements,'
in 1750. Then came Hawkins's edition in 1760. John-
son said of Hawkins, 'Why, ma'am, I believe him to be
an honest man at the bottom ; but, to be sure, he is
penurious, and he is mean, and it must be owned he has
a degree of brutality, and a tendency to savageness, that
cannot easily be defended.'

This was hardly the editor for Izaak ! However,
Hawkins, probably by aid of Oldys the antiquary (as Mr.
Marston shows), laid a good foundation for a biography
of Walton. Errors he made, but Sir Harris Nicolas has
corrected them. Johnson himself reckoned Walton's 1
Lives as ' one of his most favourite books.' He preferred
the life of Donne, and justly complained that Walton's
story of Donne's vision of his absent wife had been left
out of a modern edition. He explained Walton's friend-
ship with persons of higher rank by his being 'a great
panegyrist.'

The eighteenth century, we see, came back to Walton,
as the nineteenth has done. He was precisely the author
to suit Charles Lamb. He was reprinted again and again,
and illustrated by'Steddart and others. Among his best
editors are ^ajor (1839), 'Ephemera' (1853), Nicolas
(1836, i860), and Mr. Marston (1888).

xxvi The COMPLETE ANGLER

The only contemporary criticism known to me is that
of Richard Franck, who had served with Cromwell in
Scotland, and, not liking the aspect of changing times,
returned to the north, and fished from the Esk to Strath-
naver. In 1658 he wrote his Northern Memoirs, an
itinerary of sport, heavily cumbered by dull reflections and
pedantic style. Franck, however, was a practical angler,
especially for salmon, a fish of which W alton knew
nothing : he also appreciated the character of the great
Montrose. He went to America, wrote a wild cosmogonic
work, and The Admirable and Indefatigable Adventures of
the Nine Pious Pilgrims (one pilgrim catches a trout !)
(London, 1768). The Northern Memoirs of 1658 were
not published till 1694. Sir Walter Scott edited a new
issue, in 1821, and defended Izaak from the strictures
of the salmon-fisher, Izaak, says Franck, ' lays the stress
of his arguments upon other men's observations, where-
l with he stufFs his indigested octavo ; so brings himself
\ under the angler's censure and the common calamity of a
Iplagiary, to be pitied (poor man) for his loss of time, in
Ecribbling and transcribing other men's notions. ... I
l-emember in Stafford, I urged his own argument upon
liim, that pickerel weed of itself breeds pickerel (pike).'
Franck proposed a rational theory, 'which my Compleat
(Angler no sooner deliberated, but dropped his argument,
/and leaves Gesner to defend it, so huffed away. . , .' 'So
' note, the true character of an indusSi3ng~angler more
deservedly falls upon Merrill and Faulkner, or rather Izaak

INTRODUCTION xxvii

Ouldham, a man that fished salmon with but three hairs
at hook, whose collections and experiments were lost with
himself,' — a matter much to be regretted. It will be
observed, of course, that hair was then used, and gut is
first mentioned for angling purposes by Mr. Pepys. In-
deed, the flies which Scott was hunting for when he found
the lost MS. of the first part of Waverley are tied on
horse-hairs. They are in the possession of the descendants
of Scott's friend, Mr. William Laidlaw. The curious
angler, consulting Franck, will find that his salmon flies
are much like our own, but less variegated. Scott justly
remarks that, while Walton was habit and repute a
bait-fisher, even Cotton knows nothing of salmon. Scott
wished that Walton had made the northern tour, but
Izaak would have been sadly to seek, running after a fish
down a gorge of the Shin or the Brora, and the discomforts
of the north would have finished his career ^ In S cotland
he would not have found fresh sheets smelling of lavender.

Walton was m JLondon *in the daugLi 'o us year 165 5.'
He speaks of his meeting Bishop Sanderson there, 'in
sad-coloured clothes, and, God knows, far from being
costly.' The friends were driven by wind and rain into
' a cleanly house, where we had bread, cheese, ale, and a
fire, for our ready money. The rain and wind were so
obliging to me, as to force our stay there for at least an
hour, to my great content and advantage ; for in that time
he made to me many useful observations of the present
times with much clearness and conscientious freedom.' It

xxviii The COMPLETE ANGLER

was a year of Republican and Royalist conspiracies : the

clergy were persecuted and banished from London.

No more is known of Walton till the happy year 1660,
when the king came to his own again, and Walton's
Episcopal friends to their palaces. Izaak produced an
' Eglog,' on May 29 : —

« The king ! The king 's returned ! And now
Let 's banish all sad thoughts, and sing :
We have our laws, and have our king.'

If Izaak was so eccentrit as to go to bed sober on that
glorious twenty-ninth «ff May, I greatly misjudge him^
But he grew elderly. An i66i he chronicles the deaths of
' honest Nat. and^lCTRoe, — they are gone, and with them
most of my pleasant hours, even as a shadow that passeth
away, and returns not.' On April 17, 1662, Walton lost
his second wife : she died at Worcester, probably on a
visit to Bishop Morley. In the same year, the bishop was
translated to Winchester, where the palace became Izaak's
home. The Itchen (where, no doubt, he angled with
worm) must have been his constant haunt. He was busy
with his Life of Richard Hooker (1665). The peroration,
as it were, was altered and expanded in 1670, and this is
but one example of Walton's care of his periods. One
beautiful passage he is known to have rewritten several
times, till his ear was satisfied with its cadences. In 1670
he published hi s Life of G eorge Herbert. ' I wish, if God
shall be so pleased, that I may Be~sorIiappy as to die like
him.' In 1673, '" ^ Dedication of the third edition of

INTRODUCTION xxix

Reliquiae Wottonianae, Walton alludes to his friendship with
a much younger and gayer man than himself, Charles
Cotto n (born 1630), the friend of Colonel Richard Love-
lace, and ofSir John Suckling : the translator of Scarron's
travesty of Virgil, and of Montaigne's Essays. Cotton was
a roisterer, a man at one time deep in debt, but he was a
.^^yalist, aschol ar, and an agglej:^ The friendship between
him and Walton is" creditable to the freshness of the old
man and to the kindness of the younger, who, to be sure,
laughed at Izaak's heavily dubbed London flies. ' In
him,' says Cotton, ' I have the happiness to know the
worthiest man, and to enjoy the best and the truest friend
any man ever had.' We are reminded of Johnson with
Langton and Topham Beauclerk. Meanwhile Izaak the
younger had grown up, was educated under Dr. Fell at
Christ Church, and made the Grand Tour in 1675, visiting
Rome and Venice. In March 1676 he proceeded M.A.
and took Holy Orders. In this year Cotton wrote his
treatise ^ OQ— fly fi s hia g,jto be published with Walton's new
edition ; and the famous fishing house on the Dove, with
the blended initials of the two friends, was built. In 1678,
Walton wrote his Life of Sanderson. . . . ' 'Tis now too late
to wish that my life may be like his, for I am in the
eighty-fifth year of my age, but I humbly beseech Almighty
God that my death may be ; and do as earnestly beg of
every reader to say Amen ! ' He wrote, in 1678, a preface
to Thealma and Clearchus (1683). The poem is attributed
to John Chalkhill, a Fellow of Winchester College, who

XXX The COMPLETE ANGLER

died, a man of eighty, in 1679. Two of his songs are in
The Compleat Angler. Probably the attribution is right :
Chalkhill's tomb commemorates a man after Walton's own
heart, but some have assigned the volume to Walton
himself. Chalkhill is described, on the title-page, as 'an
acquaintant and friend of Edmund Spencer,' which is

impossible.^

r>n /^..j>,.c.- 9 Tf^Ro, W'Ti ^tPn wrot e his will, 'in the
neintyeth year of my age, and in perfect memory, for
which praised be God.' He ; professes the Anglican fa ith,
despite ' a very lonp; and very trew friendshj gJaLJpme of
the Ro m an ChurchT ^His worldly estate he has acquired
' neither by falsehood or flattery or the extreme crewelty
of the law of this nation.' His property was in two
houses in London, the lease of Norington farm, a farm
near Stafford, besides books, linen, and a hanging cabinet
inscribed with his name, now, it seems, in the possession of
Mr. Elkin Mathews. A bequest is made of money for
coals to the poor of Stafford, ' every last weike in Janewary,
or in every first weike in Febrewary ; I say then, because
I take that time to be the hardest and most pinching times
with pore people.' To the Bishop of Winchester he
bequeathed a ring with the posy, ' A Mite for a Million.'
There are other bequests, including ten pounds to ' my old
friend, Mr. Richard Marriott,' Walton's bookseller. This
good man died in peace with his publisher, leaving him

^ There is an edition by Singer', with a frontispiece by Wainewright, the
poisoner. London, i8zo.

INTRODUCTION xxxi

also a ring. A ring was left to a lady of the Portsmouth
family, ' Mrs. Doro. Wallop.'

Walton died, at the house of his son-in-law. Dr. Haw-
kins, in Winchester, on Dec. 15, 1683: he is buried in
the south aisle of the Cathedral. The Cathedral library
possesses many of Walton's books, with his name written
in them.'^ His Eusebius (1636) contains, on the flyleaf,
repetitions, in various forms, of one of his studied passages.
Simple as he seems, he is a careful artist in language.

SuCh'' are the scanty records, and scantier relics, of a very
long life. Circumstances and inclination combined to
make Walpole choose the fallentis semita vitae. Without
•jpiKi'f-i'rvn^ ccnrp tf^ be in the society of good men, he passe d
throupj h turmoil^ ever companioned b ycontent. For him
existence had its trials : he saw all that he held most
sacred overthrown ; laws broken up ; his king publicly
murdered ; his friends outcasts j his worship proscribed ;
he himself suffered in property from the raid of the Kirk
into England. He underwent many bereavements : child
after child he lost, but content he did not lose, nor sweet-
ness of heart, nor belief. His was one of those happy
characters which are never found disassociated 'from un-
questioning faith. Of old he might have been the ancient
religious Athenian in the opening of Plato's Republic, or
Virgil's aged gardener. The happiness of such natures
would be incomplete without religion, but only by such
tranquil and blessed souls can religion be accepted with

' 1 Nicolas, I. civ.

xxxii The COMPLETE ANGLER

no doubt or scruple, no dread, and no misgiving. In
his Preface to Thealma and Clearchus Walton writes, and
we may use his own words about his own works : ' The
Reader will here find such various events and rew^ards of
jiinflcaotTruth amj un dissembled Honesty, as is like to
leave in him pf he be a good-natured reader) more
sympathising and virtuous impressions, than ten times so
much time spent in impertinent, critical, and needless
disputes about.jeligioau' Walton relied 6h^ authority

/on *a plain, unperple xed ca techism.' In an ag ySTthe

1 iiiii r -- I -^ ^'r: >_^

strangest and most . „dissidgnJLJtIiefl]aa3raI _speculations, ali
age of -Q^kers, Anabaptists, AntinomianSy Fifth Monarchy

i an d w|) ai; not. Walton w as true to the authority of the
^ . With no prejudice agaiijst th^ annVnf -
Cathol ic faith. | As Gesner was his authority for pickerel
weed begetting pike, so the Anglican bishops were se-
curity for Walton's creed. \

To him, if we may say so, it was easy to be saved,
while Bunyan, a greater humorist, could be saved only in
following a path that skirted madness, and 'as by fire.'
To Bunyan, Walton would have seemed a figure like his
own Ignorance ; a pilgrim who never stuck in the Slough
of Despond, nor met Apollyon in the Valley of the
Shadow, nor was captive in Doubting Castle, nor stoned
in Vanity Fair. And of Bunyan, Walton would have
said that he was among those Nonconformists who
'might be sincere, well-meaning men, whose indiscreet

INTRODUCTION xxxiii

zeal might be so like charity, as thereby to cover a mul-
titude of errors.' To Walton there s^er^fH y;jirit^,3],pplarP
in remembering 'that w e have comforted a nH been help-
ful to a j^f j«^'~^■'^'^ ■-"■ >^;c«■l-pc■ra■^ Amiiy » Bunyan would
have regarded this belief as a heresy, and (theoretically)
charitable deeds ' as filthy rags.' i. Differently constituted,

these excdlrnt men arrpntpd rpHfrmn I'n (jjfFerent wavs.

Christian bows b p^"* ^] ' iiiii Ih ii mf "''" -fnP iscator beneath a

g a sket of trout. - T.pf ng V>p p^ra teful for the diver^i es of"

huma#lnature, and the dissimilar paths which lead Piscator

and Christian alike to the Citv not built with , hands.

JRni^h w ere seekers for a City which to have so nf yh*- f-hrrm p^h .

IjgjhiD^ilg^gjyjjQglj^Jgj^lJg^^ll^ljve^^

it . O f Walton's book we may say : —

' Laudis amore tumes ? Sunt certa piacula quae te
■Cer pure lecta poterunt recreare libeUo^

WALTON AS A BIOGRAPHER

It was probably by his Lives, rather than, in the first
instance, by his Angler, that Walton won the liking of
Dr. Johnson, whence came his literary resurrection. It is
true that Moses Browne and Hawkins, both friends of
Johnson's, edited The Compkat Angler before 1775- 1776,
when we find Dr. Home of Magdalene, Oxford, contem-
plating a 'benoted' edition of the Lives, by Johnson's
advice. But the WaltonofLjJie._ZiWi^iSjjt;ather than the
Walton of the Angler, the man after Johnson's own heart.

xxxiv The COMPLETE ANGLER

The Angler is ' a picture of my own disposition ' on
holidays. The Lives display the same disposition in
serious moods, and in face of the eternal problems of man's
life in society. Johnsgnj we know,~Wiis very foHH" of

biography, Tiad thought much on the subject, and, as
Boswell notes, ' varied from himself in talk,' when he dis-
cussed the measure of truth permitted to biographers. ' If
a man is to write a Panegyrick^ he may keep vices out of
sight ; but if he professes to write a Life, he must
represent it as it really was.' Peculiarities were not to be
concealed, he said, and his own were not veiled by Boswell.
' Nobody can write the life of a man but those who have
eat and drunk and lived in social intercourse with him.'
'They only who live with a man can write his life with
any genuine exactness and discrimination ; and few people
who have lived with a man know what to remark about
him.' Walton had lived much in the society of his
subjects, Donne and W iatton j with Sanderson he had a
slighter acquaintance ; George Herbert he had only met ;
Hooker, of course, he had never seen in the flesh. It is
obvious to every reader that his biographies of Donne and
Wotton are his best. In Donne's Life he feels that he
is writing of an English St. Austin, — ' for I think none
was so like him before his conversion; none so like St.
Ambrose after it : and if his youth had the infirmities of
the one, his age had the excellencies of the other; the
[earning and holiness of both.'
/St. Augustine made free confession of his own infirmities.

1

INTRODUCTION xxxv

of youth. With great delicacy Walton lets Donne also
confess himself, printing a letter in which he declines to
take Holy Orders, because his course of life when very
young had been too notorious. ) Delicacy and tact are as
notable in Walton's account of Donne's p overty, ni glan— -,
chol y, and convers ion through the blessed means of gentle
King Jamie. ^ Walton had an awful loyalty, a sincere
reverence for the office of a king.\ But wherever he intro-
duces King James, either in his/Donne or his Wotton,
you see a subdued version of the King James of The For-
tunes of Nigel. The pedantry, the good nature, the
touchiness, the humour, the nervousness, are all here. It
only needs a touch of the king's broad accent to set before
us, as vividly as in Scott, the interviews with Donne, and
that singular scene when Wotton, j isguised as Octavio
Baldi, deposits his long rapier at the door of his majesty's
chamber. Wotton,jn__Florence, was warned of a^otto
murder James vi. The duke gav^ him 'such Italian
antTdotes againsT'poisbn as the Scots till then had been
strangers to ' : indeed, there is no antidote for a dirk, and
the Scots were not poisoners. Introduced by Lindsay as
' Octavio Baldi,' Wotton found his nervous majesty accom-
panied by four Scottish nobles. He spoke in Italian ; then,
drawing near, hastily whispered that he was an Englishman,
and prayed for a private interview. This, by some art,
he obtained, delivered his antidotes, and, when James
succeeded Elizabeth, rose to high favour. Izaak's suppressed
humour makes it plain that Wotton had acted the scene

xxxvi The COMPLETE ANGLER

for him, from the moment of leaving the long rapier at
the door. Again, telling how Wotton, in his peaceful
hours as Provost of Eton, intended to write a Life of
Luther, he says that King Charles diverted him from his
purpose to attempting a Hjstory ^f KnglanH ' by a per-
suasive loving violence (to which may be added a promise
of j^50o a year).' He likes these parenthetic touches, as
in his description of Donne, ' always preaching to himself,
like an angel from a cloud, — but in none^ Again, of a
commendation of one of his heroes he says, ' it is a known
truth, — though it be in verse.'

A memory of the days when Izaak was an amorist, and
shone in love ditties, appears thus. He is speaking of
Donne : —

' Love is a flattering mischief ... a passion that carries us
to commit errors with as much ease as whirlwinds remove
feathers.'

' The tears of lovers, or beauty dressed in sadness, are observed
to have in them a charming sadness, and to become very often
too strong to be resisted.'

These are examples of Walton's sympathy, : his power of
portrait-drawing is especially attested by his study of Donne,

-as-4ifejSliflg-galJaat^nd_£oet, the uiihappyjoyer, the man
of .§tate__put o f place and neg lected : the heiavilv burdened

T^hsiltiie..co nscientious s cholar, the charmin g yet as cetic
preacher and divine, the sa mt w ho, dying, m akes himself,

JnJua-i^UL^^roud^an emSIem ot mortality.

As an example ot Walton's Tryle, lake ilife famous

vision

INTRODUCTION xxxvii

of Dr. Donne in Paris. He had left his wife expecting
her confinement : —

' Two days after their arrival there, Mr. Donne was left alone
in that room in which Sir Robert and he, and some other
friends, had dined together. To this place Sir Robert returned
within half an hour, and as he left, so he found Mr. Donne
alone, but in such an ecstacy, and so altered as to his looks, as
amazed Sir Robert to behold him ; insomuch that he earnestly
desired Mr. Donne to declare what had befallen him in the
short time of his absence. To which Mr. Donne was not able
to make a present answer : but, after a long and perplexed
pause, did at last say, " I have seen a dreadful vision since I saw
you : I have seen my dear wife pass twice by me through this
room, with her hair hanging about her shoulders, and a dead
child in her arms ; this I have seen since I saw you." To
which Sir Robert replied, " Sure, sir, you have slept since I
saw you ; and this is the result of some melancholy dream,
which I desire you to forget, for you are now awake." To which
Mr. Donne's reply was, "I cannot be surer that I now live
than that I have not slept since I saw you : and I am as sure
that at her second appearing she stopped, and looked me in the
face, and vanished. . . ." And upon examination, the abortion
proved to be the same day, and about the very hour, that Mr.
Donne affirmed he saw her pass by him in his chamber.

' . . . And though it is most certain that two lutes, being
both strung and tuned to an equal pitch, and then one
played upon, the other, that is not touched, being laid upon a
table at a fit distance, will (like an echo to a trumpet) warble a
faint audible harmony in answer to the same tune ; yet many
will not believe there is any such thing as a sympathy of souls,
and I am well pleased that every reader do enjoy his own
opinion. . . .'

xxxviii The COMPLETE ANGLER

He then appeals to authority, as of Brutus, St. Monica, -
Saul, St. Peter :—

* More observations of this nature, and inferences from them,
might be made to gain the relation a firmer belief; but I for-
bear : lest I, that intended to be but a relator, may be thought
to be an engaged person for the proving what was related to me,
... by one who had it from Dr. Donne.'

Walj^nlg wag nn Rnswpll ; worthy BoSWell WOuld haVC

cross-exam ined Dr. Don it&hi mself.

Of dreams he writes : —

' Common dreams are but a senseless paraphrase on our
waking thoughts, or of the business of the day past, or are the
result of our over engaged aifections when we betake ourselves
to rest.' . . . Yet ' Almighty God (though the causes of dreams
be often unknown) hath even in these latter times also, by a
certain illumination of the soul in sleep, discovered many things
that human wisdom could not foresee.'

Walton is often charged with superstition, and the
enlightened editor of the eighteenth century excised all
the scene of Mrs. ^ Donne's wraith as too absurd. But
Walton is a very fair witness. Donne, a manof imagi-
nation, was, he tells us,_inA.EgrtmJ;ed_an xiety abou t^MrsT
~Qonne. The event was after dinner. The story is, by
Walton's admission, at second hand. Thus, in the language
of the learned in such matters, the tale is ' not evidential.'
Walton explains it, if true, as a result of ' sympathy of
souls ' — what is now called telepat hy. But he is content
that every man should have his own opinion. In the same
way he writes of the seers in the Wotton family : ' God did

INTRODUCTION xxxix

seem to speak to many of this family ' (the Wottons) ' in
dreams,' and Thomas Wotton's dreams ' did usually prove
true, both in foretelling things to come, and discovering
things past.* Thus he dreamed that five townsmen and
poor scholars were robbing the University chest at Oxford.
He mentioned this in a letter to his son at Oxford, and the
letter, arriving just after the robbery, led to the discovery
of the culprits. Yetj yalton Dtateo the ciuscs aiiJ naturc -
of dreams in general with perfect sobriety a ad_clearHess—
~Hl!» tales Ol this sort were much to Johnson's mind, as to
Southey's. But Walton cannot fairly be called 'super-
stitious,' granting the age in which he lived. Visions like
Dr. Donne's still excite curious comment.

To that cruel superstition of his age, witchcraft, I
think there is no allusion in Walton. Almost as uncanny,
however, is his account o f Donne's preparation for death : —

' Several charcoal fires being first made in his large study, he
brought with him into that place his winding-sheet in his hand,
and having put oiF all his clothes, had this sheet put on him, and
so tied with knots at his head and feet, and his hands so placed
as dead bodies are usually fitted, to be shrouded and put into
their coflSn or grave. Upon this urn he thus stood, with his
eyes shut, and with so much of the sheet turned aside as might
show his lean, pale, and death-like face, which was purposely
turned towards the east, from which he expected the second
coming of his and our Saviour Jesus. In this posture he was
drawn at his just height, and, when the picture was fully
finished, he caused it to be set by his bedside, where it continued,
and became his hourly object till death.'

xl The COMPLETE ANGLER

Thus Donne made ready to meet the common fate : —

' That body, which once was a temple of the Holy Ghost,
is now become a small quantity of Christian ashes. But I shall
see it reanimated.'

This is the very voice of Faith. Walton was, indeed,
an assured believer, and to his mind, the world offered no
insoluble problem. But we may say of him, in the words
of a poet whom he quotes : —

' Many a one
Owes to his country his religion j
And in another would as strongly grow
Had but his nurse or mother taught him so.'

In his account of Donne's early tlieolo^al st udies of j he
^d ifferences^b etween Rome_giuLAiigli£^iism, it is manifest
that Izaak thinks riiese differences matters of no great
moment. Th ey are not for simple j neiL-to-selve- : Donne
has taken that trouble for him ; besides, he is an English-
man, and

' Owes to his countr y his rel igion.'

He will be no Covenanter, and writes with disgust of an
intruded Scots minister, whose first action was to cut
down the ancient yews in the churchyard. Izaak!sj:eligion,
and^ ll his lifsj^vgere rg otcd iir thc ^aatriifee the yew-tree.

/ He is what he calls ' the passive peaceable Protestan t.'
'The common people in this nation,' he writes, 'tliink

"^ey are not wise unless they be busy aboiit what they
understand not, and especially about religion ' ; Vas Bunyan

INTRODUCTION xli

was busy at that very moment. In Walton's opinion, the
^lain facts of religion, and of consequent morality, are
visnTfe as _^ilib sill] A\ i]iinnflay. The ve xed question s are
for the learned, and are solved variously by them. A man
must toilow authority, aS he finds it established in his own
country, unless he has the learning and genius of a Donne.
To these, or equivalents for these in a special privy inspira-
tion, ' the common people ' of his day, and ever since
Elizabeth's day, were pretending. This was the inevitable
result of the translation of the Bible into English. Walton
quotes with approval a remark of a witty Italian c.i a
populace which was universally occupied with Free-will
and Predestination. The fruits Walton saw, in preaching
Corporals, Antinomian Trusty Tompkinses, Quakers who
ran about naked, barking, Presbyterians who cut down old
yew-trees, and a Parliament of Saints. Walton took no
kind of joy in the general emancipation of the human
spirit. The clergy, he confessed, were not what he
wished them to be, but they were better than Quakers,
naked and ululant. J| ^ love Q uA ■luJ lii a ni:i^ i ,h bour,
and to honour the king^was- Walton'a unpupkAcd icligi u ii.
Happily he was saved from the view of the errors and the
fall of James ii., a king whom it was not easy to honour.
His social philosoph y was op p r,f pci-ciKHchPfl rank, tsm-
pered by equity and Christian charity. If anything moves
his tranquil spirit, it is the remorseless greed of him who
takes his fellow-servant by the throat and exacts the utter-
most penny. How Sanderson saved a poor farmer from

xlii The COMPLETE ANGLER

the greed of an extortionate landlord, Walton tells in his
Life of the prelate, adding this reflection : —

' It may be noted that in this age there are a sort of people so
unlike the God of mercy, so void of the bowels of pity, that
they love only themselves and their children ; love them so as
not to be concerned whether the rest of mankind waste their
days in sorrow or shame ; people that are cursed with riches,
and a mistake that nothing but riches can make them and theirs
happy.'

Thus Walton appears, this is ' the picture of his own
disposition,' in the Lives. He is a kind of antithesis to
John Knox. Men like Walton are not to be approached
for new ' ideas.' They will never make a new world at a
blow: they will never enable us to understand, but they
can teach__us..jQ_enda «i, aiid ev ea— to enjoy , th e w ofM>.
TKeir example is alluring : —

If

' Even the ashes of the just
Smell sweet, and blossom in the dust.'

THE COMPLEAT ANGLER

Franck, as we saw, called Walton 'a plagiary.' He was
a plagiary in the same sense as Virgil and Lord Tennyson
and Robert Burns, and, indeed. Homer, and all poets. The
Compleat -^gler -, the fa the r of so many books, is the~chiH'
^oTaifew.^ Walton not only adopts '•'^° "rininnn nnd TiHiirr
^tEe' auth'iE^rwhofi rBe'ares, but" also foHows the manner,
*° ^ '^^'"^^'P extent, of authors \yhom hedoes not quoted

INTRODUCTION xliii

His very exordium, his key-note, echoes (as Sir Harris
Nicolas observes) the opening of A Treatise of the Nature
of God (London, 1599). The Treatise starts with a
conversation between a gentleman and a scholar : it com-
mences : —

Gent. Well overtaken, sir !

Scholar. You are welcome, gentleman.

A more important source is The Treaty se of Fysshynge wyth
an Angle, commonly attributed to Dame Juliana Barnes
(printed at Westminster, 1496). A manuscript, probably
of 1430-1450, has been published by Mr. Satchell (London,
1883). This book may be a translation of an unknown
French original. It opens : —

' Soloman in hys paraboles seith that a glad spirit maket a
flowryng age. That ys to sey, a feyre age and a longc ' (like
Walton's own), ' and sith hyt ys so I aske this question, wyche
bynne the menys and cause to reduce a man to a mery spryte.'
The angler ' schall have hys holsom waike and mery at hys
owne ease, and also many a sweyt eayr of divers erbis and
flowres that schall make hym ryght hongre and well disposed in
hys body. He schall heyr the melodies melodious of the ermony
of byrde : he schall se also the yong swannes and signetes
folowing ther eyrours, duckes, cootes, herons, and many other
fowlys with ther brodys, wyche me semyt better then all the
noyse of houndes, and blastes of homes and other gamys that
fawkners or hunters can make, and yf the angler take the
fyssche, -hardly then ys ther no man meryer then he in his
sprites.'

This is the very ' sprite ' of Walton ; this has that vernal

xliv The COMPLETE ANGLER

and matutinal air of opening European literature, full of
birds' music, and redolent of dawn. This is the note to
which the age following Walton would not listen.

In matter of fact, again, Izaak follows the ancient
Treatise. We know his jury of twelve flies : the Treatise
says : —

' These ben the xij flyes wyth whyche ye shall angle to the
trought and graylling, and dubbe like as ye shall now here me
ten.

' Marche. The donne fly, the body of the donne well, and
the wyngis of the pertryche. Another donne fiye, the body of
blacke woll, the wyngis of the blackyst drake; and the lay under
the wynge and under the tayle.'

Walton has : —

' 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.' ^

Again, the Treatise has : —

Auguste. The drake fly. The body of black wull and lappyd
abowte wyth blacke sylke : winges of the mayle of the blacke
drake wyth a blacke heed.'

Walton has : —

' The twelfth is the dark drake-fly, good in August : the body
made with black wool, lapt about with black silk, his wings are
made with the mail of the black drake, with a black head.'

This is word for word a transcript of the fifteenth cen-

INTRODUCTION xlv

tury Treatise. But Izaak cites, not the ancient Treatise^
but Mr. Thomas Barker.^ Barker, in fact, gives many
more, and more variegated flies than Izaak offers in the
jury of twelve which he rendered, from the old Treatise,
into modern English. Sir Harris Nicolas says that the
jury is from Leonard Mascall's Booke of Fishing with Hooke
and Line (London, 1609), but Mascall merely stole from
the fifteenth-century book. In Cotton's practice, and that
of The Angler's Fade Mecum (1681), flies were as numerous
as among ourselves, and had, in many cases, the same
names. Walton absurdly bids us 'let no part of the line
touch the water, but the fly only.' Barker says, ' Let the
fly light first into the water.' Both men insist on fishing
down stream, which is, of course, the opposite of the true
art, for fish lie with their heads up stream, and trout are
best approached from behind. Cotton admits of fishing
both up and down, as the wind and stream may serve :
and, of course, in heavy water, in Scotland, this is all very
well. But none of the old anglers, to my knowledge, was
a dry-fly fisher, and Izaak was no fly-fisher at all. He took
what he said from Mascall, who took it from the old'
Treatise^ in which, it is probable, Walton read, and followed
the pleasant and to him congenial spirit of the mediaeval
angler. All these writers tooled with huge rods, fifteen or
eighteen feet in length, and Izaak had apparently never
used a reel. For salmon, he says, ' some use a wheel about
the middle of their rods or near their hand, which is to be

^ Barker's Delight ; or. The Art of Angling. 1651, 1657, 1659, London.

xlvi The COMPLETE ANGLER

observed better by seeing one of them, than by a large

demonstration of words.'

Mr. Westwood has made a catalogue of books cited by
Walton in his Compkat Angler. There is ^lian (who
makes the first known reference to fly-fishing) j Aldro-
vandus, De Piscibus (1638) ; Dubravius, De Piscibus
(1559)5 ^""^ *h^ English translation (1599) Gerard's
Herball (1633) ; Gesner, De Piscibus {s.a.) and Historia
Naturalis (1558) ; Phil. Holland's Pliny (1601) ; Ronde-
let, De Piscibus Marines (1554); Silvianus Aquatilium
Historiae (1554} :. these nearly exhaust Wa lton's sup ply
of authorities in natural history. H e- w as devoted, as
we saw, to a uthority, an d had a childl iTcg-^-faithLl-mj jhe

■-fenllSsffirtfeEDlTes wnich date ff om'Tliny.' ~ ' Plii^TiaSan
opinion that manyfties iiave~ their Dirtlr,~or being, from a
dew that in the spring falls upon the leaves of trees.' It
is a pious opinion ! Izaak is hardly so superstitious as the
author of The Angler's Vade Mecum. I cannot imagine
him taking ' Man's fat and cat's fat, of each half an ounce,
mummy finely powdered, three drams,' and a number of

1 other abominations, to ' make an Oyntment according to
Art, and when you Angle, anoint 8 inches of the line next
the Hook therewith.' Or, 'Take the Bones and Scull of
a Dead-man, at the opening of a Grave, and beat the same
into Pouder, and put of this Pouder in the Moss wherein
you keep your Worms,-^^af others like Grave Earth as
well.' No doubt grave earth is quite as efficacious.

^ These remarks sh ^yy h""-^ '^■'??iV was equipped in books

INTRODUCTION

and in practical information : it follows tt

rest, for what has made him the favourite of schoolboys
and sages, of poets and philosophers, he is indebted to none
but his Maker and his genius. That he was a lover of
Montaigne we know ; and, had Montaigne "been a' flsHt!!"'"
he might nave written somewhat like Izaak, but without
the £iety, the perfume, and the charm. There are authors
whose living voices, if we know~Eftem in the flesh, we
seem to hear in our ears as we peruse their works. Of
such was Mr. Jowett, sometime Master of Balliol College,
a good man, now with God. It has ever seemed to me
that friends of Walton must thus have heard his voice as
they read him, and that it reaches us too, though faintly.
Indeed, we have here ' a^Jund of pi cture of his own dis-
position,!_as_Jie_tells us Pi scator is the Wal ton whom"
"Konest Nat. and R. Ro e and Sir Henry Wotton~knew
dn fis hing-day s. The book is a set of ronfessioTis Twtthou t
ttTfiir^r.nmmnii lY iTir>rlMA-Jiirp.~2T~writf; not for money,

but for pleasure,' he says ; methinks he drove no hard
bargain with good Richard Marriott, nor was careful and
troubled about royalties on his eighteenpenny book. He
regards sc ofFers as ' an ab o mination to mankind,' for indeed
even DfT Johnson, who, a century later, set Moses Browne
on reprinting The Compleat Angler, broke his jest on our
suffering tribe. 'Many grave, serious men pity anglers,'
says Auceps, and Venator styles them 'patient men,' as

xlviii The COMPLETE ANGLER

surely they have great need to be. For our toil, like that
, of the husbandman, hangs on the weather that Heaven
\sends, and on the flies that have their birth or being from a
Vcind of dew, and on the inscrutable caprice of fish ; also,
in England, on the miller, who giveth or withholdeth at
his pleasure the very water that is our element. The
inquiring rustic who shambles up erect when we are lying
low among the reeds, even he disposes of our fortunes, with
whom, as with all men, we must be patient, dwelling ever —

' With close-lipped Patience for our only friend.
Sad Patience, too near neighbour of Desp^r.'

O the tangl^,jiiore than Gordia n, of gut o n awindy
day ! O bitter east wind that bloweth down stream !

"CTthe young ducks that, swimming between us and the
trout, contend with him for the blue duns in their season !
O the hay grass behind us that entan^ es the hook ! O
the rocky w all that breaks it. th e boughs that catch it;
the drought that leaves the^^ salmon-stream dry, the floods

^that fill it with turbid, impossible waters ! Alas for the
knot that^ breaks, and for the iron that bends; for the lost
landing-net, and the gillie with the gaff that scrapes the
fish ! \ Izaak believed that fish could hear ; if they can,
theiy-^vocabutafy'MusI"~Ee~Ti!ft--of--stran gG oath s, for all
anglers are not patient men. A malison on theTTmrt'that
'bulge ' and ' tail,' on the salmon that 'jiggers,' or sulks, or
lightly gambols over and under the line. These things,
and many more, we anglers endure meekly, being patient
men, and a light world fleers at us for our very virtue. \

INTRODUCTION

xlix

Tzaak^ of rr.ii,i-!^(;,Jygifj,(;

JJS,

thft.

S2flii

iple , of th e

jarimi''-V CtotiaiMTi ^"'^j 't th^manf^e*' 9^ ^^^'g.jf^- drowns

'^as&i

'(jpJ.-itt..ji«wii--»f»--'h«<t«^.iapQl;-,gf),,,jtp, g ufisfajaJjIL'^ never to a
*?S3filiiJ. There is a modern Greek phrase, ' By the Ersf
word of God, and the second of the fish.' As for angling,
' it is somewhat like poetry : men are to be born so ' ; and
many are born to be both rhymers and anglers. But,
unlike many poets, the angler resembles 'the Adonis, or
Darling of the Sea, so called because it is a loving and
innocent fish,' and a peaceful ; ' and truly, I think most
anglers are so disposed to most of mankind.'

Onii SninrnwiSaiMpmiiilirii ifrrniiiii finri fillirrrnni. '^' °^
course, a powerful argument. And it is certain that Peter,
James, and John made converts amon^ the twelve, for
' the greater number of them were found together, fishing,
by Jesus after His Resurrection.' That Amos was ' a

good-natured, p lain fisherm|i}/..p|ilj^^_^ Walton had faith

frmuph tn hell" five r He fixes pla(^V ^" "ip"«-irfpg !^T~t^;^c
Jn the Bible. ypitting-Homer. and that excellent Theo-
critean dialogue of the two old anglers and the fish of gold,
which would have delighted Izaak, had he known it ; but
. he was no great scholar ._ 'And let me tell you that in the
Scripture, angling is always taken. in the best sense,' though
Izaak does not dwell on Tobias's enormous capture. So
he ends with commendations of angling bv .Wotton. an d
Payors ( Dennys, more probably) author of The Secrets of

1 The COMPLETE ANGLER

Angling (1613). To these we may add Wordsworth,
Thomson, Scott, Hogg, Stoddart, and many minor poets
who loved the music of the reel.
t Izaalc next illustrates his idea of becoming mirth, which
y excludes ' Scripture jests and las civio us jests,' both of them
highly distasteHiTto^anglcrs. Then he coSSes to practice, be-
ginning with chub, for which I have never angled, but have
taken them by misadventure, with a salmon fly. Thence
we proceed to trout, and to the charming scene of the
milkmaid and her songs by RaIeigh_and^ferlowej^ ' I think
much better than the strong lines that are now in fashion
in this critical age,' for Walton, we have said, was the last
of the Elizabethans, and the new times were all for Waller
and Dryden, 'Chevy Chace ' and 'Johnny Armstrong'
were dear to Walton as to Scott, but through a century
these old fevourites were to be neglected, save by Mr.
Pe2Jg_^and A^^sgn. Indeed, there is no more curious proof
of the great unhappy change then coming to make poetry
a mechanic art, than the circumstance that Walton is much
nearer to us, in his likings, than to the men between 1670
and 1770. Gay was to sing of angling, but in ' the strong
lines that are now in fashion.' All this while Piscator
has been angling with worm and minnow to no purpose,
though he picks up ' a trout will fill six reasonable bellies '
in the evening. So we leave them, after their ale, 'in
I fresh sheets that smell of lavender.' Izaak's practical
advice is not of much worth; we read him rather for
sentences like this : ' I '11 tell you, scholar : when I sat last

INTRODUCTION li

on this primrose bank, and looked down these meadows, I
thought of them as Charles the Emperor did of the city of
Florence, " that they were too pleasant to be looked upon,
but only on holy-days."' He did not say, like Fox,
when Burke spoke of ' a seat under a tree, with a friend, a
bottle, and a book,' ' Why a book ? ' Izaak took his book
with him — a practice in which, at least, I am fain to
imitate this excellent old man.

As to salmon, Walton scarcely speaks a true word about
their habits, except by accident. Concerning pike, he quotes
the theory that they are bred by pickerel weed, only as
what 'some think.' In describing the use of frogs as bait,
he makes the famous, or infamous, remark, ' Use him as
though you loved him . . . that he may live the longer.'
A bait-fisher may be a good man, as Izaak was, but it is
easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle.
As coarse fish are usually caught only with bait, I shall
not follow Izaak on to this unholy and unfamiliar ground,
wherein, none the less, grow flowers of Walton's fancy,
and the songs of the old poets are heard. The Practical
Angler^ indeed, is a book to be marked with flowers, marsh-
marigolds and fritillarles, and petals of the yellow iris,
for the whole provokes us to content, and whispers that
word of the apostle, ' Study to be quiet.'

FISHING THEN AND NOW
Since Maui, the Maori hero, invented barbs for hooks,

Hi The COMPLETE ANGLER

angling has been essentially one and the same thing.
South Sea islanders spin for fish with a mother-of-pearl
lure which is also a hook, and answers to our spoon. We
have hooks of stone, and hooks of bone; and a bronze
hook, found in Ireland, has the familiar Limerick bend.
What Homer meant by making anglers throw ' the horn
of an ox of the stall' into the sea, we can only guess;
perhaps a horn minnow is meant, or a little sheath of horn
to protect the line. Dead bait, live bait, and imitations of
bait have all been employed, and ^lian mentions artificial
Mayflies used, with a very short line, by the Illyrians.

But, while the same in essence, angling has been im-
proved by human ingenuity. The Waltonian angler, and
still more his English predecessors, dealt much in the
home-made. The Treatise of the fifteenth century bids
you make your ' Rodde ' of a fair staff even of a six foot
long or more, as ye list, of hazel, willow, or ' aspe ' (ash ?),
and 'beke hym in an ovyn when ye bake,"and let him
cool and dry a four weeks or more.' The pith is taken
out of him with a hot iron, and a yard of white hazel is
similarly treated, also a fair shoot of blackthorn or crabtree
for a top. The butt is bound with hoops of iron, the top
is accommodated with a noose, a hair line is looped in the
noose, and the angler is equipped. Splicing is not used,
but the joints have holes to receive each other, and with
this instrument 'ye may walk, and" there is no man shall
wit whereabout ye go.' Recipes are given for colouring
and plaiting hair lines, and directions for forging hooks.

INTRODUCTION liii

'The smallest quarell needles' are used for the tiniest
hooks.

Barker (1651) makes the rod 'of a hasel of one piece,
or of two pieces set together in the most convenient
manner, light and gentle.' He recommends the use of
a single hair next the fly, — 'you shall have more rises,'
which is true, ' and kill more fish,' which is not so likely.
The most delicate striking is required with fine gut, and
with a single hair there must be many breakages. For
salmon, Barker uses a rod ten feet in the butt, ' that will
carry a top of six foot pretty stiffe and strong.' The
'winder,' or reel, Barker illustrates with a totally unin-
telligible design. His salmon fly 'carries six wings';
perhaps he only means wings composed of six kinds of
feathers, but here Franck is a better authority, his flies
being sensible and sober in colour. Not many old salmon
flies are in existence, nor have I seen more ancient speci-
mens than a few, chiefly of peacocks' feathers, in the
fly-leaf of a book at Abbotsford ; they were used in Ireland
by Sir Walter Scott's eldest son. The controversy as to
whether fish can distinguish colours was unknown to our
ancestors. I am inclined to believe that, for salmon, size,
and perhaps shade, light or dark, with more or less of
tinsel, are the only important points. Izaak stumbled on
the idea of Mr. Stewart (author of The Practical Angler)
saying, '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.' Our ancestors, though they did

liv The COMPLETE ANGLER

not fish with the dry fly, were intent on imitating the
insect on the water. As far as my own experience goes,
if trout are feeding on duns, one dun will take them as
well as another, if it be properly presented. But my
friend Mr. Charles Longman tells me that, after failing
with two trout, he examined the fly on the water, an olive
dun, and found in his book a fly which exactly matched the
natural insect in colour. With this he captured his brace.
Such incidents look as if trout were particular to a
shade, but we can never be certain that the angler did
not make an especially artful and delicate cast when he
succeeded. Sir Herbert Maxwell intends to make the
experiment of using duns of impossible and unnatural
colours; if he succeeds with these, on several occasions,
as well as with orthodox flies, perhaps we may decide that
trout do not distinguish hues. On a Sutherland loch, an
angler found that trout would take flies of any colour,
except that of a light-green leaf of a tree. This rejection
decidedly looked as if even Sutherland loch trout exercised
some discrimination. Often, on a loch, out of three flies
they will favoiu' one, and that, perhaps, not the trail fly.
The best rule is : when you find a favourite fly on a
salmon river, use it : its special favouritism may be a
superstition, but, at all events, salmon do take it. We
cannot afford to be always making experiments, but Mr.
Herbert Spencer, busking his flies the reverse way, used
certainly to be at least as successful with sea trout as his
less speculative neighbours in Argyllshire.

INTRODUCTION Iv

In making rods, Walton is most concerned with painting
them : ' I think a good top is worth preserving, or I had
not taken care to keep a top above twenty years.' Cotton
prefers rods 'made in Yorkshire,' having advanced from
the home-made stage. His were spliced, and kept up all
through the season, as he had his water at his own door,
while Walton trudged to the Lee and other streams near
London, when he was not fishing the Itchen, or Shawford
Brook. The Angler's Vade Mecum recommends eighteen-
feet rods : preferring a fir butt, fashioned by the arrow-
maker, a hazel top, and a tip of whalebone. This authority,
even more than Walton, deals in mysterious ' Oyntments '
of gum ivy, horse-leek, asafoetida, man's fat, cat's fat,
powdered skulls, and grave earth. A ghoulish body is the
angler of the Vade Mecum. He recommends up-stream
fishing, with worm, in a clear water, and so is a predecessor
of Mr. Stewart. 'When you have hooked a good fish,
have an especial care to keep the rod bent, lest he run to
the end of the line ' (he means, as does Walton, lest he
pull the rod horizontal) 'and break either hook or hold.'
An old owner of my copy adds, in manuscript, ' And hale
him not to near ye top of the water, lest in flaskering
he break ye line.'

This is a favourite device of sea trout, which are very
apt to 'flasker' on the top of the water. The Vade
Mecum^ in advance of Walton on this point, recommends
a swivel in minnow-fishing : but has no idea of an
artificial minnow of silk. I have known an ingenious

Ivi The COMPLETE ANGLER

lady who, when the bodies of her phantom minnows gave
out, in Norway, supplied their place successfully with
bed-quilting artfully sewn. In fact, anything bright and
spinning will allure fish, though in the upper Ettrick,
where large trout exist, they will take the natural, but
perhaps never the phantom or angel minnow. I once
tried a spinning Alexandra fly over some large pond trout.
They followed it eagerly, but never took hold, on the first
day ; afterwards they would not look at it at all. The
Fade Mecum man, like Dr. Hamilton, recommends a light
fly for a light day, a dark fly for a dark day and dark
weather; others hold the converse opinion. Every one
agrees that the smallness of the flies should be in pro-
portion to the lowness of the water and the advance of
summer.^

Our ancestors, apparently, used only one fly at a time;
in rapid rivers, with wet fly, two, three, or, in lochs like
Loch Leven, even four are employed. To my mind more
than two only cause entanglements of the tackle. The
old English anglers knew, of course, little or nothing of
loch fishing, using bait in lakes. The great length of
their rods made reels less necessary, and they do not seem
to have waded much. A modern angler, casting upwards,

1 I have examined all the Angling worics of the period known to me.
Gilbert's Angler's Delight (1676) is a mere pamphlet ; William Gilbert, gent.,
pilfers from Walton, without naming him, and has literally nothing original or
meritorious. The book is very scarce. My own copy is ' uncut,' but incom-
plete, lacking the directions for fishing 'in Hackney River.' Gervase
Markham, prior to Walton, is a compiler rather than an original authority on
angling.

INTRODUCTION Ivi

from the middle of the stream, with a nine-foot rod, would
have astonished Walton. They dealt with trout less
educated than ours, and tooled with much coarser and
heavier implements. They had no fine scruples about
bait of every kind, any more than the Scots have, and
Barker loved a lob-worm, fished on the surface, in a dark
night. He was a pot-fisher, and had been a cook. He
could catch a huge basket of trout, and dress them in
many different ways, — broyled, calvored hot with antchovaes
sauce, boyled, soused, stewed, fried, battered with eggs,
roasted, baked, calvored cold, and marilled, or potted, also
marrionated. Barker instructs my Lord Montague to fish
with salmon roe, a thing prohibited and very popular in
Scotland. 'If I had known it but twenty years agoe, I
would have gained a hundred pounds onely 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 : the
greedy angler will murmur at me, but for that I care not.'
Barker calls salmon roe 'an experience I have found of
late : the best bait for a trout that I have seen in all my
time,' and it is the most deadly, in the eddy of a turbid
water. Perhaps trout would take caviare, which is not for-
bidden by the law of the land. Any unscrupulous person
may make the experiment, and argue the matter out with
the water-bailie. But, in my country, it is more usual
to duck that official, and go on netting, sniggling, salmon-
roeing, and destroying sport in the sacred name of Liberty.

Iviii The COMPLETE ANGLER

Scots wha fish wi' salmon roe,
Scots wha sniggle as ye go,
Wull ye stand the Bailie ? No !
Let the limmer die !

Now 's the day and now 's the time,
Poison a' the burns wi' lime.
Fishing fair 's a dastard crime,
We 're for fishing ^^^ !

' Ydle persones sholde have but lyttyl mesure in the sayd
disporte of fysshyng,' says our old Treatise^ but in southern
Scotland they have left few fish to dysporte with, and the
trout is like to become an extinct animal. Izaak would
especially have disliked Fishing Competitions, which, by
dint of the multitude of anglers, turn the contemplative
man's recreation into a crowded skirmish ; and we would
repeat his remark, ' the rabble herd themselves together ' (a
dozen in one pool, often), ' and endeavour to govern and
act in spite of authority.'

For my part, had I a river, I would gladly let all honest
anglers that use the fly cast line in it, but, where there is
no protection, then nets, poison, dynamite, slaughter of
fingerlings, and unholy baits devastate the fish, so that
' Free Fishing ' spells no fishing at all. This presses most
hardly on the artisan who fishes fair, a member of a large
class with whose pastime only a churl would wish to
interfere. We are now compelled, if we would catch fish,
to seek Tarpon in Florida, Mahseer in India : it does not
suffice to ' stretch our legs up Tottenham Hill.'

Andrew Lang.

A

3St\^&^^i^

' Simon Peter said, I go a fishing : and they said.
We also will go with thee.' JOHN xxi. 3.

'To the Right worshipful

JOHN OFFLEY^

of Madeley Manor ^ in the County of Stafford
Esquire, My most honoured Friend

Sir, — I have made so ill use of your former favours,
as by them to be encouraged to entreat, that they
may be enlarged to the patronage and protection of
this Book : and I have put on a modest confidence,

2 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 men
of another belief, that Angling is an Art : and you
know that Art better than others ; and that this is
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 attend
you, and be eyewitnesses of the success, not of your
fortune, but your skill, it would doubtless beget
in them an emulation to be like you, and that
emulation might beget an industrious diligence to
be so ; but I know it is not attainable 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 Fishing,
of which you are so great a master, has been thought
worthy the pens and practices of divers in other
nations, that have been reputed men of great learn-
ing and wisdom. And amongst those of this nation,
I remember Sir Henry Wotton, a dear lover of this

The EPISTLE DEDICATORY 3

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 had
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 under-
taken, I could never yet see in English.

But mine may be thought as weak, and as un-
worthy of common view ; and I do here freely con-
fess, that I should rather excuse myself, than censure
others, my own discourse being liable to so many ex-
ceptions; against whicl^you. Sir, 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.

.->>• "° Sj:^

"The EPISTLE to the READER

I THINK fit to tell thee these following truths ; that I did
neither undertake, nor write, nor publish, and much less

I'

6 The COMPLETE ANGLER

own, this Discourse to please myself : and, having been too
easily drawn to do all to please others, as I propose not the
gaining of credit by this undertaking, so I would not
willingly lose any part of that to which I had a just title '
before I began it ; and do therefore desire and hope, if I
deserve not commendations, yet I may obtain pardon,

And though this Discourse may be iiable to some excep-
tions, 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 put on,
concerning the merit of what is here offered to their con-
sideration and censure ; and if the last prove too severe, as
I have a liberty, so I am resolved to use it, and neglect all
sour censures.

And I wish the Reader also to take notice, that in writing
of it I have made myself a recreation of a recreation ; and that
it might prove so to him, and not read dull and tediously, I
have in several places mixed, not any scurrility, but some
innocent, harmless mirth, of which, if thou be a severe,
sour-complexioned man, then I here disallow thee to be a
competent judge ; for divines say, there are offences given,
and offences not given but taken.

And I am the willinger to justify the pleasant part of it,
because though it is known I can be 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.

The EPISTLE to the READER 7

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 me tell the Reader, that in that which is the
more useful part of this Discourse, that is to say, the obser-
vations of the nature and breeding, and seasons, and catch-
ing of fish, I am not so simple as not to know, that a
captious reader may find exceptions against something said
of some of these ; and therefore I must entreat him to con-
sider, 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 j as
may appear by three rivers in Monmouthshire, namely,
Severn, Wye, and Usk, where Camden 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 hotter months.

Now for the Art of catching fish, that is to say. How to
make a man that was none to be an Angler by a book, he
that undertakes it shall undertake a harder task than Mr.
Hales, a most valiant and excellent fencer, who in a printed
book called A 'Private School of Defence undertook to
teach that art or science, and was laughed at for his labour.
Not but that many useful things might be learned 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 Angler ; 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

8 The COMPLETE ANGLER

encourage them. For Angling may be said to be so like
the Mathematicks, that it can never be fully learnt ; at
least not 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 some-
thing that may be worth their money, if they be not poor
and needy men : and in case they be, I then wish them to
forbear to buy it ; for I write not to get money, but for
pleasure, and this Discourse boasts of no more, for I hate to
promise much, and deceive the Reader.

And however it proves to him, yet I am sure I have
found a high content in the search and conference of what
is here oiFered to the Reader's view and censure. I 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 observe 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 used to appear about, 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, I have set down
the twelve flies that are in reputation with many anglers ;
and they may serve to give him some observations concern-
ing 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 fly to
counterfeit that very fly in that place, he is like to lose his
labour, or much of it ; but for the generality, three or four
flies neat and rightly made, and not too big, serve for a

The EPISTLE to the READER 9

Trout in most rivers, all the summer : and for winter fly-
fishing it is as useful as an Almanack out of date. And of
these, because as no man is born an artist, so no man is
born an Angler, I thought fit 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.

I. W.

2i\^)

T:he FIRST DAY

t/f Conference betwixt an Angler, a Falconer, and a
Hunter , each commending his 7{ecreation

CHAPTER I

PISCATOR, VENATOR, AUCEPS

PiscATOR. You are well overtaken, Gentlemen ! A good
morning to you both ! I have stretched my legs up Tot-
tenham Hill to overtake you, hoping your business may
occasion you towards Ware, whither I am going this fine
fresh May morning.

Venator. Sir, I, for my part, shall almost answer your
hopes ; for my purpose is to drink my morning's draught
at the Thatched House in Hoddesden j 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

11

12 7 he COMPLETE ANGLER

so lately into my company, that I have scarce had time to
ask him the question.

AucEPS. Sir, I shall by your favour bear you company as
far as Theobalds, and there leave you ; for then I turn up
to a friend's house, w^ho mews a Hawk for me, which I now
long to see.

Venator. 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 others' 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.'

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

Venator. And, Sir, I promise the like.

PiscATOR. I am right glad to hear your answers ; and,
in confidence you speak the truth, I shall put on a boldness
to ask you, Sir, whether business or pleasure caused 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.

Venator. Sir, mine is a mixture of both, a little business
and more pleasure ; for I intend this day to do all my busi-
ness, 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 chase whatsoever : 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

Tou are -well mertakm. Gentlemen I

The FIRST DAY 15

Hill, who will be there so early, that they intend to prevent
the sunrising.

PiscATOR. Sir, my fortune has answered my desires, and
my purpose is to bestow a day or two in helping to destroy
some of those villanous vermin : for I hate them perfectly,
because they love fish so well, or rather, because they
destroy so much ; indeed so much, that, in my judgment
all men that keep Otter-dogs ought to have pensions from
the King, to encourage them to destroy the very breed of
those base Otters, they do so much mischief.

Venator. 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.

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

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

PiscATOR. 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, and therefore do I hate the
Otter both for my own, and their sakes who are of my
brotherhood.

Venator. 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 scoiF at Anglers.

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

PiscATOR. You know. Gentlemen, 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 caught, even in

i6 The COMPLETE ANGLER

their own trap, according to that of Lucian, the father of
the family of Scoffers :

Lucian, 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 account them
enemies to me and all that love Virtue and Angling.

And for you that have heard many grave, serious men
pity Anglers ; let me tell 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, be-
cause nature hath made them of a sour complexion j money-
getting men, men that spend all their time, first in getting,
and next, in anxious care to keep it j men that are con-
demned 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 happy. 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 mutual 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

The FIRST DAY 17

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 a liberty to blame any man, and
laugh at him too, let him be never so grave, that hath not
heard 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.

Venator. Sir, you have almost amazed me ; for though
I am no ScoiFer, yet I have, I pray let me speak it without
oiFence, always looked upon Anglers, as more patient, and
more simple men, than I fear I shall find you to be.

PiscATOR. Sir, I hope you will not judge my earnestness
to be impatience : and for m y simplicity , if by that you
mean a harmlessness, or that simplicity which was usually
found in the primijive- -Christians,,, who were, as most
Anglers are, ^uiet men, and followers of peace ; men that
were so simply wise, as not to sell their consciences to buy
riches, and with them vexation and a fear to die ; if you
mean such simple men as lived in those times when there
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 simple 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.

1 8 The COMPLETE ANGLER

or prejudice, have possessed you with against that laudable
and ancient Art ; for I know it is worthy the knowledge
and practice 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 j ■
and, therefore, you two having declared yourselves, 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 j 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 to seem the shorter : and if you like my
motion, I would have Mr. Falconer to begin.
r AucEPS. 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 I use to trade in, which
is the Air, an element of more worth than weight, an
element that doubtless exceeds both the Earth and Water ;
for though I sometimes deal in bothj yet the air is most
properly mine, I and my Hawks use that most, and it
yields us most recreation. It stops not the high soaring
of my noble, generous Falcon ; in it she ascends to such a
height, as the dull eyes of beasts and fish are not able to
reach to; their bodies are too gross for such high eleva-
tions ; in the Air my troops 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 styled Jove's servant in ordi-
nary : and that very Falcon, that I am now going to see,
deserves no meaner a title, for she usually in her flight

The FIRST DAY ig

endangers herself, like the son of Daedalus, to have her
wings scorched by the sun's heat, she flies so near it, but
her mettle makes her careless of danger ; for she then
heeds nothing, but makes her nimble pinions cut the fluid
air, and so makes her highway over the steepest mountains
and deepest rivers, and in her glorious career looks with
contempt upon those high steeples and magnificent 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 necessity, that
no creature whatsoever — not only those numerous crea-
tures 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
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 I must not let them pass without some
observations. They both feed and refresh him ; feed him

20 The COMPLETE ANGLER

with their choice bodies, and refresh him with their
heavenly voices : — I will not undertake to mention 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 cheer
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 melodious
voices bid welcome to the cheerful 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 particular
seasons, as namely the Laverock, the Tit-lark, the little
Linnet, and the honest Robin that loves mankind both
alive and dead.

But the Nightingale, another of my airy creatures,
breathes such sweet loud musick out of her little instru-
mental 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 I have very
often, the clear airs, the sweet descants, the natural rising
and falHng, 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 ! ' ^ ■ - - —

The FIRST DAY 21

And this makes me the less to wonder at the many
Aviaries in Italy, or at the great charge of Varro's Aviary,
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, o f which very much more
might be said. My next shall be of birds of poli tical use.
I think it is not to be doubted that Swallows hav5~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, Piggflns 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, after a kind
of miraculous manner, he did it by Ravens, who brought
him meat morning and evening. Lastly, the Holy Ghost,^-
when he descended visibly upon our Saviour, did it by
assuming the shape of a Dove. And, to conclude this part
of my discourse, pray remember these 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 winged creature, an
inhabitant of my aerial element, namely the laborious Bee^
of whose prudence, policy, and regular government of their
own commonwealth, I might say much, as also of their

22 The COMPLETE ANGLER

several kinds, and how useful their honey and wax are both
for meat and medicines to mankind ; but I will leave them
to their sweet labour, without the least disturbance, believ-
ing 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 long-
winged, and the short-winged Hawk : . of the first kind,
there be chiefly in use amongst us in this nation,

The Gerfalcon and Jerkin,

The Falcon and Tassel-gentle,

The Laner and Laneret,

The Bockerel and Bockeret,

The Saker and Sacaret,

The Merlin and Jack Merlin,

The Hobby and Jack :
l-here 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 Tarcel,

The Sparhawk and Musket,

The French Pye of two sorts :
These are reckoned Hawks of note and worth ; but we
have also of an inferior rank.

The Stanyel, the Ringtail,

The Raven, the Buzzard,

The Forked Kite, the Bald Buzzard,

The Hen-driver, and others that I forbear to name.

The FIRST DAY 23

Gentlemen, if I should enlarge my discourse to the obser-
vation 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 feathers : their reclaiming,
dieting, and then come to their rare stories of practice ; I
say, if I should enter into these, and many other observa-
tions 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 entreat you, Mr.
Venator, to say what you are able in the commendation of
Hunting, to which you are so much affected ; and if time
will serve, I will beg your favour for a further enlargement
of some of those several heads of which I have spoken. But
no more at present.

Venator. Well, Sir, and I will now take my 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, whoIeS&me,
hungry trade. The Earth is a solid, settled element ; an
element most universally beneficial both to man and beast ;
to men who have 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, the
wild Boar, the cunning Otter, the crafty Fox, and the
fearful Hare ! And if I may descend to a lower game,
what pleasure is it sometimes with gins to betray the very
vermin of the earth ; as namely, the Fichat, the Fulimart,^
the Ferret, the Pole-cat, the Mould warp, and the like

24 The COMPLETE ANGLER

creatures that live upon the face, and within the bowels
of, the Earth. How doth the Earth bring forth herbs,
flowers, and fruits, both for physick and the pleasure of
mankind ! and above all, to me at least, the fruitful vine,
of which when I drink moderately, it clears my brain,
cheers 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 suit-
able, if the earth had not been a bountiful mother? But
to pass by the mighty Elephant, which the Earth breeds
and nourisheth, and descend to the least of creatures, how
doth the earth afford us a doctrinal example in the little
Pismire, who in the summer provides and lays up her
winter provision, and teaches man to do the like ! The
earth feeds and carries those horses that carry us. If I
would be prodigal of my time and your patience, what
might not I say in commendations 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 that 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.

Hunting is a game for princes and noble 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

The FIRST DA^// 25

Wild Boar, the Stag, the Buck, the Fox, or the Hare ?
How doth it preserve health, and increase strength and
activity !

And for the dogs that vfe. use, who can commend their
excellency to that height which they deserve ? How per-
fect 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 music doth a pack of dogs 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, I 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-creatures, that for composition, order,
figure, and constitution, approach nearest to the complete-
ness and understanding of man ; especially of those crea-
tures, wjiich Moses in the Law permitted to the Jews,
which have cloven hoofs, and chew the cud; 'which I
shall forbear to name, because I will not be so uncivil to
Mr. Piscator, as not to allow him a time for the commen-
dation of Angling, which he calls an art ; but doubtless it
is an easy one : and, Mr. Auceps, I doubt we shall hear a
watery discourse of it, but I hope it will not be a long one.

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

26 The COMPLETE ANGLER

PiscATOR. Gentlemen, let not prejudice prepossess you.
I confess my discourse is like to prove suitable to my re-
creation, calm and quiet; we seldom take the name of
God into our mouths, but it is either to praise him, or
pray to him : if others use it vainly in the midst of their
recreations, so vainly as if they meant to conjure, I must
tell you, it is neither our fault nor 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 diminution 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 living
creatures abundantly; and without which, those that
inhabit the land, even all creatures that have breath in
their nostrils, must suddenly return to putrefaction. Moses,
the great lawgiver and chief philosopher, skilled in all the
learning of the Egyptians, who was called the friend of
God, and knew the mind of the Almighty, 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 comprehend 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 :

The FIRST DAY 27

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 tree begins to grow, and then
weigh all together after the tree is increased from its first
rooting, to weigh a hundred pound weight more than when
it was first rooted and weighed; and you shall find this
augment of the tree to be without the diminution of one
drachm weight of the earth. Hence they infer this in-
crease of wood to be from water of rain, or from dew, and
not to be from any other element ; and they affirm, they
can reduce this wood back again to water ; and they affirm
also, the same may be done in any animal or vegetable.
And this I take to be a fair testimony of the excellency of
my element of water.

The water is more productive than the earth. Nay, the
earth hath no fruitfulness without showers or dews ; for all
the herbs, and flowers, and fruit, 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 trial 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 the preventing of sickness ; for it is
observed by the most learned physicians, that the casting,
^fF of Lent, and other fish days, which hath not only given
the lie to so many learned, pious, wise founders of col-
leges, for which we should be ashamed, hath doubtless
been the chief cause of those many putrid, shaking inter-

28 The COMPLETE ANGLER

mitting agues, unto which this nation of ours is now more
subject, than those wiser countries that feed on herbs,
salads, 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 appointed fish to
be the chief diet for the best commonwealth that ever
yet was.

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 enter-
tainments; they have had musick 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, or Varro, may be
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, discourse;
I met with most of it very lately, and, I hope, happily, in
a conference with a most learned physician. Dr. Wharton,^
a dear friend, that loves both me and my art of Angling.
But, however, I will wade no deeper into 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 known advantages.

And first, to pass by the miraculous cures of our known
baths, how advantageous is the sea for our daily trafEck,
without which we could not now subsist. How does it
not only furnish us with food and physick for the bodies.

The FIRST DAY 29

but with such observations for the mind as ingenious persons
would not want !

How ignorant had we been of the beauty of Florence,
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 consideration ! And therefore it is not to be
wondered at, that so learned and devout a fether as St.
Jerome, after his wish to have seen Christ in the flesh, and
to have heard St. Paul preach, makes his third wish, to have
seen Rome in her glory ; and that glory is not yet all lost,
for what pleasure is it to see the monuments of Livy, the
choicest of the historians ; of Tully, 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 humble 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 see the very
place in which St. Peter and he lie buried together ! These
are in and near to Rome. And how much more doth it
please the pious curiosity of a Christian, to see that place, on
which the blessed Saviour of the world was pleased to
humble himself, and to take our nature upon him, and to
converse with men : 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.

30 The COMPLETE ANGLER

Gentlemen, I 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 off, for I see Theobald's
House.® I cry you mercy for being so long, and thank you
for your patience.

AucEPS. Sir, my pardon is easily granted you : I except
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. Piscator, I now part with you full of
good thoughts, not only of yourself, but your recreation.
And so, Gentlemen, God keep you both.

Piscator. Well, now, Mr. Venator, you shall neither
want time, nor my attention to hear you enlarge your dis-
course concerning hunting.

Venator. 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.

Piscator. 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.

Venator. Pray, Sir, speak of them what you think fit,
for we have yet five miles to the Thatched House ; during
which walk, I dare promise you, my patience and diligent
attention shall not be wanting. And if you shall make

The FIRST DAY 31

that to appear which you have undertaken, 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.

PiscATOR. O, Sir, doubt not but that Angling is an
art ; is it not an art to deceive a Trout with an artificial
Fly ? a 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 some-
what like poetry, men are to be born so : I mean, with
inclinations to it, though both may be heightened by
discourse and practice : but he that hopes to be a good
angler, must not only bring an inquiring, searching, observ-
ing wit, but he must bring a large measure of hope and
patience, and a love and propensity to the art itself; 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.

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

PisCATOR. 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 Belus, who
was the first inventor of godly and virtuous recreations, was
the first inventor of Angling : and some others say, for
former times have had their disquisitions about the antiquity

32 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 wrhich he
erected, and trusted to preserve the knowledge of the
mathematicks, musick, and the rest of that precious know-
ledge, and those useful arts, which by God's appointment or
allowance, and his noble industry, were thereby preserved
from perishing 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 ou^^^asdDJtfJL
for in the Prophet Amos mention is made of fish-hooks;
and in the book of Job, 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 myself
a gentleman, by being learned and humble, valiant and
inoffensive, virtuous and communicable, than by any fond
ostentation of riches, or, wanting those virtues myself,
boast that these were in my ancestors ; and yet I grant,
that where a noble and ancient descent and such merit
meet in any man, it is a double dignification 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 virtuous art which I profess to love
and practise, I shall be the gladder that I made an acci-
dental mention of the antiquity of it, of which I shall say
no more, but proceed to that just commendation which I
think it deserves.

The FIRST DAY 33

And for that, I shall tell you, that in ancient times a
debate hath risen, and it remains yet unresolved, whether
the happiness of man in this world doth consist more in
contemplation or action ? Concerning which, some have
endeavoured to maintain their opinion of the first ; by
saying, that the nearer we mortals come to God by way
of imitation, the more happy we are. And they say, that
God enjoys himself only, by a contemplation of his own
infiniteness, eternity, power, and goodness, and the like.
And upon this ground, many cloisteral men of great learn-
ing 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.

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 doc-
trinal, and teaches both art and virtue, and is a maintainer
of human society ; and for these, and other like reasons, to
be preferred before contemplation.

Concerning which two opinions I shall forbear to add a
third, by declaring my own ; and rest myself contente4 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
I 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
c

34 the COMPLETE ANGLER

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 deserts, 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 children of
Israel, who having in a sad condition banished 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 ingenious 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 sure they have appeared so to me, and made many an
hour pass away more pleasantly, as I have sat 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 wonders
reported and written of them, and of the several creatures

If that be bred and live in them, and those by authors

I of so good credit, that we need not to deny them an

\ historical faith.

The FIRST DAY 35

As namely of a river in Epirus that puts out any lighted
torch, and kindles any torch that was not lighted. Some
waters being drunk, cause madness, some drunkenness, and
some laughter to death. The river Belarus in a few hours
turns a rod or wand to stone : and our Camden mentions
the like in England, and the like in Lochmere 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 returns to its wonted calmness and clearness.
And Camden tells us of a well near to Kirby, in West-
moreland, that ebbs and flows several times every day :
and he tells us of a river in Surrey, it is called Mole, that
after it has 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
Josephus, 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 philo-
sopher says, in the third chapter of his ninth"l5ook, that in
the Indian Sea, the fish called Balxna or Whirlpool, is so
long and broad, as to take up more in length and breadth
than two acres of ground ; and, of other fish of two hundred

36 The COMPLETE ANGLER

cubits long ; and that in the river Ganges, there be Eels
of thirty feet long. He says there, that these monsters
appear in that sea, only when the tempestuous winds oppose
the torrents of water 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 interwoven
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. Casau-
bon's* Discourse of Credulity and Incredulity^ 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 others added
by my friend Elias Ashmole,^i Esq., who now keeps them
carefiiUy and methodically at his house near to Lambeth,
near London, as may get some belief of some of the other
wonders I mentioned. I will 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 Dol-
phin, the Cony-fish, the Parrot-fish, the Shark, the Poison-
fish, Sword-fish, and not only other incredible fish, but you
may there see tile Salamander, several sorts of Barnacles, of
Solan-Geese, the Bird of Paradise, such sorts of Snakes, and
such Birds'-nests, and of so various forms, and so wonder-

The FIRST DAY 37

fully 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 incredible ; for, you may note, t hat the wa te rs a re
N ature's sto re-house, in which she locks up her wonders.

But, Sir, lest this discourse^inayseem tedious, I shall
give it a sweet conclusion out of that holy poet, Mr.
George Herbert his divine 'Contemplation on God's Pro-
vidence.'

Lord ! who hath praise enough, nay, who hath any ?
None can express thy works, but he that knows them ;
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 I should pay the rent.
Because the benefit accrues to me.

And as concerning fish, in that psalm, 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 amazement of a contem-
plative reader, concerning the sea, the rivers, and the fish
therein contained ! And the great naturalist Pliny says,
' That nature's great and wondemiTpower is more demon-
strated in the sea than on the land.' And this may appear,
by the numerous and various creatures inhabiting both in
and about that element ; as to the readers of Gesner, Ron-
deletius, Pliny, ^^^jjso»m&, AiiStofliPand others,^^ may be

38 The COMPLETE ANGLER

demonstrated. But I will sweeten this discourse 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 be 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, Pinks, Gilliflowers, and many millions

Of other plants, more rare, more strange than these.

As very fishes, living iri 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.

These seem to be wonders ; but have had so many con-
firmations 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, inclinations, and actions; con-
cerning which, I shall beg your patient ear a little longer.

The Cuttle-fish will cast a long gut out of her throat,
which, liice as an Angler doth his line, she sendeth forth,
and puUeth in again at her pleasure, according as she sees
some little fish come near to her ; and the Cuttle-fish,
being then hid in the gravel, lets the smaller fish nibble
and bite 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 devours her : and for
this reason some have called this fish the Sea-angler.

«^

The FIRST DAY 41

And there is a fish called a Hermit, that at a certain j
age gets into a dead fish's shell, ahdpHlce' a hermit, dwells j
there alone, studying the wind and weather ; and so turns 1
her shell, that she makes it defend her from the injuries >
that they would bring upon her.

There is also a fish called by ^lian^* th eAdonis, or
Darling of th e^ Sea ; so called, because it is a loving and
irinocent fash^a fish that hurts nothing that hath life, and
is at peace with all the numerous inhabitants of that vast
watery element; and truly, I think most Anglers are so
disposed to most of mankind.

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

And first, what Du Bartas says of a fish called the
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.
Homing their husbands that had horns before.

And the same author writes concerning the Cantharus,
that which you shall also hear in his own words :

But, contrary, the constant Cantharus
Is ever constant to his faithful spouse j
In nuptial duties, spending his chaste life ;
Never loves any but his ov^n dear wife.

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

42 The COMPLETE ANGLER

Venator. Sir, take what liberty you think fit, for your
discourse seems to be musick, and charms me to an
attention.

PiscATOR. Why then, Sir, I will take a little liberty to
tell, or rather to remember you what is said o^Turtle-
d oves ; fi rst, that the y silently plight their tr oth, and
marry ; and that then "the suryiyor scorns, as the Thra-
ci an yyomen are said to do, to outlive his or -hef ■ mate : -
and this is taken tor a truth ; and if the suryiyor shall
eyer couple with another, then, not only the Hying, but
the dead, be it either the he or the she, is denied the
name and honour of ^ '•■'ilfl Tnrt-lp-H^Yf, ^-

And to parallel this land-rarity, and teach mankind
moral faithfulness, and to condemn those _that talk of
"""religion, alid yet~cOme short of the moral_fa.ith of^ fisiTand
fowl, men that violate the law affirmed by St. Paul to
be writ in their hearts, and which, he says, shall at the
Last Day condemn and leaye them without excuse — I
pray hearken to what Du Bartas sings, for the hearing
of such conjugal J"aithfulness _will be musick to all chaste
ears, and therefore I pray hearken to what Du Bartas
sings of the jyTiiJlff ^

But for chaste love the Mullet hath no peer ;

For, if the fisher hath surprisM her pheer,
\ As mad with wo, to shore she foUoweth,
I Prest to consort him, both in life and death.

On the contrary, what shall I say of the House-Cockj

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 broo.djfbut is senseless, jtjiqugh they perish.

And it is considerable, that the Hen,_which, because she

The FIRST DAY 43

also takes any Cock, expects it not, who is sure the
chickens be liel' uwn, haLli hy it-moral impression her care
and affection to her own brood more than doubled, even to
such a height, that our Saviour, in expressing his love to
Jerusaleiji, quotes her, for an example gftender alFection,

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 then leave it un-
covered, and exposed to become a prey and be devoured
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 mutu-
ally labour, both 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 testified, some b x Aristotle, some
by Pliny, some by Gesner, and by many others of credit ;
and are believed and knovvn 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 mo st pio us man.. And, doubtless, this
made the prophet David say, 'They that occupy them-
selves in deep waters, see the wonderful works of God ' :
indeed such wonders, and pleasures too, as the land
affords not.

And that they be fit for the contemplation of the most
prudent, and pious, and peaceable men, seems to be testi-
fied by the practice of so many devout and contemplative
men, as th e Patriarc h" ^"'^ Prnph"*'" "f old ; and of the
Apostles of our Saviour in our latter times, of which

44 The COMPLETE ANGLER

twelve, w e are sure, he chose four that were simple fisher-
men, whom he inspired, and sent to publish his blessed
will to the Gentiles ; and inspired them also with a power
Ato 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 :

I First, that he never reproved these, for their employ-
ment or calling, as he did the Scribes and the Money-
changers. / And secondly, he found that the hearts of
such meri, By nature, were fitted for cont emplation and
quietness ; men of mild, and sweet, and peaceable spirits,
as m"dg EJ most Anglers are : these men our blessed Saviour,
who is observed to love to plant grace in good natures,
though indeed nothing be too hard for him, yet these
men he chose to call from their irreprovable 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 nomi-
nation in the catalogue of his twelve Apostles, as namely,
first St. Peter, St. Andrew, St. James, and St. John ; knd,
then, the rest in their order. /

And it is yet more observable, that when our blessed
Saviour went up into the mojint, when he left the rest of
his disciples, and chose only three to bear him company
at his Transfiguration, that those three were all fishermen.
And it is to be believed, that all the other Apostles, after

The FIRST DAY 45

they betook themselves to follow Christ, betook themselves
to b e .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 twenty-first
chapter of St. John's gospel. fj

And since I have your promise to hear me with patience,
I will take a liberty to look back upon an observation that
hath been made by an ingenious and learned man ; who
observes, that God hath been pleased to allow those whom
he himself hath appointed to write his holy will in holy
writ, yet to express his will in such metaphors as their
former affections or practice had inclined them to. And
he br ings Solomon fo r an example, who, before his con-
version , was remarkably carnally amorous ; and after, by
God's appointment, wrote that spi riludl dial o g ue, or holy
amorous love-song the Canticles, betwixt God and his
church : in which he 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 Moses, who I told
you before writ the book of Job, and the prophet Amos, who
was a shepherd, were both „Angleire ; for you shall^ in all
the Old Testament, find fish-hobks, I think but twice
mentioned, namely, by meek Moses the friend of God, and
by the humble prophet Amos.

Concerning 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. Which I do the rather believe, by

46 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 l awfulness 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,i* shall
find that there he declares to have found a king and several
priests a-fishing. And he that reads Plutarch, shall find,
that Angling was not contemptible in the days of Mark
Antony and Cleopatra, ^nd that they, in the midst of
their wonderful glory, used Angling as a principal re-
creation. 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 understood. And let me add this more : he that views
the ancient Ecclesiastical Canons, shall find hunting to be
forbidden to Churchmen, as being a turbulefif, toilsome,
perplexing recreation ; and shall find Angling allowed to
clergymen, as being a harmless recreation, a recreation that
invites them to co ntemplation and quietness.

I might here enlarge myself, by telling you what com-
mendations our learned Perkins ^* bestows on Angling : and
how dear a lover, and great a practiser of it, our learned
Dr. Whitaker was ; as indeed many others of great learning
have been. But I will content myself with two memorable
men, that 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

The FIRST DAY 49

church of St. Paul, in London, where his monument stands
yet undefaced ; a man that, in the reformation of Queen
Elizabeth, not that of Henry viii., «was so noted for his
meek spirit, deep learning, prudence, and piety, that the
then Parliament 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. ^Jtld the good old man, though
he was very learned, yet knowing that God lea^s usIiioFto
heay^a^by _!many,"!nor by hard questions, like an honest
Angler, made--that. good, plain, un perplexed Cate chism
which is printed with our good old Service-book. I say,
this good man " was 1' dear lover and constant practiser of
Angling, g.s_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 te nth part of his time in Angling ;
and, also, for I have conversed with those which have
conversed with 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 g ave life to religion ' : and, at his 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 liberal benefactor. In which picture he is drawn,
leaning on a desk, with his Bible before him ; and on one

D

50 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 n inety-fi ve years, forty-four of
w^hich he had been Dean of St. PaxiPs~church ; and that his
age neither impaired his hearing, nor dimmed his eyes, nor
weakened 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 j and I
wish the like to all that imitate him, and love the 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
Wotton, a man with whom I have often fished and con-
verseHpaTnan 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 th? art of Angling ; of which he would say,
' it was an employment for his idle time, which was then
not idly spent ' ; for Angling was, -a fter tp ;dirni<; gfndy^ 'g
rest to his mind, a theerer of his spirits, a diverter of
sadness, a calmer of unquiet thoughts, a moderator of
passions, a procurer of contentedness ; and that it begat
habits of peace and patience in those that professed and
practised it.' Indeed, my friend, you will find Angling to
be like the virtue of humility, which has a ^calmn ess of-
■ spirit, and a world of other blessings attending upon it.

SiiTthis was the saying of that learned man. And I do
easily believe, that peace, and patience, and a calm content,

The FIRST DAY 53

did cohabit in the cheerful heart of Sir Henry Wotton,
because I know that when he was beyond seventy years of
age, he made this description of a part of the present
pleasure that possessed him, as he sat 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
then made, I shall repeat it unto you :

This day dame Nature seem'd in love ;
The lusty sap began to move ;
Fresh juice did stir th' embracing vines ;
And birds had drawn their valentines.

The jealous trout, that low did lie.
Rose at a well-dissembled fly ;
There stood my Friend, with patient skill.
Attending of his trembling quill.

i Already were the eves possest

' With the swift pilgrim's daubed nest ;

The groves already did rejoice.

In Philomel's triumphing voice :

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 fiill of cheer,
To welcome the new-livery'd year.

54 The COMPLETE ANGLER

These were the thoughts that then possessed the un-
disturbed mind of Sir Henry Wotton. Will you hear the
wish of another Angler, and the commendation of his happy
life, which he also sings in verse : viz. Jo. Davors, Esq. ? ^^

Let me live harmlessly, and near the brink
Of Trent or Avon hav eTavygJiiil g^flaee-?

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-gotten 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-keys.

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 watery clouds that in the air up-roll'd

With sundry kinds of painted colours fly 5
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 chains.
With headlong course, into the sea profound j

The raging sea, beneath the vallies low.

Where lakes, and rills, and rivulets do flow :

*' '"Oi/i

"■■^.1

To all the lovers of Angling.

The FIRST DAY 57

The' lofty woods, the forests wide and long,

Adorned 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, watery 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 mind is rapt above the starry sky.

Sir, I am glad my memory has not lost these last verses,
because they are somewhat more pleasant and more suit-
able to May-day than my harsh discourse. And I am glad
your patience hath held out so long as to hear them and
me, for both together have brought us within the sight of
th&-Xhatched House. An d I must be your debtor, if you
think it worth your attention, for the rest of my promised dis- .
course, till some other opportunity, and a like time of leisure.

Venator. Sir, you have^^ angled*' me on with much
pleasure to the Thatched House ; and I now find your
words true, 'that good company makes the way 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 '11 turn into it, and refresh ourselves with a
cup of drink, and a little rest.

PiscATOR. Most gladly, Sir, and we '11 drink a civil cup
to all the Otter-hunters that are to meet you to-morrow.

The gloves of an otter.

f.W>l<yif

The SECOND DAY

On the Otter and the Chub

CHAPTER II

PISCATOR, VENATOR, HUNTSMAN, AND HOSTESS

Venator. My friend Piscator, you have kept time with
my thoughts ; 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-lilies and
lady-smocks ; there you may see what work they make ;
look ! look ! you may see all busy ; men and dogs ; dogs
and men ; all busy.

Piscator. 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.

62 The COMPLETE ANGLER

Come, honest Venator, let us be gone, let us make haste ;
I long to be doing ; no reasonable hedge or ditch shall
hold me.

Venator. Gentleman Huntsman, where found you this
Otter ?

Huntsman. Marry, Sir, we found her a mile from this
place, a-fishing. She has this morning eaten the greatest

Tie sun is just rising.

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 sunrise, 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.
Venator. Why, Sir, what is the skin worth ?

The college of Carthusians.

The SECOND DAY 65

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

PiscATOR. I pray, honest Huntsman, let me ask you a
pleasant question : do you hunt a beast or a fish ?

Huntsman. 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 flesh. But, I have
heard, the question hath been debated among many great
clerks, and they seem to differ about it ; yet most agree
that her tailis__fishj^ and if her body be fish too, then I
may say that a fish will walk upon land : fo r,, an Otter
does so sonietimes, hve or six. or ten miles in a night, to
catch for her young ones, or to glut herself 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 dog-fisher, for so the Latins call him,
can smell a fish in the water a hundred yards from him :
Gesner says much farther : and that his stones are good
agatnstr^e felling sickness ; and that there is an herb,
Benione, which, being hxmg in a linen cloth near a fish-
pond, or any haunt that he uses, makes him to avoid the
place ; which proves he smells both by water and land.
And, I can tell you, there isbrave hunting this water-dog
in Cornwall ; where there have been so many, that our
learned Camden says there is a river called Ottersey, 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 ; which
you may now see above water at vent, and the dogs close
with him ; I now see he will not last long. Follow, there-

E

66 The COMPLETE ANGLER

fore, my masters, follow; for Sweetlips was like to have
him at this last vent.

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

Huntsman. 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 Kilbuck, for he vents
again.

Venator. Marry ! so he does ; for, look ! he vents in
that corner. Now, now, Ringwood has him : now, he is
gone 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 whelp'd.
Let 's go to the place where she was put down ; and, not
far from it, you will find all her young ones, I dare warrant
you, and kill them all too.

Huntsman. 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 's her young ones, no less than five :
come, let us kill them all.

Piscator. No : I pray. Sir, save me one, and I '11 try if

I can make her tame, as I know an ingenious gentleman

\in Leicestershire, Mr. Nich. Segrave, has done ; who hath

not only made her_teBiE,J)ut to catch fish, and do many

other things of much pleasure.

\ Huntsman. Take one with all my heart; but let us
1^11 the rest. And now let 's go to an honest ale-house,

there is brarae hunting this ivater-dog.

The THIRD DAY 69

where we may have a cup of good barley wine, and sing
' Old Rose,' and all of us rejoice together.

Venator. Come, my friend Piscator, let me invite you
along with us. I '11 bear your charges this night, and you
shall bear mine to-morrow ; for my intention is to accom-
pany you a day or two in fishing.

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

The THIRD DAY

Venator. Well, now let 's go to your sport of Angling.

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

Venator. Now, Piscator, where will you begin to fish ?

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

Venator. Well then, I pray, as we walk, tell me freely,
how do you like your lodging, and mine host and the com-
pany ? Is not mine host a witty man ?

Piscator. 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 there are no more
Otter-killers ; for I know that the want of Otter-killers,
and the not keeping the fence-months for the preservation
of fish, will, in time, prove the destruction of all rivers.
And those very few that are left, that make conscience of
the laws of the nation, and of keeping days of abstinence.

70 The COMPLETE ANGLER

will be forc£sL±Q_£at_fle^ijOr suffer more inconveniences
than are yet foreseen. ' ' ^'

Venator. Why, Sir, what be those that you call the
fence-months ?

PiscATOR. Sir, they be principally three, namely, March,
April, and May : ^^ for these be the usual months that
§dmon come out of the sea to spawn in most fresh rivers.
Aiid~tKeir fry would, about a certain time, return back
to the salt water, if they were not hindered by weirs and
unlawful gins, which the greedy fishermen set, and so
destroy them by thousands ; as they would, being so taught
by nature, change the fresh for salt water. He that shall
view the wise Statutes made in the 13th of Edward the
First, and the like in Richard the Second, may see several
provisions made against the destruction of fish : and though
I profess no knowledge of the law, yet I am sure the
regulation of these defects might be easily mended. But
I remember that a wise friend of mine did usually say,
' that which is everybody's business is nobody'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..

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

But the poor fish have enemies enough besides such
unnatural fishermen; as namely, the Otters that I spake
of, the Cormorant, the Bittern, the Osprey, the Sea-gull,
Vbe Hern, the King-fisher, the Gorara, the Puet, the Swan,

The THIRD DAY 71

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 frrir^'ir- j"'iTq7'~f lasriyja us jests;
for which I count no man witty : for the devil wiU help a
man, that way inclined, to the first j 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 th e sin whic h 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 are the very sinews '
of virtue. But for such discourse as we heard last night,
it infects others : the very boys will learn to talk and
swear, as they heard mine host, and another of the com-
pany 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 more will be required at the last great
day. ^^ell! 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 to his country his religion ;
And in another, would as strongly grow.
Had but his nurse or mother taught him so.

72 The COMPLETE ANGLER

This is reason put into verse, and worthy the considera-
tion of a wise man. But of this no more; for though I
love civility, yet I hate severe censures. I '11 to my own
art ; and I douBt not but Ul ye«der_tree I shall catch a
Chub : and then we '11 turn to an honest cleanly hostess,
that I know right well ; rest ourselves there ; and dress it
for our dinner.

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

PiscATOR. Trust me, Sir, there is not a likely place
for a Trout hereabout : and we staid so long to take our
leave of your 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 I '11 make it a good fish by dressing it.

Venator. Why, how will you dress him ?

PiscATOR. I'll tell you by-and-by, when I 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 hole, twenty Chubs. I'll catch only one, and
that shall be the biggest of them all : and that I will
do so, I '11 hold you twenty to one, and you shall see it
done.

Venator. Ay, marry ! Sir, now you talk like an artist ;
and I '11 say you are one, when I shall see you perform
what you say you can do : but I yet doubt it.

Piscator. 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 or some other
accident; and that looks like a white spot. That very
Chub I mean to put into your hands presently ; sit you

cAn honest cleanly hostess.

The THIRD DAY 75

but down in the shade, and stay but a little while; and
I '11 warrant you, I '11 bring him to you.

Venator. I '11 sit down ; and hope well, because you
seem to be so confident,.

PisCATOR. Look you. Sir, there is a trial of my skill ;
there he is : that very Chub, that I showed 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 'II now
lead you to an honest ale-house, where we shall find a
cleanly room, lavender in the windows, and twenty ballads
stuck about the wall. There my hostess, which I may tell
you is both cleanly, and handsome, and civil, hath dressed
many a one for me ; and shall now dress it after my &shion,
and I warrant it good meat.

Venator. Come, Sir, with all my heart, for I begin 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.

PiscATOR. 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 ? 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.

Hostess. I will do it, Mr. Piscator, and with all the
speed I can.

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

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

76

The COMPLETE ANGLER

PiscATOR. Well, Sir, how do you like it ?

Venator. 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.

,tim¥" "'

The tAnglers' inn, near Hoddesdon, Hertfirdshire.

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

Venator. Why, Sir, it is, that from henceforth you
would allow me to call vpar-Masteiy a n d that r eally I may

T-wcBty iallad, stuck about tie loall.

The THIRD DAY

79

be your scholar ; f or you are such a companion, and have
so quickly caught and so excellently cooked this fish, as
makes me ambitious to be your scholar.

PiscATOR. 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 you some-
what 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.

The THIRD T> KY— continued
How to fish for, and to dress, the Chavender or Chub

CHAPTER III

PISCATOR AND VENATOR

PiscATOR. 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 filll nfsrnall fnrl^t^d hnnpSjidUpprspH

through all his body, but that he eats waterish, and that the
flesh of him is not firm, but short and tast elgsS;_ The French
— esteem him so rnean, as to call^ him T Jn Vill ain ; nevertheless
he may be so dressed as to make him 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 J and to that end make the hole as little, and
near to his gills, as you may conveniently, 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, with good store of salt mixed with it.

80

Yonder is tie /muse.

. The THIRD DAY 83

Being thus dressed, you will find him a much better dish
of meat than you, or most folk, even than anglers them-
selves, do imagine : for this dries up the fluid w^atery
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 newl y gathered from a tree, and others that
have been bruised and lain a day or two ill waLcr: — But the
Chub being thus used, and dressed presently; 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
such meat as will recompense your labour, and disabuse
your opinion.

Or you may dress the Chavender 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 exceedingly small, or
bruised into the butter. The Cheven thus dressed hath the
watery taste taken away, for which so many except against
himi '1 hus was th giDlicvc n dressed that 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-morrow, he
had not been worth a rush. And remember, that his
throat be washed very clean, I say very clean, and his

84 The COMPLETE ANGLER

body not washed after he is gutted, as indeed no fish
should be.
fl Well, scholar, you see what pains I have taken to recover
/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 catching 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 hole 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
, grasshoppers, as you go over the meadow : and get secretly ; I
; behind the tree, and stand as free from motion as is possible.
Then put a grassljopper-en 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 down towards the bottom of
the water, at the first shadow of your rod (for Chub is the
fearfullest of fishes), and will do so if but a bird flies over
him and makes the least shadow on the water ; but they
will presently rise up to the top again, and there lie soaring
till some shadow affrights them again. 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 your rod, as softly as a snail moves, to that
Chub you intend to catch ; let your bait fall gently upon
the water three or four inches before him, and he will in-
fallibly 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 j and therefore give
him play enough before you offer to take him out of the

The THIRD DAY 85

water. Go your way presently ; take my rod, and do as I
bid you ; and I will sit down and mend my tackling till
you return back.

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

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

PiscATOR. 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 short time. Have but a love to it ; and I '11 warrant
you.

Venator. But, master ! what if I could not have found
a grasshopper ?

Piscator; Then I may tell you, That a black snailj_with
his belly slit, to show his white, or a piece 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 walFfl^ or the
dor or beetle, which you may find under cow-dung ; or a
bob7^$ich~yotn^irfind 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 j 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 Trnir^ n a hot
evening : when, as you walk by a brook, and shall see or
hear him leap at flies, then, if you get a grasshopper, put it
on your hook, with your line about two yards long ;
standing behind a bush or tree where his hole is : and make
your bait stir up and down on the top of the water. You
may, if you stand close, be sure of a bite, but not sure to
catch him, for he is not a leather-mouthed fish. And after

86 The COMPLETE ANGLER

this manner you may fish for him with almost any kind of
live fly, but especially with a grasshopper.

Venator. But before you go further, I pray, good
master, what mean you by a leather-mouthed fish ?

PisCATOR. By a leat her-mouth ed fish, I mean such as
have their teeth in their thro at, as the Chub or Cheven :
and so the Barbel, the Gudgeon, and Carp, and divers
others have. 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 Perch,
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 fiiU 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.

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

PisCATOR. Marry, Sir, it shall be given away to some
poor body ; for I '11 warrant you I '11 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 your willingness to part with it so charitably,
I will also teach more concerning Chub-fishing. You are to
note, that in March and April h^ is usually taken with
worms ; in May, June, and^jfrdyjne will bite at any fly, or
at cherries, or at beetles with their legs and wings cut ofi^,
or at any kind of snail, or at the black bee that breeds in
clay walls. And he never refuses a grasshopper, on the top
of a swift stream, nor, at the bottom, the young humble bee
that breeds in long grass, and is ordinarily found by the

The THIRD DAY 87

mower of it. In August, and in the cooler months, a yellow
paste, made of the strongest cheese, and pounded in a
mortar, with a Httle butter and safFron, so much of it as,
being beaten small, will turn it to a lemon colour. And
some make a paste for the winter months, at which time
the Chub is accounted 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 excellent meat, and
that the head of a large Cheven, the throat being well
washed, is the best part of him, I will 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 dressgdjo- proGcnt ' ly after ■■he~irtak e n, T w ill com-
mend to your consideration how curious former times have
been in the like kind.

You shall read in S^^^^^ Tiis ^'•*"<^^1 &,ii>rH««t^ ttnn-
the ancients were so curious in the newness of their fish,
that that seemed not new enough that was not put alive
into the guest's hand ; and 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 entertainingi of
friends, to have that fish taken from under their table alive
that was instantly to be fed upon ; and he says, they took

88 The COMPLETE ANGLER

great pleasure 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 Troutj and how to fish for him, which shall take up the
next of my spare time.

"The THIRD T>KY— continued

On the Nature and Breeding of the Trop,
and how to fish for him

CHAPTER IV

Tro^t,

PISCATOR, VENATOR, MILK-WOMAN, MAUDLIN,
HOSTESS

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 obseFved, that he comes in and
goes out of season with the stag and buck. Gesner says,
his name is of a German offspring ; and 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 preced-
ency and daintiness' of taste. ; and that being in right season,
the most dainty palates have allowed precedency to him.

And before I go farther in 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 Trouts
that are good in winter j but there are not many that are

90 the COMPLETE ANGLER

so ; for usually they be in their perfection in the month 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 difi^er 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 that are taken in the Lake of Geneva are a great
part of the merchandize of that famous city. And you are
further to know, that there be certain waters that breed
Trouts remarkable, both for their number and smallness.
I know a little brook in Kent, that breeds them to a
number incredible, and you may take them twenty or forty
in an hour, but none greater than about the size of a
Gudgeon. There are also, in divers rivers, especially that
relate to, or be near to the sea, as Winchester, or the Thames
about Windsor, a little Trout called a Samlet, or Skegger
Trout, in both which places I have caught twenty or forty
at a standing, that will bite as fast and as freely 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
accounted the rarest of fish ; many of them near the
bigness of a Salmon, but known by their dilFerent 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 wanton-

.,1-va,.

/ have caught fwetity or forty at a stai

The THIRD DAY 93

ness ; and it is the rather to be believed, 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 is
reported by good authors, that grasshoppers and some
fish have no mouths, but are nourished and take breath
by the porousness of their gills, man knows not how :
and this may be believed, if we consider that when the
raven hath hatched her eggs, she takes no further care,
but leaves her young ones to the care of the God of
nature, who is said, in the Psalms, *to feed the yovmg
ravens that call upon him.' And they be kept 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 affords a Trout that exceeds all
others. And just so does Sussex boast of several fish ; as,
namely, a Shelsey Cockle, a Chichester Lobster, an Arundel
Mullet, and an Amerly Trout.

And, now, for some confirmation of the Fordidge Trout ;
you are to know that this Trout is thought to eat nothing
in the fi'esh 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

94 The COMPLETE ANGLER

to fly in England for six months in a year, but about
Michaelmas leave us for a hotter climate, yet some of
them that have been left behind their fellowrs, 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^'
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 winter : and though it be strange to some,
yet it is known to too many among us to be doubted.
J And so much, for these Fordidge Trouts, 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 onlyj 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 callra a Bull-
trout, of a much greater length and bigness than any in
these southern parts; and there are, in many rivers that
relate to the sea, Salmon-trouts, as much different 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 the 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 con-
sideration 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 the Pearch, and divers
other fishes do, as Sir Francis Bacon hath observed in his
History of Life andj)eatli7

The THIRD DAY 95

And next you are to take notice, that he is not like the
Crocodile, which if he lives never so long, yet always
thrives till his death : but 'tis not so with the Trout ; for
after he is come to his full growth, he declines in his body,
and keeps his bigness, or thrives only in his head till his
death. And you are to know, that he will, about, espe-
cially before, the time of his spawning, get, almost miracu-
lously, through weirs and flood-gates, against the stream ;
even through such high and swift places as is almost in-
credible. Next, that the Trout usually spawns about
October or November, but in some rivers 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, that he continues
many months out of season ; for it may 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 thejun gets to such
a height as to warm the earth and the wafer^ 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 j at which time many of them have
sticking on them Sugs, or Trout-lice j which is a kind of
a worm, in shape like a clove, or pin with a big head, and
sticks close to him, 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 ;

96 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 streams,
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, or cadis ; and these make
the Trout bold and lusty, and he is usually fatter and
better meat at the end of that month 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 Fordidge 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 usually 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 willows
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 out of
season.

And you are to note, that there are several kinds of
Trouts : but 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 ; though 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

The THIRD DAY 97

kinds of spiders ; and yet all, for aught I know, go under
that one general name of spider. And it is so with ipany
kinds of fish, and of Trouts especially ; which differ in their
bigness, and shape, and spots, and colour. The great
Kentish hens may 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 very 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 to-morrow
morning, I will give you direction how you yourself shall
fish for him.

Venator. 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.

PiscATOR. 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, Sir, now
he is mine own : what say you now, is not this worth all
my labour and your patience ?

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

PiscATOR. Marry, e'en eat him to supper : we '11 go to
my hostess from whence we came ; she told me, as I was

G

98 The COMPLETE ANGLER

going out of door, that my brother Peter, a good angler
and a cheerful companion, had sent word he would lodge
there to-night, and bring a friend with him. My hostess
has two beds, and I know you and I may have the best :
we'll rejoice with my brother Peter and his friend,,tell
tales, or sing ballads, or m ak e a catch, or fi nd sM ae-Aarmfess
s port to content us, and pass away a little time without
ofFe nce to (jod or ma n.

"Venator. A match, good master, let's go to that
house, for the linen looks white, and smells of lavender,
and I long to lie in a pair of sheets that smell so.
Let 's be going, good master, for I am_hungry again

with fiahingr

PiscatorT Nay, stay a little, good scholar. I caught
my last Trout with a wormj. now "I will put on a minnow ,
and try a quarter of an hour about yonder trees for an-
other ; and, so, walk towards our lodging. Look you,
scholar, thereabout we shall have a bite presently, or not
at all. Have with you, Sir : o' my word I have hold
of him. Oh ! it is a great logger-headed Chub ; come,
hang him upon that willow twig, and let's be going.
But turn out of the way a little, good scholar! toward
yonder high honeysuckle hedge ; there we '11 sit and sing,
whilst this s hower falls so gently upon the teemmg eartET
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 tern-

'. /'' X

V II give you a syllabub.

The THIRD DAY loi

pestuous sea ; yet sometimes opposed by rugged roots and
pebble-stones, which broke their waves, and turned them
into foam ; and sometimes I beguiled time by viewing
the h armless I'l'yb'i ; g"mp leaping securely in the cool
shade, whilst others sported themselves in the cheerful
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 exprest it,

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

As I left this place, and entered into the next field, a
second pleasure entertained me ; 'twas a handsojns-jnttfc—
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 nightingale. Her voice
was good, and the ditty fitted for it ; it was that smooth
song which was made by Kit Marlow, now at least fifty
years ago ; and the milk-maid's moth er sung an answer to
it, which was made by Sir WalterRaleigh, in his younger
days. 'T>^>ji^°--°_rf]H-f-'°^""""'-'^ pn etry, but choirf lir prnnH •
I think much better than the strong lines that are
now in fashion in 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 daug-hter, for I use to sell none.

102 The COMPLETE ANGLER

Milk- WOMAN. Marry ! God requite you, Sir, and we '11
eat it cheerfully. And if you come this way a-fishing two
months hence, a grace of God ! I '11 give yoii a syllabub of
new verjuice, in a new-made haycock, 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. In the meantime will you drink a draught of red
cow's milk ? you shall have it freely.

PiscATOR. No, I thank youj but, I pray, do us a
courtesy that shall stand you and your daughter in nothing,
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 I last passed over this meadow, about eight
or nine days since.

Milk-woman. What song was it, I pray ? Was
it, ' Come, Shepherds, deck your herds ' ? or, ' As at
noon Dulcina rested ' ? or, ' Phillida flouts me ' ? or,
' Chevy Chace ' ? or, ' Johnny Armstrong ' ? or, ' Troy
Town ' ?

PiscATOR. 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-woMAN. O, I know it now. I learned the first
part in my golden age, when I was about the age of my
poor daughter; and the latter part, which indeed fits me
best now, but two or three years ago, when the cares of the
world began to take hold of me : but you shall, God
willing, hear 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 ; and I '11 sing the
second when you have done.

The Milk-maid's song.

The THIRD DAY 105

THE MILK-MAID'S SONG. 2»

Come, live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That valleys, groves, or hills, or fields.
Or woods, and steepy mountdns yields ;

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

And I will make thee beds of roses ;
And, then, a thousand fragrant posies ;
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle.
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle ;

A govm 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
Prepared 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.

Venator. Trust me, master, it is a choice song, and
sweetly sung by honest Maudlin. I now see it was not

ro6 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 Maudlin does so. I'll
bestow Sir Thomas Overbury's milk-maid's wish upon her,
* that she may'^ahi ■ in "The Spring ; and, being dead, may
have 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 cares to come.

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning yields.
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, soon forgotten ;
In folly ripe, in reason rotten.

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

<<^

Coridotfs oaten fife.

The THIRD DAY 109

What should we talk of d^nties, then.
Of better meat than 's fit for men ?
These are but vdn : that 's only good
Which God hath blessed, and sent for food.

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

Mother. Well ! I have done my song. But stay,
honest anglers ; for I will make Maudlin 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.

Maudlin. I will, mother.

I married a wife of late.
The more 's ray unhappy fate :
I married her for love.
As my 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 ca.rt^ \ T , p.:ii,:.ifr- pn:i

PiscATOR. Well sung, good woman ; I thank you. I '11
give you another dish of fish one of these days ; and then
beg another song of you. Come, scholar ! let Maudlin
alone : do not you offer to spoil her voice. Look ! yonder

no

The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 j and long to see
you ; and long to be at supper, for they be very hungry.

The THIRD T>KY— continued
On the Trout

CHAPTER V

PISCATOR, PETER, VENATOR, CORIDON

PiscATOR. Well met, brother Peter ! I heard you ' and
a friend would lodge here to-night ; and that hath made
me to bring my friend to lodge here too. My friend is
one that would fain be a brother of the angle : he hath
been an angler but this day ; and I have taught him how
to catch a Chub, by dapping with a grasshopper ; and the
Chub he caught was a lusty one of nineteen inches long.
But pray, brother Peter, who is your companion ?

Peter. Brother Piscator, my friend is an honest coun-
tryman, and his name is Coridon j and he is a downright
witty companion, that met me here purposely to be pleasant
and eat a Trout; and I have not yet wetted my line
since we met together : but I hope to fit him with a Trout
for his breakfast ; for I '11 be early up.

Piscator. Nay, brother, you shall not stay so long ; for,
look you ! here is a Trout will fill six reasonable bellies.

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

112 The COMPLETE ANGLER

forefathers did use to drink of; the drink which preserved
their health, and madethem_iisP sn Inng, and ti^-do so
many good deeds.

Peter. On my word, this Trout is perfect in season.
Come, I 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 encourage-
ment, that his fortune hath made him happy to be scholar
to such 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.

PiscATOR. Trust me, brother Peter, I find my scholar
to be so suitable to my own humour, which is to be free
a nd pleasant and ri villy mprry^ f[]p» jpy resolution IS to hide
nothing that I know from him. Believe me, scholar, this
is my resolution ; and so here 's to you a hearty draught,
and to all that love us and the honest art of Angling.

Venator. Trust me, good master, you shall not sow
your seed in barren ground ; for I hope to return you an
increase answerable to your hopes : but, however, you
shall find me obedient, and thankful, and serviceable to
my best ability.

PiscATOR. '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 yellow as a
marigold, and part of it as white as a lily; and yet,
methinks, it looks better in this good sauce.

I think it is best to dram cuts.

The THIRD DAY 115

CoRiDON. 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.

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.

Coridon. I will sing a song, if anybody will sing
another, 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.'

PiscATOR. 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 *Tom of Bedlam,' and many others of
note ; and this, that I will sing, is in praise of Angling.

Coridon. And then mine shall be the praise of a
Countryman'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.

Venator. 'Tis a match ; and I will provide you a song
or a catch against then, too, which shall give some addition
of mirth to the company; for we will be civil and as
merry as beggars.

PiscATOR. '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.

ii6 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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

CoRiDON. Well, then, I will begin, for I hate conten-

tion.

CORIDON'S SONG.

Oh the sweet contentment
The countryman doth find !

Heigh trolollie lollie loe.

Heigh trolollie lee.
That quiet contemplation
Possesseth all my mind :

Then care away.

And wend along with me.

For Cour ts are full of fl attery,
AsTiath toooft been tried ;

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc.
I^iecity full of wantonness,
AnU LoLli lUti lull ul piide :

Then care away, etc.

But oh, the honest countryman
Speaks truly from his heart.

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc.
His pride is in his tillage.
His horses, and his cart :

Then care away, etc.

Our cloathing is good sheep-skins.
Grey russet for our wives j

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc.
'Tis warmth and not gay cloathing
That doth prolong our lives :

Then care away, etc.

Coridon's song.

The THIRD DAY 119

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

Heigh troloUie lollie loe, etc.
No emperor so merrily
Does pass his time away :

Then care away, etc.

To recompense our tillage.
The hea ^^iB afFo'"'^ "° «^'"™'iri j

Heigh trololHe lollie loe, etc.
And for our sweet refreshments
The earth affords us bowers :

Then taiK away, etc .

The cuckow and the nightingale
Full merrily do smg, ' ' — -

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc.
And with their pleasant roundelays
Bid welcome to the.. gpring ;

Then care away, etc.

This is not half the happiness
The countryman enjoys ;

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc.
Though others think they have as much,
Yet he that says so lies :

Then come away.

Turn countrymen with me.

Jo. Chalkhill.21

PiscATOR. Well sung, Coridon, this 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 discourse,
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

120 The COMPLETE ANGLER

when they be warmed with drink. And take this for a
rule : you may pick out such times and such companies,
that you make yourselves merrier for a little than a great
deal of money ; for * 'Tis the company and not the charge
that makes the feast ' ; and such a companion you prove :
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, and wish it
may be so well liked.

THE ANGLER'S SONG.

As inward love breeds outward talk.
The hound some praise, and some the hawk.
Some, better plpai^'rl wil-h pri yqte spo r!-,
Use tennis, som e a mistress royrt ;

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 bre edsjne no such care. —

___--OfHfl,Laa.Liuii lIici'l ii nuuc'^
6o-free.3sfishing is alone ;
All other pastiinSB Ju ir tTTess
Than mind and body both possess :
My hand alone my work can do,
_SoJjan-6sh— and study too.

I care not, I, to fish in seas,
Jresh rivers- best-trmirtlia do please."
Whose sweet calm course I contemplate.
And seek jn^ life toimitate :

In civil bounds I fain would keep.

And for my past offences weep.

Come, Coridon, you are to he my bed-fellow.

• The THIRD DAY 123

And when the timorous 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 pnuse the wise
Whom vain allurements ne'er surprise

?ise 1 ,
ise. //

But yet, though while I fish, I fast,
I make good fortune my repast ;
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 fish.

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.

W. B.

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

Peter. A match. Come, Coridon, you are to be my

124 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 water towards
Ware.

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

Coridon. 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.

Peter. 'Tis a match. Good-night to everybody.

PiscATOR. And so say L

Venator. And so say I.

the FOURTH DAY

Piscator. 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.

Venator. Well now, good master, as we walk towards
the river, give me direction, according to your promise,
how I shall fi sh for a Trout.

PiscATORTMy honest scholar, I will take this very con-
venient opportunity to do it.

The Trout is usually caught with a worm, or a minnow,
which some call a penk, or with a fly, viz. either a natural
or an artificial fly : concerning which three, I will give
you some observations and directions.

Gtod-morrvw, good hostess.

The FOURTH DAY 127

And, first, for worms. Of these there be very many
sorts : some breed only in the earth, as the earth-worm j
others of, or amongst plants, as the dug-worm ; and others
breed either out of excrements, or in the bodies of living
creatures, as in the horns of sheep or deer ; or some of
dead flesh, as the maggot or gentle, and others.

Now these be most of them particularly good for par-
ticular fishes. But for the Trout, the dew-worm, which
some also call the lob-worm, and the brandling, are Ithe
chief; and especially the first for a great Trout, and the
latter for a less. There be also of lob-worms, some called
squirrel-tails, a worm that has a red head, a streak down
the back, and a broad tail, which are noted to be the best,
because they are the toughest and most lively, and live
longest in the water; for you are to know that a dead
worm is but a dead bait, and like to catch nothing, com-
pared to a lively, quick, stirring worm. And for a brand-
ling, he is usually found in an old dunghill, or some very
rotten place near to it, but most usually in cow-dung, or
hog's-dung, rather than horse-dung, which is somewhat too
hot and dry for that worm. But the best of them are to
be found in the bark of the tanners, which they cast up in
heaps after they have used it about their leather.

There are also divers other kinds of worms, which, for
colour and shape, alter even as the ground out of which
they are got; as the marsh-worm, the tag-tail, the flag-
worm, the dock-worm, the oak-worm, the gilt-tail, the
twachel or lob-worm, which of all others is the most ex-
cellent bait for a salmon, and too many to name, even as
many sorts as some think there be of several herbs or
shrubs, or of several kinds of birds in the air : of which
I shall say no more, but tell you, that what worms soever

128 The COMPLETE ANGLER

you fish with, are the better for being well scoured, that
is, long kept before they be used : and in case you have
not been so provident, then the way to cleanse and scour
them quickly, is, to put them all night in water, if they be
lob-worms, and then put them into your bag with fennel.
But you must not put your brandlings above an hour in
water, and then put them into fennel, for sudden use :
but if you have time, and purpose to keep them long,
then they be best preserved in an earthen pot, with good
store of moss, which is to be fresh every three or four
days in summer, and every week or eight days in winter ;
or, at least, the moss taken from them, and clean washed,
and wrung betwixt your hands till it be dry, and then put
it to them again. And when your worms, especially the
brandling, begins to be sick and lose of his bigness, then
you may recover him, by putting a little milk or cream,
about a spoonful in a day, into them, by drops on the
moss ; and if there be added to the cream an egg beaten
and boiled in it, then it will both fatten and preserve them
long. And note, that when the knot, which is near to
the middle of the brandling, begins to swell, then he is
sick ; and, if he be not well looked to, is near dying.
And for moss, you are to note, that there be divers kinds
of it, which I could name to you, but I wiU 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

The FOURTH DAY 129

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 smell, that the fish fare the worse and
you the better for it.

And now, I shall shew you how t o bait your hook with
a wo rm so as shall prevent you from muc h trouble, and _
the loss otjnanya hook, too, when you fish for a Trout
with a running line ; that is to say, when you fish 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 the 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 April, for then he appears

first in the river; nature having taught him to shelter

and hide himself, in the winter, in ditches that be near to

I

I30 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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
distempered floods that are usually in that season would
suffer him to take no rest, but carry him headlong to mills
and weirs, to his confusion. And of these Minnows : 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 at 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
tie 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 ; I 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 straight 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 turn
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

The FOURTH DAY 131

that means keep them ready and fit for use three 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 waters, a
minnow is not to be got; and therefore, let me tell you,
I have, which I will shew to you, an artificial Jminnow,
that will catch a Trout as well as an artificial fly : and it
was made by a handsome woman that had a 1 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, shadowed 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 dissembled, 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 excellent use :
for note, that a large Trout will come as fiercely at a
minnow as the highest-mettled hawk doth seize on a par-
tridge, or a greyhound on a hare. I have been told that
one hundred and sixty 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 usuaIIy~TSken. You are to know, that there

132 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 tawny-fly, the shell-fly, the
cloudy or blackish-fly, the flag-fly, the vine-fly j there be
of flies, caterpillars, and canker-flies, and bear-flies; and
indeed too many either for me to name, or for you to
remember. And their breeding 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
saying a little of the caterpillar^ or the pal mer-flv or
worm ; that by them you may guess what a worE"it were,
m 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 contemplation of us anglers ;
pleasures which, I think, myself enjoy more than any other
man that is not of my profession.

PlinyJiolds an opinion, that fogn^j have their birth, or
bemg, from a dew tha t i n the spring falls upon the leav es
of trees } .and ,that some kinds of them are from a dew
left u2on_hstbs or flowers ;-aQ.d others from"~a~Tltiw kft-
upon rnlewnrts or rahhap-es; all which kinds of deWS
being~thickened and condensed, are by the sun's genera-
tive heatj^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 have none : but, as our Topsel
hath with great diligence observed, those which have
none, move upon the earth, or upon broad leaves, their

The FOURTH DAY 135

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 butter-
flies ; and again, that their eggs turn the follovsring year to
be caterpillars. And some aifirm, that every plant has its
particular fly or caterpillar, wrhich it breeds and feeds. I
have seen, and may therefore aflirm 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 of privet ; and was
taken thence, and put into a large box, and a little branch
or two of privet put to it, on which I saw it feed as sharply
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 had lived, it had doubtless turned to
one of those flies that s ome call Flies of prey^ which those

that vyflllf by the rivef C ^^J, '"" gnmmpr^ gpp fpctf-n p][i_
^ smaller fljpg , ^"<^, T thinlr^ malrp ttipm thpir f ood. And 'tis,

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 accident.

'Tis endless to tell you what the curious searchers into
nature's productions have observed of these worms and
flies : but yet I shall tell you what A ldrovandus,^^ our

Topse ], a"fl "ttr-rgj cay-nf rhp Pa1mpr-i»rnrm^ nf ^''^frriHnr '

that whereas others content themselves to feed on particular

, herbs or leaves ; for most think, those very leaves that gave

tHeiinife" and shape, give them a particular feeding and

136 The COMPLETE ANGLER

nourishment, and that upon them they usually abide ; yet
he observes, that this is called a pilgrim, or palmer-worm,
for Viig^vprj wgnHf^nng I'fe, P ud various foo d: not content-
ing himself, as other do, with any one certaiiTplSte 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
place.

Nay, the very co lours^ 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 you feeding on a willow-tree ; and
you shall find him punctually to answer this very descrip-
tion : 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 eat, and towards winter
comes to be covered over with a strange shell or crust,
called an aurelia ; and so lives a kind of dead life, with-
out eating all the winter. And as others of several
kinds turn to be several kinds of flies and vermin, the
Spring following ; so this 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

The FOURTH DAY 137

you, I shall, for a little confirmation of what I have said,
repeat the observation of Du Bartas :

God, not contented to each kind to give
And to infiise the virtue generative.
Made, by his wisdom, many creatures breed
Of lifeless bodies, without Venus' deed.

So, the cold humour breeds th s-Salamanjer,
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 of thefoejjn burning furnace, springs
The fly Pyr austa withjhe-flaming"wings :
Without the fire, it dies : within it joys,
Living in that which each thing else destroys.

So, slow Bootes underneath him sees.
In th' icy isles, those goslings hatch'd of trees ;
Whose fruitful leaves, falling into the water.
Are tum'd, they say, to living fowls soon after.

So, rotten sides of broken ships do change
To barnacles. O transformation strange !
'Twas first a green tree ; then, a gallant hull ;
Lately a mushroom ; now, a flying gull.

Venator. 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 Jiow to mak e artificial
flias^ik e to tho sp that the TroutLio ves best : and^ also,
how to use them ?

PiscATOR. My honest scholar, it is now past five of the
clock : we will fish till nine ; and then go to breakfast.
Go you to yonder 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

138 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 meantime, 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.

Venator. I thank you, master. I will observe and
practise your direction as far as I am able.

PiscATOR. Look you, scholar ; 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 your 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.

Venator. I am glad of that : but I have no fortune :
sure, master, yours is a better rod and better tackling.

PiscATOR. Nay, then, take mine ; and I will fish with
yours. Look you, scholar, I have another. Come, do as
you did before. And now I have a bite at another. Oh
me 1 he has broke all : there 's half a line and a good hook
lost.

Venator. Ay, and a good Trout too.

PiscATOR. Nay, the Trout is not lost ; for pray take
notice, no man can lose what he never had.

Venator. Master, I can neither catch with the first
nor second angle : I have no fortune.

Piscator. 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,

Come, scholar^ come lay down your rod.

The FOURTH DAY 141

a preacher I should say, that was to preach 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 com-
posed 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, indee d, my fiddle, bu t
not my fiddle-stick ; for you are to know, that every one
-cannot make inusick with my words, which are fitted for
my own moiith.' And sO, my iScEoIar, you are to know,
that as the" ill pronunciation or ill accenting of words in a
sermon spoils it, so the ill carriage 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 though 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, nor 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 long observation,
or both. But take this for a rule. When 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 troublesome stream than in a
smaller that is quieter ; as near as may be, so much as will
sink the bait to the bottom, and keep it still in motion, and
not more.

But now, let 's say grace, and fall to breakfest. What
say you, scholar, to the providence of an old angler ? Does
not this meat taste well ? and was not this place well

142 The COMPLETE ANGLER

chosen to eat it ? for this sycamore-tree will shade us from
the sun's heat.

Venator. All excellent good ; and my stomach excel-
lent good, too. And I now remember, and find that true
which devout Lessius ^ says, ' that poor 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 such. However,
I am certain 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.

PiscATOR. My honest scholar, I will do it j 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 to me by an ingenious brother of the angle, an
honest man, and a most excellent fly-fisher.

You are to note, that there are twelve kinds of artificial
made Flies, to angle with upon the top of the water.
Note, by the way, that the fittest season of using these is
in 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 FOURTH DAY 143

the wings made of the black drake's feathers, and of the
feathers under his tail. The third is the stone-fly, in
April : the body is made of black 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 of 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 danghng 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 seventh 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 oiF 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 about with black silk ; his wings are made

144 5rA^ COMPLETE ANGLER

[ with the mail of the black drake, with a black head. Thus
i have you a jury of flies, likely to betray and condemn all
the Trouts in the river.

I shall next give you some other directions for fly-fishing,
such as are given by Mr. Thomas Barker, 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 of March, till which time a man should
not in honesty catch a Trout ; or in April, if the weather
be dark, or a little windy or cloudy; the best fishing is
with the palmer-worm, of which I last spoke to you ; but
of these there 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 :

First, you must arm your hook with the Hne, in the
inside of it : then take your scissors, and cut so much of a
brown mallard's feather as, in your own reason, will make

The FOURTH DAY 145

the wings of it, you having, withal, regard 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 or capon's neck, or
a plover's top, which is usually better : take off the one
side of the feather, and then take the hackle, silk or crewel,
gold or silver thread ; make these fast at the bent of the
hook, that is to say, below your arming ; 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 materials 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 point of the 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.

I confess, no direction can be given to make a man of a
dull capacity able to make a fly well : and yet I know this,
with a little practice, will help an ingenious 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 them,
K

146 The COMPLETE ANGLER

if he sees the Trouts leap at a fly of that kind : and then
having always hooks ready-hung with him, and having a
bag 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 body 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 bag, and trying to make a fly, though he
miss at first, yet shall he at last hit it better, even to such a
perfection as none can well teach him. And if he hit to
make his fly right, and have the luck to hit, also, where
there is store of Trouts, a dark day, and a right wind, he
will catch such store of them, as will encourage him to
grow more and more in lovg witht he art of fly-making.

Venator. But, my loving master, if any wind will not
serve, then 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.

PiscATOR. 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 they
shall come into my mind, more observations of fly-fishing
for a Trout.

But first for the wind : you are to take notice that of the
winds the southwind is said to be best. One observes, that

when the wind is south.
It blows your bait into a fish's mouth.

The FOURTH DAY 147

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 considers the
wind shall never sow ' ; so he that busies his head too much
about them, if the weather be not made extreme cold by an
east wind, shall be a little superstitious : 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 fish, 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 summer ;
and also nearer the bottom in any cold day, and then gets
nearest the lee-side of the water.

But I promised to tell you more of th eJly-fishing fo r a
Troutjjyhich 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,
tawny, 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.

And let me again tell you, that you keep as far from the
water as you can possibly, whether you fish with a fly or
worm; and fish down the stream. And when you fish

148 The COMPLETE ANGLER

with a fly, if it be possible, let no part of your line touch
the water, but your fly only j 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 j or some with red, and
a red hackle. You may also make the Hawthorn-fly.:
which is all bkck, and not big, but very small, the smaller
the better. Or the oak-fly, the body of which is orange
colour and black crewel, with a brown wing. Or a fly
made with a peacock's feather is excellent in a bright day :
you must be sure you want not in your magazine-bag the
peacock's feather ; and grounds of such wool and crewel as
will make 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 the darkest
and least fly in a bright or clear day : and lastly note, that
you are to repair upon any occasion to your magazine-bag :
and upon any occasion, vary and make them lighter or
sadder, according to your fancy, or the day.

And now I shall tell you, that the fishing with a natural-
fly is excellent, and afibrds much pleasure. They may be
found thus : the May-fly, usually in and about that month,
near to the river-side, especially against rain : the Oak-fly,
on the butt or body of an oak or ash, from the beginning
of May to 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-fly, is to be had on any hawthorn bush
after the leaves be come forth. With these and a short
line, as I shewed to angle for a Chub, you may dape or dop,

The FOURTH DAY 149

and also with a grasshopper, 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 Trouts ; 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 show er, for it has done rain inp;. And now look
about you, and see how pleasantl y that me adow lnnlfa^--aay^
and the earth smells so sweetly too. Come let me tell you
what holy Mr. tlerbert says of sucn days and flowers as
these, and then we will thank God that we enjoy them,
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.

_Only a swee t and virtuous soul.

Like season d timber, neyer j ^ives,
"Bu t when jthe yzbolc w^irlH turns to opal.
Then chiefly lives.

Venator. I thank you, good master, for your good

150 The COMPLETE ANGLER

direction for fly-fishing, and for the sweet enjoyment of the
pleasant day, which is so far spent without offence 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 1 do tii^rather believe it, because he
had a spirit suitable" to anglers, and to those primitive
Christians that yoti love, and have so much commended,

PiscATOR. Well, my loving scholar, and I 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 divine 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 better, because he is a
friend of mine, and I am sure no enemy to angling.

What ! Pray'r by th' book ? and Common ? Yes ; Why not ?
The spirit of gmce
And supplication
Is not left free alone
For time and place.
But manner too : to read, or speak, by rote.
Is all alike to him that prays.
In 's heart, what with his mouth he says.

They that in private, by 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.

The FOURTH DAY 151

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 letter :

And why should not
That, which authority
Prescribes, esteemed be
Advantage got ?
If th' prayer be good, the commoner the better,
Prayer in the Church's words, as well
As sense, of all prayers bears the bell.

Ch. Harvie.

And now, scholar, I think it will be time to repair to our
angle-rods, which we left in the water t ofish for themselves;
and'you shall choose which shall be yours ; and it is~aireveH~
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 sleep, 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 Tityrus and his Meliboeus did
under their broad beech-tree. No life, my honest scholar,
no life so happy and so pleasant as the life of a well-governed
angler ; for when the lawyer is swallowed up with business,
and the statesman is preventing or contriving plots, then
we sit on cowslip-banks, hear the birds sing, and possess
ourselves in as much quietness as these silent silver streams.

152 The COMPLETE ANGLER

which we now see ghde 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
1 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 '11 tell you, scholar ; when I sat last on this primrose-
bank, and looked down these meadows, I thought of them
as Charles the emperor did of the city of Florence : ' That
they were too pleasant to be looked on, but only on holy-
days.' As I then sat on this very grass, I turned my
present thoughts into verse : 'twas a Wish, which I '11
repeat to you : —

THE ANGLER'S WISH.

I in these flowery meads would be :
These crystal streams should solace me ;
To whose harmonious bubbling noise
I with my Angle would rejoice :
Sit here, and see the tu ttle-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 sweetjfijj^^ciieps kiss these flowers,
And then washed off by April showers :
Here, hear m y Kenna .s tn^ i a song ;
There, see a blackbird feed her young.

Or a leverock build her nest :

Here, give my weary spirits rest.

And raise my low-pitch'd thoughts above

Earth, or what poor mortals love :

Thus, free from law-suits and the noise
Of princes' courts, I would rejoice :
^ Like Hermit Poor.

The FOURTH DAY 153

Or, with my Biyan, and a book.
Loiter long days near Shawford-brook ; ^
There sit by him, and eat my meat,
There see the sun both rise and set :
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 honeysuckle hedge,
one that will prove worth your acquaintance. I sat down
by him, and presently we met with an accidental piece of
merriment, which I will relate 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 mysterious 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, that was to be divided
unto four gentlemen 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 twenty
shillings, which all men know is 6s. id. The second was
to have a fourth part of the 20i., which all men know to be
fj. The third was to have a fifth part of the 20x., which
all men know to be 4^. The fourth and last gypsy was to
have a sixth part of the 7.0s., which all men know to be

154 I'he COMPLETE ANGLER

As for example,

3 times 6s. id. are . . . zos.

And so is 4 times $3. . . 20s.

And so is 5 times 4J. . . 20s.

And so is 6 times jj. ^. . 20s.

And yet he that divided the money was so verya gypsy,
that though he gave to every one these saU sums^'yeF he
kept one shilling of it for himself.

As, for example, s. d.

6 g

S o
4 °
3 4

make but 190

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 wrangled with him; and every one said the
remaining shilling belonged to him ; and so they fell to so
high a contest about it, as none that knows the faithfulness
of one gypsy 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 gypsies
were too wise to go to law, and did therefore choose their
choice friends Rook and Shark, and our late English Gus-
man,^^ to be their arbitrators and umpires. And so they left
this honeysuckle hedge; and went to tell fortunes and
cheat, and get more money and lodging in the next village.

When 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 oneT

A gang of gyt""-

The FOURTH DAY 157

but that was denied, by asking her, If doing and undoing
were all one ? Then another said, 'twas easiest to unrip a
cloak J for that was to let it alone : but she was answered,
by asking her, how she unript it if she let it alone ? and she
confest herself mistaken. These and twenty such like
questions were proposed and answered, with as much
beggarly logick and earnestness as was ever heard to pro-
ceed from the mouth of the most pertinacious schismatick ;
and 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
audience ; and told them that old father Clause, whom Ben
Jonson, in his Beggar's Bush, created King of their cor-
poration, was to lodge at an ale-house, called ' Catch-her-
by-the-way,' not far from Waltham 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 meantime draw 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 youngest,
and veriest virgin of the company. And she sung Frank
Davison's ^' song, which he made forty years ago ; and all the
others of the company joined to sing the burthen with her.
The ditty was this ; but first the burthen :

Bright shines the sun; play, Beggars, play;
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 where Beggars meet ?

A Beggar's life is for a King.

IS8 The COMPLETE ANGLER

Eat, drink, and play ; sleep when we list ;
Go where we will, so stocks be mist.

Bright shines the sun ; play, Beggars, play ;

Here 's scraps enough to serve to-day.

The world is ours, and ours alone j

For we alone have world at will ;
We purchase not ; all is our own ;

Both fields and streets we Beggars fill.
Nor care to get, nor fear to keep.
Did ever break a Beggar's sleep.

Play, Beggars, play ; play, Beggars, play ;

Here 's scraps enough to serve to-day.

A hundred head of black and white

Upon our gowns securely feed j
If any dare his master 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.

Venator. I thank you, good master, for this piece of
merriment, and this song, which was well humoured by the
maker, and well remembered by you.

PiscATOR. But, I pray, forget 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 interest our angles will pay us for
lending them so long to be used by the Trouts ; lent them
indeed, like usurers, for our profit and their destruction.

Venator. Oh me ! look you, master, a fish ! a fish !
Oh, alas, master, I have lost her.

'UUK^

' Bright shhes the sun ; flay. Beggars, play.'

The FOURTH DAY i6i

PiscATOR. Ay marry, Sir, that was a good fish indeed :
if I had had the luck to have taken up that rod, then 'tis
twenty to one he should not have broke my line by running
to the rod's end, as you suffered him. I would have held
him within the bent of my rod, unless he had been fellow
to the great Trout that is 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 al-^ays to do
when I meet with an overgrown fish j and you W|JU learn to
do so too, hereafter, for I tell you, scholar, fishing^s an art,
or, at least, it is an art to catch fish.

Venator. But, master, I have heard that the great Trout
you speak of is a Salmon.

PiscATOR. Trust me, scholar, I know not what to say
to it. There are many country people that belie ve 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 in-
credible things,' that Gasper Peucerus,^^ a learned physician,
tells us of a people that once a year turn v gplves, p artly in
shape, and partly in conditions. And so, whether this were
a Salmon when he came into fresh water, and his not
returning 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.

Venator. But, master, will this Trout which I had
h

1 62 The COMPLETE ANGLER

hold of die ? for it is like he hath the hook in his
belly.

PiscATOR. 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 my rod. Look you,
scholar,^! have a fish too, but it proves a logger-headed
)Chub : and. this is not much amiss, for this will pleasure
some poor Ibody, as we go to our lodging to meet our
brother Peier and honest Coridon. 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 concerning fishing, for I
would fain make you an artist.

Venator. Yes, good master, I pray let it be so.

PiscATOR. Well, scholar, now we are sate 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 stream where
the waters run somewhat quietly, for in a stream the bait
will not be so well discerned. I say, in a quiet or dead
place, near to some swift, there draw your bait over the
top of the water, 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,

"N,

Drumming up carpi

The FOURTH DAY 165

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
dead holes, where these great old Trouts usually lie, near
to their holds ; for you are to note, that the great old
Trout is both subtle 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 the timorous 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 strong line, and not
a little hook ; and let him have time to gorge your hook,
for he does not usually forsake it, as he oft will in the day-
fishing. And if the night be not dark, then fish so with
an artificial fly of a light colour, and at the snap : nay, he
will sometimes rise at a dead mouse, or a piece of cloth, or
anything 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 pleasures that such days as these,
that we two now enjoy, afford 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 used 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
I would not believe it till I was an eye-witness of it, nor do
I like it now I have seen it.

Venator. But, master, do not Trouts see us in the
night ?

PiscATOR. Yes, and hear, and smell too, both then and
in the day-time : for Gesner observes, the Otter smells a

1 66 The COMPLETE ANGLER

fish fn rjjjiirlnngg f^ ff him in the water : an d that it may
be true, seems to be affirmed by Sir jrancis Bac on, in the
eighth century of his Natural History^ who there proves
that waters may be the meHiunTTDf-sounds, by demonstrat-
ing 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 concern-
ing the letting an anchor fall, by a very long cable or
rope, on a rock, or the sand, within the sea. And this
being so well observed and demonstrated 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 has made me crave
pardon of one that I laughed at for affirming that he knew
Carps come to a certain place, in a pond, to be fed at the
tinging 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 any 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 Hakewill,^* who in his Apology of God's power and
providence, quotes Pliny t o report that one of the emperors
had particular fishr-ponds, and, in them, several fish that

appeared ^"'^ r- ^rr^^-^^ in y kh -i " . ulU i l l . y i l i i.i i' | u i - .

ticular Tiames . And St. James tells us, that all things
in the sea have been tamed by mankind. And Pliny tells
us, that Antonia, the wife of Drusus, had a L-amprey
at whose gills she hung jewels or ear-rings j and that

The FOURTH DAY 169

others have been so ^y\^prJnp-xrtpA ^a tn shpA «-pgrg qf- thp
dEatlTof fishes w hirVi thpj ^""f'' Vr^* ^""^ Invprl And

these observations, which will to most hearers seem wonder-
fiil, seem to have a further confirmation from Martialj, who
writes thus : — -c==^-'

Piscator,fuge i ne nocens, etc.

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, they Ve names, and, when they called are,
Do to their several owner's call repair.

All the further use that I shall make of this shall be, to
advise anglers to be patient, and forbear swearing, lest they
^rd. an d catch no

And so I shall proceed next to tell you, it is certain that
certain fields near Leominster, a town in Herefordshire,
are observed to make the sheep that graze upon them more
fat than the next, and also to bear finer wool ; that 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 ; and coarser, 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'lonsy ; afld rgTcertaiTTly ^JE-I catcTi
a "Trout in the next~TneadtjWpTie"sh^l bes trong, andj ;ed^
and lusty, andmuch_betteiU5§at^- 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

170

The COMPLETE ANGLER

such as hath joyed me to look on him : and I have then,
with much pleasure, concluded with Solomon, ' Everything
is beautiful in his season.'

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 feeding,
that I desire I may exercise your patience with a short
discourse of him ; and then, the next shall be of the
Salmon.

The FOURTH T)KY— continued
The Umber or Grayling

CHAPTER VI

PISCATOR

The Umber and Grayling are thought 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. Aldrovandus says, they be
of a Trout kind ; and Gesner says, that in his country,
which is Switzerland, he is accounted the choicest of
all fish. And in Italy, he is, in the month of May, so
highly valued, that he is sold there at a much higher rate
than any other fish. T he French, which call the Chub
Un Villain, call the Umber of the lake Leman Un Umb le
Chejalier; 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 bellies 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 j and they may think so
with as good reason as we do that our Smelts smell like
violets at their being first caught, which I think is a truth.

m

172 The COMPLETE ANGLER

Aldrovaadus 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 cont entedness in
feasting with__hieii._.Whether this is a truth or~nof, is not
my purpose to dispute : but 'tis certain, all that write of
the Umber declare him to be very medicinable. And
Gesner says, that the fat of an Umber or Grayling, being
set, with a little honey, a day or two in the sun, in a little
glass, is very excellent against redness or swarthiness, or
anything that breeds in 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 festing-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 j and
pass on to tell you how to take this dainty fish.

First note, that he grows not to the bigness of a Trout j
for the biggest of them do not usually exceed eighteen
inches. He lives in such rivers as the Trout does j and is
usually taken with the same baits as the Trout is, and after
the same manner ; for he will bite both at the minnnwyor
-aoi rm, or fiy,_ though he bites not often at the minnow,
and is very gamesome at the fly ; and much simpler, and
therefore bolder than a Trout ; for he will rise twenty
times at a fly, if you miss him, and yet rise again. He
has been taken with a fly made of the red feathers of a
paroquet, a strange outlandish bird ; and he will rise at
a fly not unlike a gnat, or a small moth, or, indeed, at most

The FOURTH DAY

173

flies that are not too big. He is a fish that lurlcs close all
Winter, but is very pleasant and jolly after mid-April, and
in May, and in the hot months. He is of a very fine
shape, his flesh is white, his teeth, those little ones that he
has, are in his throat, yet he has so tender a mouth, that he
is oftener lost after an angler has hooked him than any
other fish. Though there be many of these fishes in the
delicate river Dove, 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
come to some observations of the Salmon, and how to
catch him.

The FOURTH TiKY— continued
'The Salmon

CHAPTER VII

PISCATOR

THE_Sal«fton--is- accounted the Kin g of freshwater fish;

and is ever bred in rivers relating io 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 spawn, in

most rivers, in the month 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 ofEce, and then hide it most cunningly, and

cover it over with gravel and stones ; and then leave it to

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 time, 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
m

The FOURTH DAY 175

lean, and unseasonable, and kipper, that is to say, have
bony 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. 'Tis observed,
that he may live thus one year from the sea ; but he then
grows insipid and tasteless, and loses both his blood and
strength, and pines and dies the second year. And 'tis
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 con-
siderable 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 summer 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 B acon hath observed in his^ fftctfiry nf Tjff
and Deaths ab ove 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 get fi-om the sea, they be both the fetter
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 get out of the salt into the fresh
rivers, to spawn, or possess the pleasures that they have
formerly found in them : to which end, they will force

176 The COMPLETE ANGLER

themselves through floodgates, 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 wonder to be in
Pembrokeshire, where the river Tivy falls into the sea;
and that the fell is so downright, and so high, that the
people stand and wonder at the strength and sleight 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 Polyolbion :

And when the Salmon seeks a fresher stream to find ;
(Which hither from the sea comes, yearly, by his kind,)
As he towards season grows ; and stems the watiy tract
Where 'Ti'vy, 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.
Far off itself doth cast ; so does the Salmon vault :
And if, at first, he fail, his second summersault
He instantly essays, and, from his nimble ring
Still yerking, never leaves until himself he fling
Above the opposing stream.

This Michael Drayton tells you, of this leap or summer-
sault of the Salmon.

The FOURTH DAY 177

And, next, I shall tell you, that it is observed by Gesner
and others, that there is no better Salmon than in Eng-
land J and that though some of our northern counties have
as fat, and as large, as the river Thames, yet none are
of so excellent a taste.

And as I have told you tha t^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, he becomes, from a Samlet not
so big as a Gudgeon, 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 riband, or some known tape or thread,
in the tail of some young Salmons which have been taken
in weirs as they have swimmed towards the salt water j
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 habitations for the
summer following ; which has inclined many to think,
that every Salmon usually returns to the same river in
which it was bred, as young pigeons taken out of the
same dovecote have also been observed to do.

And you are yet to observe further, that the He-salmon
is usually bigger than the Spawner ; and that he is more
kipper, and lees able to endure a winter in the fresh
water than the 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

M

178 The COMPLETE ANGLER

this nation that have Trouts and Salmon in season in
winter, as 'tis certain there be in the river Wye in Mon-
mouthshire, where they be in season, as Camden observes,
from September till April. But, my scholar, the obser-
vation of this and many other things I 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 Salmon.

And, for that : First you shall observe, that usually he
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 usually in
the middle, and near the ground, and that there you 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 observed
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 ^rden-wor m^ which should be well scoured,
that is to say, kept seven or 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 will 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 used to fish for a Salmon with a
ring of wire on the top of their rod, through which the line
may run to as great a length as is needful, when he is

The FOURTH DAY 179

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 Hen ly, now
with God, a noted fisher both for Trout and Salmon j and
have observed, that he would usually take three or four
worms 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 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 expression or in-
fusion ; and told, that by the worms remaining in that box an
hour, or a like time, they had incorporated a kind of smell
that was irresistibly attractive, 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 SiE__EianGis — R^f-nn'c
Natural History, where he proves fishes may hear, and,
"dou^less, can ' more probably smell : and I am certain ^
Gesner says, the Otter can smell in the water ; and I know
not but that fish may do so too. 'Tis left for a lover of
angling, or any that desires to improve that art, to try this
conclusion.

i8o The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 the stinking oil drawn outofpolypodyof the oak by
a retort, mixed with turpentine and hive-honey, and anoint
your bait therewith, and it will doubtless draw the fish to
it.' The other is this : ' Vulnera hederas grandissimae
inflicta sudant balsamum oleo gelato, albicantique persimile,
odoris vero longe suavissimi.' ' 'Tis supremely sweet to any
fish, and yet assa foetida may do the like.'

But in these I have no great faith ; yet grant it probable ;
and have had from some chymical men, namely, from Sir
George Hastings and others, an affirmation of them to be
very advantageous. But no more of these ; especially not
in this place.

I might here, before I take my leave of the Salmon, tell
you, that there is more than one sort of them, as namely,
a Tecon, and another called in some places a Samlet, or by
some a Skegger ; but these, and others which I forbear to
name, may be fish of another kind, and diiFer as we know a
Herring and a Pilchard do, which, I think, are as different
as the rivers in which they breed, and must, by me, be left
to the disquisitions of men of more leisure, and of greater
abilities than I profess myself to have.

And lastly, I am to borrow so much of your promised
patience, as to tell you, that the trout, or Salmon, being in
season, have, at their first taking out of the water, which
continues during life, their bodies adorned, the one with
such red spots, and the other with such black or blackish

The FOURTH DAY

i8i

spots, as give them such an addition of natural beauty as,
I think, was never given to any wroman by the artificial
paint or patches in virhich they so much pride themselves in
this age. And so I shall leave them both j and proceed to
some observations of the Pike,

The FOURTH T> AY— continued
On the Luce or Pike

CHAPTER VIII

PISCATOR AND VENATOR

PiscATOR. The mighty Luce or Pike is taken to be the
tyrjioty as the Salmon is the king, of the fresh waters. 'Tis
not to be doubted, but that they are bred, some by genera-
tion, and some not ; as namely, of a weed called pickerel-
weed, unless learned Gesner b e much mistaken, for he says,
this weed and othe r glutinous m atter^ with tbp brip nf thr
sun's heat, in some particular months, and so me ponds,
apted for it by natu re, do become Pikes. IJu t, 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 History of Life and Death,
observes the Pike to be the longest lived of any tresh- water
fish ; and yet he computes it to be not usually above igrty
years ; and others think it to be not above ten years : and
yet 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 inscriptioii|

Vmi that ring, being Greek, was interpreted by the then

182

The FOURTH DAY 183

Bishop of Worms. But 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 be
the better for age and bigness.

All Pikes that live long prove chargeable to their keepers,
because theirjife_is_jnaintainai_by_jhe_deatluof-so- n r aiiy
other fi sh, event hose of their ogji kind ; yyhich has made
him by some writers to be called the Jyrant o f the rivers,
or the fresh-water wolf, by reason of his bold, greedy,
Mevouring disposition ; which is so keen, 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~Tuing 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 waslimg clothes in a pond. And I have
heard the like of a woman i n Killingworth pond, not far
from Coventry. But I have been assured by my friend
Mr. Segrave, of whom I spake to you formerly, that
keeps tame Otters, that he hath known a Pike, in extreme
hunger, fight^witn one of his Otters for a Carp that the
Otter had caught, and was then bringing out of the water.
I have told you who relate these things ; and tell you they
are persons of credit ; and shall conclude this observation,
by telling you, what a wise man has observed, ' It is a hard
thing to persuade the belly, because it has no ears.'

But if these relations be disbelieved, it is too evident to
be doubted, that a Pike will devour a fish of his own kind
that shall be bigger than his belly or throat will receive,

1 84 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 j 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 eat venomous
things, as some kind of frogs are, and yet live without
being harmed 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 appear 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 eats the
venomous frog till he have first killed her, and then as
ducks are observed to do to frogs in spawning-time, at which
time some frogs are observed to be venomous, so thoroughly
washed her, by tumbling her up and down in the water,
that he may devour her without danger. And Gesner
affirms, that a Polonian gentleman did faithfully assure him,
he had seen two young geese at one time in the belly of a
Pike. And doubtlesi a Talcs' in his height of hunger will
bite at and devour a dog that swims in a pond ; and there
have been examples ot 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, mslanchelyj .
and a ^boldfish ; melancholy, because he~always swims or
rests himself alone, and never swims in shoals or with com-
pany, as Roach and Dace, and most other fish do : and bold,

The FOURTH DAY 185

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 man-
kind : but he observes, that the biting of a Pike is venom-
ous, 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 : as 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 spawn-
ing, is usually about the end of February, or, somewhat
later, in March, as the weather proves colder or warmer :
and to note, that his manner of breeding is thus : a he
and a she Pike will usually go together out of a river into
some ditch or creek ; and that there the spawner casts
her eggs, and the melter hovers over her all that time
that she is casting her spawn, but touches her not.

I might say 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 you that the best
of Pikes are noted to be 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, who, in his book Of Fish and
Fish-ponds, relates what he says he saw with his own

1 86 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 expressed malice or anger
by his swoln cheeks and staring eyes, did stretch out his
legs and embrace 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 j but
all in vain, for the frog did continue to ride triumphantly,
and to bite and torment the Pike till his strength failed j
and then the frog sunk with the Pike to the bottom of
the water : then presently the frog appeared 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 beheld 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 W ater-dev il, of which
I might tell you as wonderfiil a story : but I shall tell
you that 'tis not to be doubted but that there be some

The FOURTH DAY 187

frogs so fearful of the water-snake, that when they swim
in a place in which they fear to meet with him, they then
get a reed across into their 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. Concerning
which take this observation, that the land-snake breeds
and hatches her eggs, which become young 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, does not hatch, but
breed her young alive, which she does not then forsake,
but bides with them, and in case of danger 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, according to my promise, how
to catch this Pike.

His feeding is usually of fish or frogs ; and sometimes
a weed of his own, called pickerel-weed, of which I told
you some think Pikes are bred ; for they 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 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
AJisquisitions of men of more curiosity and leisure than

r88 The COMPLETE ANGLER

I profess myself to have : and shall proceed to tell you,
that you may fish for a Pike, either with a ledger or a
walking-bait; and you are to note, that I call that a
Ledger-bait, which is fixed or made to rest in one certain
place when you shall be absent from it ; 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), whether 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 xive-bait. Of fish, a roach or dace
is, I think, best and most tempting; and a perch 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 bruising or hurting the fish 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, betwixt the skin and the body of it, draw out
that wire or arming of your hook at another scar near to
his tail : then tie him about it with thread, 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 or arming : but as for these, time
and a little experience will teach you better than I can
by words. Therefore I will for the present say no more
of this ; but come next to give you some directions how
to bait your hook with a frog.

The FOURTH DAY 189

Venator. But, good master, did you not say even
now, that some &pgswerg,-venomous ; and is it not danger-
ous to touch them ?

PiscATOR. Yes, but I will give you some rules or
cautions 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 several colours, some
being speckled, some greenish, some blackish, or brown :
the green frog, which is a small one, is, by Topsel, taken
to be venomous ; and so is the paddock, or frog-paddock,
which usually keeps or breeds on the land, and is very
large and bony, 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 earth, 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 Cardanus^^ undertakes to give a
reason for the raming of frogs : but if it were in my
power, it should rain none but water-frogs ; for those
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 slime : about which
time of breeding, the he and she frogs are observed
to use divers summersaults, and to croak and make
a noise, which the land-frog, or paddock-frog, never
does.

Now of these water-frogs, if you intend to fish with a
frog for a Pike, you are to choose the yellowest that you

rgo The COMPLETE ANGLER

can get, 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 knows how : I say, put your
hook, I mean the arming-wire, through his mouth, and
out at his gills ; and then with a fine needle and silk sew
the upper part of his leg, with only one stitch, to the
arming-wire of your hook j 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 possibly, that he may live the longer.

And now, having given you this direction for the bait-
ing 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 : having fastened your hook
to a line, which if it be not fourteen yards long should not
be less than twelve, you are 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, with such a nick or
notch at one end of it as may keep the line from any
more of it ravelling from about the stick than so much of
it as you intend. And choose your forked stick to be of
that bigness as may keep the 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 have
line enough to go to his hold and pouch the bait. And

l(rved him.

The FOURTH DAY 193

if you would have this ledger-bait to keep at a fixt place
undisturbed by wind or other accidents which may drive
it to the shore-side, for you are to note, that it is likeliest
to catch a Pike in the midst of the water, then hang a
small plummet of lead, a stone, or piece of tile, or a turf,
in a string, and cast it into the water with the forked
stick to hang upon the ground, to be a kind of anchor to
keep the forked stick from moving out of your intended
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 frogs,
and in a windy day, fasten them thus to a bough or bundle
of straw, and by the help of that wind can get them to
move across 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 yet, because I cut you short in
that, I will commute for it by telling you that that was

N

194 The COMPLETE ANGLER

told me for a secret : it is this : Dissolve gum of ivy in oil
of spike, and therewith anoint your dead bait for a Pike ;
and then cast it into a likely place ; and when it has lain a
short time at the bottom, draw it tovi^ards the top of the
water, and so up the stream ; and it is more than likely
that you have a Pike follow with more than common
eagerness. And some affirm, that any bait anointed with
the marrow of the thigh-bone of a heron is a great tempta-
tion 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 thus do you no good, yet I
am certain this direction how to roast him when he is
caught is choicely good ; for I have tried it, and it is some-
what the better for not being common. But with my
direction you must take this caution, that your Pike must
not be a small one, that is, it must be more than half a yard,
and should be bigger.

' First, open your Pike at the 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 some anchovies, two
or three; both these last whole, for the anchovies 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, and 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 pound, 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

Too good for any but anglers, or very honest men.

The FOURTH DAY 197

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 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
anchovies, and butter, mixt together ; and also with what
moisture falls from him into the pan. Wheii 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 unbroken and complete.
Then, to the sauce which was within, and also that sauce
in the pan, you are to add a fit quantity of the best butter,
and to squeeze the juice of three or four oranges. Lastly,
you may either put it 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 haut gout, let the
dish into which you let the Pike fall be rubbed with it :
The using or not using 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 Gesner tells us, there are no
Pikes in Spain, and that the la^estTtre-in the lake Thrasy-
mene in Italy ; and the next, if not equal to them, are the
Pikes of England ; and that in England, Lincolnshire

198

The COMPLETE ANGLER

boasteth to have the biggest. Just so doth Sussex boast of
four sorts of fish, namely, an Arundel Mullet, a Chichester
Lobster, a Shelsey Cockle, and an Amerly Trout.

But I will take up no more of your time with this
relation, but proceed to give you some Observations of the
Carp, and how to angle for him ; and to dress him, but not
till he is caught.

The FOURTH T>KY— continued
On the Carp

CHAPTER IX

PISCATOR

The Carp is the queen of rivers ; a stately, a good, and
a very subtil fish ; that w^as not at first bred, nor hath been
long in England, but is now naturalized. It is said, they
were brought hither by one Mr. Mascal, a gentleman
that then lived at Plumsted 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
are no Pikes in Spain ; and doubtless there was a time,
about a hundred or a few more years ago, when there were
no Carps in England, as may seem to be affirmed by Sir
Richard Baker, in whose Chronicle you may find these

verses :

Hops and turkies, carps and beer.
Came into England all in a year.

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 its own proper element ; and, therefore, the report

201

202 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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, which Pikes and most other fish do not j 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 ; buf; where they will breed,
they breed innumerably : Aristotle and Pliny say, six times
in a year, if there be no Pikes nor Perch 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 by Jovius, 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
contrary, 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 a hundred ye^rs. And 'tis also

The FOURTH DAY 203

observed, that the crocodile is very long-lived ; and more
than that, that all that long life he thrives in bigness ; and
so I think some Carps do, especially in some places, though
I never S2.vr one above twenty-three inches, which was a
great and 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 mys-
terious : 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 them, 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 melters 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 had almost watched the pond, and, at
a like distance of time, at the fishing of a pond, found, of
seventy, or eighty large Carps, not above five or six : and
that he had forborne longer to fish the said pond, but that
he saw, in a hot day in summer, a large Carp swim near
the top of the water with a frog upon his head ; and that
he, upon that occasion, caused his pond to be let dry :
and I say, of seventy or eighty Carps, only found five or
six in the said pond, and those very sick and lean, and
with every one a frog sticking so fast on the head of the

204 The COMPLETE ANGLER

said Carps, that the frog would not be got off without ex-
treme 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
the frogs, and then devoured.

And a person? of honour, now living in Worcestershire,^
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 : I
shall therefore give you three or four more short observa-
tions 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 Death, observed to be but ten years ; yet others
think they live longer. Gesner says, a Carp has been
know to live in the Palatine 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 buy them : but Gesner says. Carps have no
tongue like other fish, but a piece of fieshlike 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.

The FOURTH DAY 205

I told you that Sir Francis Bacon thinks that the Carp
lives but ten years : but Janus Dubravius has writ a
book Of fish and fish-ponds in which he says, 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 genera-
tion, that then three or four male Carps will follow a
female ; and that then, she putting on a seeming coyness,
they force her through weeds and flags, where she lets fell
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
that 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 her from ofF 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 worth 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 honeycombs, 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 Pikes do.

The physicians make the galls and stones in the heads
of Carps to be very medicinable. But it is not to be
doubted but that in Italy they make great profit of the
spawn of Carps, by selling it to the Jews, who make it
into red caviare ; the Jews not being by their law admitted

2o6 The COMPLETE ANGLER

to eat of caviare made of the Sturgeon, that being a fish
that wants scales, and, as may appear in Leviticus xi., by
them reputed to be unclean.

Much more might be said out of him, and out of Aris-
totle, v/hich Dubravius often quotes in his Discourse of
Fishes : 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 Carp, or 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 river 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 you are to remember that I have told you
there is no rule without an exception ; and therefore being
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 you are to know, that
it must be either early, or late ; and let 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
curious 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 ;

The FOURTH DAY 207

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 honey 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 undertake your trial of skill with the
angle-rod j 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 sport. Or, in a large pond, to draw them
to any certain place, that they may the 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's guts or the like ;
and then, some of your small sweet pellets with which you
propose to angle : and these 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 cat, cut small j 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 together in
a mortar, or sometimes work them in your hands, your
hands being very clean j and then make it 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 it, 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 too much, white or yellowish wool.

2o8 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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, then put upon
your hook a small piece of scarlet about this bigness 1 [^
it being soaked in or anointed with oil of petre, called by
some, oil of the rock : and if your gentles 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 your 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 I 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, my next discourse 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

The FOURTH DAY

209

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 into 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 suffi-
ciently 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.

rhe FOURTH Vi hX— continued
On the Bream

CHAPTER X

PISCATOR

The Bream, being at a full growth, is a large and stately
fish. He will breed both in rivers and ponds : but loves
best to live in ponds, and where, if he 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 overstore 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

210

The FOURTH DAY 211

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
aiErms 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 pdiit^fbelieving 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
History of Life and Death, fol. 20, that there be some herbs
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 will bite freely. Or he
will bite at a grasshopper with his legs nipt off, in June and
July ; or at several flies, under water, 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

212 The COMPLETE ANGLER

turn them all into this most excellent one, either for a
Carp or Bream, in any river or mere : it was given to me
by a most honest and excellent angler j 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 pipkin 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, get your tackling
ready and fitted for this sport. Take three long angling-
rods ; and as many and more silk, or silk and hair, lines ;
and as many large swan or goose-quill floats. Then take
a piece of lead made after this manner, and fasten
them to the low ends of your lines : then 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 under 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 Perch, 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 enticeth the fish to
bite without suspicion.

The FOURTH DAY 213

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 their deep holes, and returning, which
you may well discern, for they return about four of the
clock, most of them seeking food at the bottom, yet one or
two will lie on the top of the water, rolling and tumbling
themselves, whilst the rest are under him at the bottom ;
and so you shall perceive him to keep sentinel : 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 thereabouts, at a clear bottom and a convenient
landing-place, take one of your angles ready fitted as afore-
said, 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, to 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 foimd 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, according
to the greatness of the stream and deepness of the water,
where you mean to angle, of sweet gross-ground barley-

214 The COMPLETE ANGLER

malt J 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 handfiils a little the higher, upwards
the stream. You may, between your hands, close the malt
so fast in handfuls, that the water will hardly part it with
the fall.

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 morning, about
three or four of the clock, visit the water-side, 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 diligently. 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

Go yourself so far from the 'water-side.

The FOURTH DAY 217

as possibly you can : if it be a good Carp or Bream, they
will go to the farther side of the river : then strike gently,
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 is necessary for you to know,
and to be mindful and careful of, that if the Pike or Perch
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 j 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 Bream hook, for I have taken a Pike
a 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 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

2i8 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 are gathering together, for there
they 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 fettest.

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 meantime, on the place you late
baited, and again intend to bait, you shall take a turf of
green but short grass, as big or bigger than a round
trencher ; to the top of this turf, on the green side, you
shall, with a needle and green 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

Tou may take a pipe of tobacco.

The FOURTH DAY

221

a pole, let it down to the bottom of the water, for the fish
to feed upon 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 FOURTH Vi hX— continued
On the Tench

CHAPTER XI

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 Dorsetshire that
abounds with Tenches, but doubtless they retire to the
most deep and quiet places in it.

This fish hath 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 wholesome meat,
though there be very much use made of them for outward
applications. Rondeletius says, 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

The FOURTH DAY 223

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
nature 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 communicating them to
any other nation or tribe ; for to do that they account a
profenation. 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, were discovered by them, or by
revelation ; for, doubtless, we attained them not by study.

Well, this fish, besides his 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 themselves fit to meddle
with hidden secrets, and so bring destruction to their
followers. But I'll not meddle with them, any farther
than to wish them wiser ; and shall tell you next, for
I hope I may be so bold, that the Tench is the physician of
fishes, for the Pike especially, 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 yet, I am sure, he eats
pleasantly, and, doubtless, you will think so too, if you

224

The COMPLETE ANGLER

taste him. And I shall therefore proceed to give you some
few, and but a few, directions how to catch this Tench,
of which I have given you these observations.

He will bite at a paste, made of brown bread and honey,
or at a marsh-worm, or a lob-worm ; he inclines very
much to any paste with which tar is mixt, and he will bite
also at a smaller-worm with his head nipped 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 I have not often angled for ; but I
wish my honest scholar may, and be ever fortunate when
he fishes.

The FOURTH T> hX— continued
On the Perch

CHAPTER XII

PISCATOR AND VENATOR

PiscATOR. The Perch 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 hooked or hog back, w^hich
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, which the Pike
will not do so willingly; and you may, therefore, easily
believe him to be a bold biter.

The Perch is of great esteem in Italy, saith Aldro-
vandus: and especially the least are there esteemed a
dainty dish. And Gesner prefers the Perch and Pike
above the Trout, or any fresh-water fish : he says the
Germans have this proverb, * More wholesome than a
Perch of Rhine': and he says the River-Perch is so
wholesome, that physicians allow him to be eaten by
p

226 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 of diges-
tion. They abound more in the river Po, and in England,
says Rondeletius, than other parts : and have in their
brain a stone, which is, in foreign parts, sold by apothe-
caries, being there noted to be very medicinable against the
stone in the reins. These be a part of the commendations
which some philosophical brains have bestowed upon the
fresh-water Perch ; yet they commend the Sea-Perch, 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 Perch 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
hunger the Pike will not devour. For to affright the
Pike, and save himself, the Perch will set up his fins,
much like as a turkey-cock will sometimes set up his tail.

But, my scholar, the Perch 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 ab-
stemious in winter, yet will bite then in the midst of
the day, if it be warm : and note, 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 mul-
berry-tree buds; that is to say, till extreme frosts be

The FOURTH DAY 227

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 Perch's biting.

But bite the Perch will, and that very boldly. And, as
one has wittily observed, if there be twenty or forty in
a hole, they may be, at one standing, all catched one after
another ; they being, as he says, like the wicked of the
world, not afraid, though their fellows and companions
perish in their sight. And you may observe, that they are
not like the solitary Pike, but love to accompany one another,
and march together in troops.

And the baits for this bold fish are not many : I mean,
he will bite as well at some, or at any of these three, as at
any or all others whatsoever : 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 j or he will
bite at a worm that lies under cow-dung, with a bluish
head. And if you rove for a Perch virith 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 Perch 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 Perch time enough when he bites ;
for there was scarce ever any angler that has given him too
much. And now I think best to rest myself; for I have
almost spent my spirits with talking so long.

228 The COMPLETE ANGLER

Venator. Nay, good master, one fish more, for you see
it rains still : and you know our angles are like money put
to usury; they may thrive, though we sit still, and do
nothing but talk and enjoy one another. Come, come, the
other fish, good master.

PisCATOR. But, scholar, have you nothing to mix with
this discourse, which now grows both tedious and tiresome ?
Shall I have nothing from you, that seem to have both a
good memory and a cheerful spirit ?

Venator. Yes, master, I will speak you a copy of verses
that were made by Doctor Donne, and made to shew the
world that he could make soft and smooth verses, when he
thought smoothness worth his labour : and I love them the
better, because they allude to Rivers, and Fish and^Fishing.
They be these :

Come, live with me, and be my love.
And we will some new pleasures prove.
Of golden sands, and crystal brooks.
With silken lines, and silver hooks.

There will the river whisp'ring run,
Warm'd by thy eyes more than the sun ;
And there the emmel'd fish will stay.
Begging themselves they may betray.

When thou wilt swim in that live bath.
Each fish, which every channeLhath,
Most amorously to thee will swim.
Gladder to catch thee, than thou him.

If thou, to be so seen, beest loath
By sun or moon, thou dark'nest both ;
And if mine eyes have leave>to see,
I need not their light, having thee.

The FOURTH DAY 229

Let others freeze with angling reeds.
And cut their legs with shells and weeds,
Or treacherously poor fish beset
With strangling snares or windowy net ;

Let coarse bold hands, from slimy nest,
The bedded fish in banks outwrest ;
Let curious traitors sleave silk flies.
To witch poor wand'ring fishes' eyes.

For thee, thou need'st no such deceit.
For thou thyself art thine own bait j
That fish that is not catcht thereby.
Is wiser afar, alas, than I.

PiscATOR. Well remembered, honest scholar. I thank
you for these choice verses ; which I have heard formerly,
but had quite forgot, til} they wrere recovered by your
happy memory. Well, being I have now rested myself a
little, I wrill make you some requital, by telling you some
observations of the Eel ; for it rains still : and because, as
you say, our angles are as money put to use, that thrives
when we play, therefore we '11 sit still, and enjoy ourselves a
little longer under this honeysuckle hedge.

rhe FOURTH TiKY— continued
Of the Eel, and other Fish that want Scales

CHAPTER XIII

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 diiFer about their breeding : some say they breed
by generation, as other fish do ; and others, that they
breed, as some worms do, of mud j 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 putrefaction 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 as 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 dis-
cerned they may be ; and that the He and the She Eel may

230

The FOURTH DAY 233

be distinguished by their fins. And Rondeletius says, he
has seen Eels ding 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 dewdrops, which are condensed
by the sun's heat in those countries, so Eels are bred of a
particular dew, falling in the months of May or June on the
banks of some particular ponds or rivers, apted by nature for
that end ; which in a few days are, by the sun's heat,
turned into Eels : and some of the 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 with young Eels, about the
tliickness of a straw ; and these Eels did lie on the top of
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 Severn,
where they are called Yelvers ; and in a pond, or mere near
unto Staffordshire, 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 Vener-
able 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 to 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 Lobel, and also
by our learned Camden, and laborious Gerhard in his Herbal.

234 The COMPLETE ANGLER

It is said by Rondeletius, that those Eels that are bred in
rivers that relate to or be nearer to the sea, never return 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 certain that powdered
beef is a most excellent bait to catch an Eel. And though
Sir Francis Bacon will allow the Eel's life to be but ten
years, yet he, in his History of Life and Death, mentions a
Lamprey, belonging to the Roman emperor, to be made
tame, and so kept for almost threescore years ; and that
such useful and pleasant observations were made of this
Lamprey, that Crassus the orator, who kept her, lamented
her death ; and we read in Doctor Hakewill, that Horten-
sius was seen to weep at the death of a Lamprey that he
had kept long, and loved exceedingly.

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 or down, neither in the rivers, nor in the pools in
which they usually are, but get into the soft earth or mud j
and there many of them together bed themselves, and live
without feeding upon anything, as I have told you some
swallows have been observed to do in hollow trees, for those
six cold months. And this the Eel and Swallow do, as not
being able to endure winter weather : for Gesner quotes
Albertus to say, that in the year 1125, that year's winter
being more cold than usually. Eels did, by nature's instinct,
get out of the water into a stack of hay in a meadow upon
dry ground ; and there bedded themselves : but yet, at last,
a frost killed them. And our Camden relates, that, in Lan-
cashire, 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

The FOURTH DAY 235

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 searchers
into the natures of fish observe, that there be several sorts
or kinds of Eels ; as the silver Eel, the 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, diversely bred ; as, namely, out of the corruption of
the earth j and some by dew, and other ways, as I have
said to you : and yet it is affirmed by some for a certain,
that the silver Eel is bred by generation, but not by
spawning 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 testimonies of this,
to doubt the truth of it myself; and if I thought it needful
I might prove it, but I think it is needless.

And this Eel, of which I have said so much to you, may
be caught with divers kinds of baits: as namely, with
powdered beef; with a lob or garden worm ; with a
minnow ; or gut of a hen, chicken, or the guts of any fish,
or with almost anything, for he is a greedy fish. But the
Eel may be caught, especially, 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 finds worms in a dunghill.

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

236 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 aforesaid baits ; and a clod, or plummet, or stone, thrown
into the river with this line, that so you may in the morning
find it near to some fixed 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 sport.

And because you, that are but a young angler, know not
what Snigling is,^^ I will now teach it to you. You re-
member I told 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 as you may conveniently ; and
it is scarce to be doubted, but if there be an Eel within the
sight of it, the Eel will bite instantly, and as certainly gorge
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

Snigling Eels from a bridge.

The FOURTH DAY 239

his tail, break all, unless you give him time to be wearied with
pulling, and so get him out by degrees, not pulling too hard.

And to commute for your patient hearing this long
direction, I shall next tell you, How to make this Eel a
most excellent dish of meat.

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 off, 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 then
with butter ; and having roasted him enough, let what was
put into his belly, and what he drips, be his sauce. S. F.

When I go to dress an Eel thus, I wish he were as long
and as big as that which was caught in Peterborough 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 way, yet it is certain that physicians account the
Eel dangerous meat ; I will advise ydu therefore, as Solo-
mon says of honey, ' Hast thou found it, eat no more than is
sufficient, lest thou surfeit, for it is not good to eat much

240 The COMPLETE ANGLER

honey.' And let me add this, that the uncharitable 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 most other fish, are at set times ; at
least, most Eels are not.

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 high
esteem many of them are for the curiosity of their taste.
But these are not so proper to be talked of by me, because
they make us anglers no sport ; therefore I will let them alone,
as the Jews do, to whom they are forbidden by their law.

And, scholar, there is also a Flounder, a sea-fish which
will wander very far into fresh rivers, and there lose himself
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 to the 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 excellent meat, yet it wants scales,
and is, as I told you, therefore an abomination to the Jews.

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, that is the largest in this nation, being ten miles
in length, and some say as smooth in the bottom as if it
were paved with polished marble. This fish never exceeds

The FOURTH DAY 241

fifteen or sixteen inches in length ; and 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
GuiNiAD ; 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 Chester,
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 Guiniad in the river. And
now my next observation shall be of the Barbel.

o

The FOURTH T>KY— continued
Of the Barbel

CHAPTER XIV

PISCATOR, VENATOR, MILK-WOMAN

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
that I told you of, that does very seldom break his hold
if he be once hooked : but he is so strong, that he will
often break both 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 to
be in season. He is able 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 feed
on gravel, against a rising ground ; and will root and dig

242

The FOURTH DAY 243

in the sands with his nose like a hog, and there nests himself:
yet sometimes he retires to deep and swift 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 summer, when he and most living creatures
sport themselves 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 are quiet
and deeper ; in which places, and I think about that time
he spawns ; and, as I have formerly told you, with the help
of the melter, hides his spawn or eggs 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 by 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 who 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 other-
wise in this nation. But thus far we agree with him, that
the spawn of a Barbel, 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 Gesner and Gasius declare it had an
ill eff'ect upon them, even to the endangering of their lives.

The fish is of a fine cast and handsome shape, with small
scales, which are placed after a most exact and curious manner,
and, as I told you, may be rather said not to be ill, than to
be good meat. The Chub and he have, I think, both lost
part of their credit by ill cookery ; they being reputed the

244 'rhe COMPLETE ANGLER

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 Industrie, .Anlmalium : and also so cunning, 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 ; that is to say, to have 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 specially if, the
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 the
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 too 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, «s
namely, an hour or two, you were still the likelier to catch
fish. Some have directed to cut the cheese into thin pieces,
and toast it; and then tie it on the hook with fine silk.
And some advise to fish for the Barbel with sheep's tallow
and soft cheese, beaten or worked into a paste ; and that it
is choicely good in August : and I believe it. But, doubt-
less, the lob-worm well scoured, and the gentle not too

The FOURTH DAY 245

much scoured, and cheese ordered as I have directed, are
baits enough, and I think will serve in any month : though
I shall commend any angler that tries conclusions, and is
industrious to improve the art. And now, my honest
scholar, the long shower and my tedious discourse are both
ended together : 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 dealt withal ; yet he seldom
or never breaks his hold, if he be once strucken. And if
you would know more of fishing for the Umber or Barbel,
get into favour with Dr. Sheldon,^^ whose skill is above
others ; and of that, the poor that dwell about him 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 ?

Venator. Which you think fit, master.

PiscATOR. Why, you shall take up that ; for I am
certain, by viewing the line, it has a fish at it. Look you,
scholar ! well done ! Come, now take up the other too :
well ! now you may tell my brother Peter, at night, that
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.

Venator. Master, I like your motion very well : and I
think it is now about milking-time ; and yonder they be at it.

Piscator. 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

246

The COMPLETE ANGLER

you and Maudlin a brace of Trouts for supper ; and we will
now taste a draught of your red-cow's milk.

Milk-woman. Marry, and that you shall with all my
heart ; and I will 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 store of them :
Maudlin, my honest Maudlin, hath a notable memory, and'
she thinks nothing too good for you, because you be such
honest men.

Venator. We thank you ; and intend, once in a month
to call upon you again, and give you a little warning ; and
so, good-night. Good-night, Maudlin. And now, good
master, let's lose no time : but tell me somewhat more] of
fishing ; and if you please, first, something of fishing for a
Gudgeon.

PiscATOR. I vvill, honest scholar.

The FOURTH Ti hX— continued
Of the Gudgeon, the Ruffe, and the Bleak

CHAPTER XV

PISCATOR

The Gudgeon is reputed a fish of excellent taste, and
to be very wholesome. He is of a fine shape, 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 commended 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
young angler, being easy to be taken with a small red 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 oiF from the hook if he be once strucken.

They be usually scattered up and down every river in the
shallows, in the heat of summer : but in autumn, when the
weeds begin to grow sour and rot, and the weather colder,
then they gather together, and get into the deeper parts of

248

The FOURTH DAY 249

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
Ruffe ; a fish that is not known to be in some rivers : he
is much like the Perch for his shape, and taken to be
better than the Perch, but virill 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 he, may catch forty
or fifty, or sometimes 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 Bleak, or fresh-water Sprat ; a fish that
is ever in motion, and therefore called by 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 flies, in the air, by
which he lives j so does the Bleak at the top of the water.
Ausonius would have called him Bleak from his whitish
colour : his back is of a pleasant sad or sea-water-green ; his
belly, white and shining as the mountain snow. And
doubtless, though we have 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

250

The COMPLETE ANGLER

fish 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 have 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 ; this
bird-angler standing 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.

And let me tell you, that I have known a Heron, 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 exceeding
two yards.

JiatCs Lk ts Ut va^ J^ i^ ^Udfed ' foj^atk^, {

ca^'^j ^ co/rC ^rnC72ey ^ orxjtiMe^

The FOURTH V> hX— continued
Is of nothings or of nothing worth

CHAPTER XVI

PISCATOR, VENATOR, PETER, CORIDON

PiscATOR. My purpose was to give you some directions
concerning Roach and Dace, and some other inferior fish
which make the angler excellent sport ; for you know there
iimore pleasure in hunting the hare tHanTil

but 1 will torbear, at this time, to'l^^y 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 can then remember, I will not keep it from
you.

251

252 The COMPLETE ANGLER

Well met, gentlemen; this is lucky that we meet so
just together at this very door. Come, hostess, where
are you ? is supper ready ? Come, first give us a drink ; and
he 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 ; an d now meat and
rest will be pleasant.

Pmer. And CuiiJon and I have not had an unpleasant
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 sup per with what haste you m ay : and
'wEeh'wfe'teve supped^let us have your song, Piscator ;
and the catch that your scholar promised us ; or else,
Coridon will be dogged.

Piscator. Nay, I will not be worse than my word ;
you shall not want my song, and I hope I shall be perfect
in it.

Venator. And I hope the Hke for my catch, which I
have ready too : and therefore let *s go merrily to supper,
and then have a-fieniJfe Jpuch at singing jmd drinkipg ; but
^^e last with moderation.

Coridon. Come, now for your song .; for we have fed
heartily. Come, hostess, lay a few more sti cjcs on th e fire.
And now, sing when you will. """^ —

The FOURTH DAY 253

PiscATOR. Well then, here's to you, Coridon ; and now
for my song.

O the gallant Fisher's life.

It is the best of any ;
'Tis full of pleasure, void of strife.
And 'tis beloved of many :

Other joys

Are but toys ;

Only this

Lavvful is ;

For our skill

Breeds no ill.
But content and pleasure.

In 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.

When we please to walk abroad

For our recreation.
In the fields is our abode.
Full of delectation :

Where in a brook

With a hook.

Or a lake.

Fish we take :

There we sit.

For a bit.
Till we fish entangle.

254 The COMPLETE ANGLER

We have gentles in a horn.

We have paste and worms too ;
We can watch both night and mom.
Suffer rain and storms too ;

None do here

Use to swear ;

Oaths do fray

Fish away ;

We sit sti)].

And watch our quill ;
Fishers must not wrangle.

If the sun's excessive heat

Make our bodies swelter,
To an osier hedge we get
For a friendly shelter ;

Where, in a dike.

Perch 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 pillow ;
Where we may
Think and pray
Before death
Stops our breath.
Other joys
Are but toys.
And to be lamented.

Jo. Chalkhill.

Venator. Well sung, master; this day's fortune and

The FOURTH DAY 255

pleasure, and the night's company .and song, do 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 talking with
me that he might be so perfect in this song ; was it not,
master ?

PisCATOR. Yes indeed, for it is many years since I
learned it ; and having forgotten a part of it, I was
forced to patch it up with the help of mine own inven-
tion, who am not excellent at poetry, as my part of
the song may testify ; but of that I will say no rtiore,
lest you should think I mean, by discommending it, to beg
your commendations of it. And therefore, without repli-
cations, 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.

Venator. Marry, and that you shall ; and as freely as
I would have my honest master tell me some more secrets
of fish 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 say-that he had at this time many law-suits

up so much ot Tnrtime and thoughts, that he himself had
not leisure to take the sweet content that I, who pre-
tended no title to them, took in his fields : for I 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

256 The COMPLETE ANGLER

behold them spotted with woods and groves ; looking down
the meadows, could see, here a boy gathering lilies and
lady-smocks, and there a girl cropping culverkeys and
cowslips, all to make garlands suitable to this present 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
fi-om 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 said, that the_^eek possess jthe earth ; or rather,
they enjoy what the others possess, and enjoy not ; for
anglers and meek quiet-spirited men are freg, from those
high, those restless thoughts^ which corrode the sweets of
_Jife ; and they, and they only, can say, as the poet has
happily exprest it.

Hail ! blest estate of lowliness ;

Happy enjoyments of such minds
As, 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 humble mind : they
were written by Phineas Fletcher,^* an excellent 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.

')-

TAere a girl cropping culverkeys and cowslips.

The FOURTH DAY 259

No empty hopes, no courtly fears him fright ;
No begging wants his middle fortune bite :
But sweet content exiles both misery and spite.

His certain life, that never can deceive him.

Is full of thousand sweets, and rich content ;
The smooth-leav'd beeches in the field receive him,
With coolest shade, till noon-tide's heat be spent.
His life is neither tost in boisterous 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 by his side his faithful spouse has place ;

His little son into his bosom creeps.
The lively picture of his father's face.

His humble house or poor state ne'er torment him ;

Less he could Kke, 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 thoughts that then
possessed me. And I there made a conversion of a piece of
an old catch, and added more to it, fitting them to be sung
by us anglers. Come, Master, you can sing well : you
must sing a part of it, as it is in this paper.

Man's life is but vain ; for 'tis subject to pain.

And sorrow, and short as a bubble;
'Tis a hodge-podge of business, and money, and care.

And care, and money, and trouble.

But we '11 take no care when the weather proves fair ;

Nor will we vex now though it rain ;
We '11 banish all sorrow, and sing till to-morfow.

And angle, and angle again. \

26o

The COMPLETE ANGLER

The ANGLER'S SONG

A. 2 yoc.

Cantos,

Set iy Mr. H. Lames.

fe^

^

3

Man's life is but vain ; for 'tis

^^

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tTTTi^

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Ei

care, And care, and mo ■ ney, and trou - ble.

i

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But we 'II take no care when the wea - ther proves

b p r~ =?E

fair; Nor will we vex now though it rain: We'll

J I J I J.

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i

ban - iah all sor - row, and sing till to - mor - row. And

^^

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an • gle, and an - gle

3Z

gain.

The FOURTH DAY

261

rhe ANGLER'S SONG

A. 2 Voc.

Set by Mr. H. Lowes.

Bassus. ^ ^i^

i

Man's life is but vain ; For 'tis

<«— * *.

Ei

-r—j

m

g

sub - ject to paini And sor - row, and short

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f& rr J i^p^ H I r ^-"^

care, And care, and mo • ney, and trou - ble.

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But we 'U take no care when the wea - ther proves

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fair 5 Nor will we vex now though it rain j We '11

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ban - ish all sor - row, and sing till to - mor - row, And

an - gle, and an - gle

gain.

262 The COMPLETE ANGLER

Peter. I marry, Sir, this is musick indeed ; this has
cheer'd my heart, and made me remember six verses in
praise of musick, which I will speak to you instantly.

Musick ! miraculous rhetorick, thou speak'st sense

Without a tongue, excelling eloquence ;

With what ease might thy errors be excus'd,

Wert thou as truly lov'd as th' art abusM !

But though dull souls neglect, and some reprove thee,

I cannot hate thee, 'cause the Angels love thee.

Venator. And the repetition of these last verses of
musick has called to my memory what Mr. Edmund
Waller, a lover of the angle, says of love and musick.

Whilst I listen to thy voice,

Chloris ! I feel ray heart decay ;

That powerfiil voice

Calls my fleeting soul away :
Oh ! suppress that magic sound.
Which destroys without a wound.

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.

PiscATOR. Well remembered, brother Peter ; these
verses came seasonably, and we thank you heartily. Come,
we will all join together, my host and all, and sing my
scholar's catch over again ; and then each man drink the
tother cup, and to bed ; and thank God we have a dry
house over ourhgads., "

FiscATOR. Well, now, good-night to everybody.

Peter. And so say L

Venator. And so say L

CoRiDON. Good-night to you all ; and I thank you.

The FIFTH DAY

PiscATOR. 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, so that my hostess may not have
occasion to repent herself of being so diligent, and using us
so kindly.

Peter. The motion is liked by everybody, and so,
hostess, here 's your money : we anglers are all beholden to
you ; it will not be long ere I '11 see you again ; and now,
brother Piscator, I wish you, and my brother your scholar,
a fair day and good fortune. Come, Coridon, this is our
way.

286

rhe FIFTH Vi KX— continued
Of Roach and Dace

CHAPTER XVII

VENATOR AND PISCATOR

Venator. Good master, as we go now towards London,
be still so courteous as to give me more instructions ;
for I have several boxes in my memory, in which I will
keep them all very safe, there shall not one of them be lost.

PiscATOR. 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 directions con-
cerning 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

268 The COMPLETE ANGLER

notice, that as the Carp is accounted the water-fox, for his
cunning ; so the Roach is accounted the water-sheep, for
his simplicity or foolishness. It is noted, that the Roach
and Dace recover strength, and grow in season in a fort-
night 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 fresh water.

Roaches he 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 beyond 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 excellent sport, especially the great Roaches
about London, where I think there be the best Roach-
anglers. And I think the best Trout-anglers be in Derby-
shire ; for the waters there are clear to an extremity.

Next, let me tell you, you shall fish for this Roach 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

The FIFTH DAY 269

piles or posts of a bridge, or near to any posts of a weir,
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 with 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 labour, 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 and the Dace or Dare ;
for they be much of a kind, in manner of feeding, cunning,
goodness, and usually in size. And therefore take this
general direction, for some other baits which may concern
you to take notice of : they will bite almost at any fly, but
especially at ant-flies ; concerning which take this direction,
for it is very good.

Take the blackish ant-fly out of the mole-hill 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

^^Q The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 bruis-
ing, will live there a month or more, and be always in
readiness for you to 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-bait 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 greenswards, 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 counties, 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 a red and
then a black beetle. Gather a thousand or two of these,
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,

Follow the plough, and you shall find a white ivorm.

The FIFTH DAY 273

a day before you use them, you will find them an ex-
cellent 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 better
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, they will fall into
the barrel and scour themselves, 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 gentles to fish with all the year, then get a dead cat,
or a kite, and let it be fly-blown ; and when the gentles
begin 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 intend 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 you 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 betwixt 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 husk ofi^

274 The COMPLETE ANGLER

from it, and yet leaving a kind of inward husk on the corn,
or else it is marr'd ; and then cut oiF that sprouted end, I
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
cutting oiF 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
summer, 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 into such pieces as may best fit the size
of your hook ; and a little salt keeps it from growing black,
and makes it not the 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
I 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 receiv'd, and us'd, with great confidence ; and
yet, upon inquiry, I foimd it did not answer the expecta-
tion of Sir Henry ; which, with the help of this and other
circumstances, makes me have little belief in such things as
many men talk of. Not but that I think that 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 is not attainable by

Mr. John Stubs' sliof.

The FIFTH DAY 277

common capacities, or else lies locked up in the brain or
breast of some chemical man, that, like, the Rosicrucians,
will not yet reveal it. Bu^ let me nevertheless tell you, that
camphire, put with moss into your worm-bag with your
worms, makes them, if many anglers be not very much
mistaken, a tempting bait, and the angler more fortunate.
But I stepped by chance into this discourse of oils, and
fishes smelling ; and though there might be more said, both
of it and of baits for Roach and Dace and other float-fish,
yet I will forbear it at this time, and tell you, in the next
place, how you are to prepare your tackling : concerning
which, I will, for sport sake, give you an old rhyme out of
an old fish book ; which will prove a part, and but a part,
of what you are to provide.

My rod and my line, my float and my lead.

My hook and my plummet, my whetstone and knife,

My basket, my baits, both living and dead.
My net, and my meat, for that is the chief:

Then I must have thread, and hairs green and small.

With mine angling purse : and so you have all.

But you must have all these tackling, and twice so many
more, with which, if you mean to be a fisher, you must
store yourself; and to that purpose I will go with you,
either to Mr. Margrave, who dwells amongst the book-
sellers in St. Paul's Church-yard, or to Mr. John Stubs,
near to the Swan in Golding-lane : they be both honest
men, and will fit an angler with what tackling he lacks.

Venator. Then, good master, let it be at for

he is nearest to my dwelling. And I pray let 's meet there
the ninth of May next, about two of the clock ; and I '11
want nothing that a fisher should be furnished with.

278 The COMPLETE ANGLER

PiscATOR. Well, and I '11 not fail you, God willing, at
the time and place appointed.

Venator. I thank you, good master, and 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
Tottenham-High-Cross ; and when we come thither I will
make you some requital of your pains, by repeating as
choice a copy of Verses as any we have heard since we met
together ; and that is a proud word, for we have heard very
good ones.

Piscator. Well, scholar, and I shall be then right glad
to hear them. And I will, as we walk, tell you whatso-
ever 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 biggest 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,
especially for Roach, Dace, Chub, or Grayling : I know
not but that it may be as good for a river Carp, and
especially if the ground be a little baited with it.

And you may also note, that the spawn of most fish 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 : with these many have been taken in ponds, and
in some rivers where such trees have grown near the water,
and the fruit customarily dropt into it. And there be a
hundred other baits, more than can be well named, which,
by constant baiting the water, will become a tempting bait
for any fish in it.

'^'^^f ^ '

■r-A;

Mr. Margrave's shop.

The FIFTH DAY 281

You are also to know, that there be divers kinds of
Cadis, or Case-worms, that are to be found in this nation,
in several distinct counties, and in several little brooks that
relate to bigger 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 Chavender, 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 wondered 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 inter-
weaving and connection as the like is not to be done by
the art of 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 Straw-
worm, and by some a RufF-coat, whose house, or case, is
made of little pieces of bents, and rushes, and straws, and
water-weeds, and I know not what ; which are so knit
together with condensed slime, that they stick about her
husk or case, not unlike the bristles of a hedge-hog. These
three cadises are commonly taken in the beginning of
summer j and are good, indeed, to take any kind of fish,
with float or otherwise. I might tell you of many more,

282 The COMPLETE ANGLER

which as they do early, so those have their time also of
turning to be flies in later summer ; but I might lose my-
self, and tire you, by such a discourse : I shall therefore
but remember you, that to know these, and their several
kinds, and to what flies every particular cadis turns, and
then how to use them, first, as they be cadis, and after as
they be flies, is an art, and an art that every one that pro-
fesses to be an angler has not leisure to search after, and,
if he had, is not capable of learning.

I '11 tell you, scholar ; several countries have several kinds
of cadises, that indeed differ as much as dogs do ; that is
to say, as much as a very cur and a greyhound do. These
be usually bred in the very little rills, or ditches, 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 receives hfe, 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 yellow
cadis : pull off his head, and with 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 very 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 that the bait first touch the water before the
line. And this will do best in the deepest stillest water.

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

The FIFTH DAY

283

of their composure : and if you should ever like to do so,
then note, that your stick must be a little hazel, or willow,
cleft, or have a nick at one end of it, by which means you
may, with ease, take many of them in that nick out of the
water, before you 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 observation, and
practice, and an ambition to be the best in the art, that
must do it. I will tell you, scholar, I once heard one say,
' I envy not him that eats better meat than I do ; nor him
that is richer, or that wears better clothes than 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 j
and this noble emulation I wish to you, and all young
anglers.

T"/^^ FIFTH Y>hY— continued

Of the Minnow, or Penk ; Loach ; Bull-Head, or
Miller s-Thumb : and the Stickle-bag

CHAPTER XVIII

PISCATOR AND VENATOR

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 'tis 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 its sides,
inclining to a greenish or 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

281

The FIFTH DAY 285

excellent sport for young anglers, or boys, or women that
love that recreation. And in the spring they make of
them excellent Minnow-tansies ; for being washed well in
salt, and their heads and tails cut off, and their guts taken
out, and not washed after, they prove excellent for that
use ; that is, being fried with yolk of eggs, the flowers of
cowslips and of primroses, and a little tansy ; thus used
they make a dainty dish of meat.

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. The Loach 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 barbel-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, much 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 fins also
under the belly ; two on the back ; one below the vent ;

286 The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 the summer, I
mean the females ; 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, as the Eel doth ; or we know not where,
no more than we know where the cuckoo and swallow,
and other half-year birds, which first appear to us in April,
spend their six cold, winter, melanch oly mont hs. This
Bull-head does usually dwell, and hide himself, in holes,
or amongst stones in clear water ; and in very hot days
will lie a long 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 unto his very mouth : and
he never refuses to bite, nor indeed to be caught with the
worst of anglers. Matthiolus commends him much more
for his taste and nourishment, than for his shape or beauty.
There is also a little fish called a Sticklebag, 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
wind-mill, will make him turn more quick than any Penk
or Minnow can. For note, that the nimble turning of
that, or the Minhow, is the perfection of Minnow-fishing.
To which end, if you put your hook into his mouth, and

The FIFTH DAY

287

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 does 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 straight on your hook, until it
will turn both true and fast ; and then doubt not but to
tempt any great Trout that lies in a swift stream. And
the Loach that I told you of will do the like : no bait is
more tempting, provided 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 aiFord me, concerning most of the^several fish
that are usually fished for in fresh waters.

Venator. But, master, you have by your former civility
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 dis-
course of rivers, and fish and fishing ; the time spent in
such discourse passes away very pleasantly.

^^-Q-.Q^^^^Ql^^Q<;i9-QQc^^

The FIFTH T>KY— continued
Of Rivers, and some Observations of Fish '

CHAPTER XIX

PISCATOR

Well, scholar, since the ways and weather do both favour
us, and that we yet see not Tottenham-Cross, you shall see
my willingness to satisfy your desire. And, first, for the
rivers of this nation : there be, as you may note out of Dr.
Heylin's Geography, and others, in number three hundred
and twenty-five ; but those of chiefest note he reckons and
describes as followeth.

The chief is Thamisis, compounded of two rivers,
Thame and Isis ; whereof the former, rising somewhat
beyond Thame in Buckinghamshire, and the latter near
Cirencester in Gloucestershire, meet together about Dor-
chester in Oxfordshire ; the issue of which happy con-
junction is Thamisis, or Thames ; hence it flieth betwixt
Berks, Buckinghamshire, Middlesex, Surrey, Kent, and
Essex : and so weddeth itself to the Kentish Medway, in

The FIFTH DAY 289

the very jaws of the ocean. This glorious river feeleth the
violence and benefit of the sea more than any river in
Europe ; ebbing 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 :

Tof campos, &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 Plinilimmon-hill, in Montgomery-
shire ; and his end seven miles from Bristol ; washing,
in the mean space, the walls of Shrewsbury, Wor-
cester, and Gloucester, and divers other places and palaces
of note.

3. Trent, so called from thirty kind of fishes that are
found in it, or for that it receiveth thirty lesser rivers ; who
having his fountain in Staffordshire, and gliding through
the counties of Nottingham, Lincoln, Leicester, and York,
augmenteth the turbulent current of Humber, the most
violent stream of all the isle. This Humber is not, to say
truth, a distinct river having a spring-head of his own, but
it is rather the mouth or astuarium of divers rivers here
confluent and meeting together, namely, your Derwent,
and especially of Ouse and Trent ; and, as the Danow,
having 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. Medway, a Kentish river, famous for harbouring the
royal navy.

290 The COMPLETE ANGLER

5. Tweed, the north-east bound of England ; on whose
northern banks is seated the strong and impregnable town
of Berwick.

6. Tyne, famous for Newcastle, and her inexhaustible
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 prais'd ;
The crystal Trent, for fords and fish renown'd ;

And Avon's fame to Albion's cliffs is rais'd.

Carlegion Chester vaunts her holy Dee ;

York many wonders of her Ouse can tell ;
The Peak, her Dove, whose banks so fertile be.

And Kent will say her Medway doth excel :

Cotswold commends her Isis to the Tame ;

Our northern borders boast of Tweed's fair flood ;
Our Western parts extol their Willy's fame.

And the old Lea brags of the Danish blood.

These observations are out of learned Dr. Heylin, and
my old deceased friend, Michael Drayton ; and because
you say you love such discourses as these, of rivers, and
fish, and fishing, I love you the better, and love the more to
impart them to you. Nevertheless, scholar, if I should
begin but to name the several sorts of strange fish that are
usually taken in many of those rivers that run into the sea,
I might beget wonder in you, or unbelief, or both : and yet I
will 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 communicate it ; one
that loves me and my art ; one to whom I have been

The FIFTH DAY 293

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 had lately dissected one strange fish, and he thus de-
scribed it to me :

'This fish was almost a yard broad, and twice that
length ; his mouth wide enough to receive, or take into it,
the head of a man ; his stomach, seven or eight 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 wonder at this ; for besides the
credit of the relator, you 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
Nilus 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 the 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 Sopham, and others,
have observed.

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 Pilchers

294

The COMPLETE ANGLER

so very plentiful, as you will wonder to read what our
learned Camden relates of them in his Britannia.

Well, scholar, I will stop here, and tell you what by
reading and conference I have observed concerning fish-
ponds.

The FIFTH T> KY —continued
Of Fish-Ponds

CHAPTER XX

PISCATOR

Doctor Lebault, the learned Frenchman, in his large
discourse of Maison Rustique, gives this direction for making
of fish-ponds. I shall refer you to him, to read it at large :
but I think I shall contract it, and yet make it as useful.

He adviseth, that when you have drained the ground, and
made the earth firm where the head of the pond must be,
that you must then, in that place, drive in two or three
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 thus used, it preserves them much longer from
rotting. And having done so, lay faggots or bavins of
smaller 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-
gate, or the vent that you intend shall convey the over-

295

296 The COMPLETE ANGLER

fiowings of your pond in any flood that shall endanger the
breaking of your pond-dam.

Then he advises, that you plant willows or owlers, about
it, or both : and then cast in bavins, in some places not far
from the side, and in the most sandy places, for fish both to
spawn upon, and to defend them and the young fry from
the many fish, and also from vermin, that lie at watch to
destroy them, especially the spawn of the Carp and Tench,
when 'tis left to the mercy of ducks or vermin.

He, 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, running or
falling into it ; by which fish are more inclined both to
breed, and are also refreshed and fed the better, and do prove
to be of a much sweeter and more pleasant taste.

To which end it is observed, that such pools as be krge
and have most gravel, and shallows where fish may sport
themselves, do afford fish of the purest taste. And note,
that in all 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 heat of summer ; as also from the extremity of
cold in winter. And note, that if many trees be growing
about your pond, the leaves thereof falling into the 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, can-

The FIFTH DAY 297

docks, reate, and bulrushes, that breed there ; and also that
as these die for want of water, so grass may grow in the
pond's bottom, 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 of fish either increases or thrives best in that
water ; for they differ much, both in their breeding and
feeding.

Lebault also advises, that if your ponds be not very large
and roomy, that you often feed your fish, by throwing into
them chippings of bread, curds, grains, or the entrails of
chickens or of any fowl or beast that you kill to feed your-
selves ; for these afford fish a great relief. He says, that
frogs and ducks do much harm, and devour both the spawn
and the young fry of all fish, especially of the Carp ; and I
have, besides experience, many testimonies of it. But
Lebault allows water-frogs to be good meat, especially in
some months, if they be fat : but you are to note, that he is
a Frenchman ; and we English will hardly believe him,
though we know frogs are usually eaten in his country :
however he advises to destroy them and king-fishers out of
your ponds. And he advises not to suffer much shooting
at wild fowl ; for that, he says, affrightens, 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 j 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

298

The COMPLETE ANGLER

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 female Carps.

It is observed that the best ponds to breed Carps are
those that be stony or sandy, and are warm, and free from
wind; and that are not deep, but have willow-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 fall of mud and weeds.

Well, Scholar, I have told you the substance of all that
either observation or discourse, or a diligent survey 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 there-
fore put an end to this discourse ; and we will here sit down
and rest us.

-^azr^^ r^^'

The FIFTH T>KY— continued

CHAPTER XXI

PISCATOR AND VENATOR

PiscATOR. Well, Scholar, I have held you too long about
these cadis, and smaller fish, and rivers, and fish-ponds j 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 right-grown top
is a choice commodity, and should be preserved from the
water soaking into it, which makes it in wet weather 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

300 The COMPLETE ANGLER

worth preserving, or I had not taken care to keep a top
above twenty years.

But first for your Line. First note, that you are to take
care that your hair be round and clear, and 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 uneven-
ness. 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.

And for dyeing of your hairs, do it thus : take a pint of
strong ale, half a pound of soot, and a little quantity of the
juice of walnut-tree leaves, and an equal quantity of alum :
put these together into a pot, pan, or pipkin, and boil them
half an hour ; and having so done, let it cool j and being

The FIFTH DAY 301

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 little 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 alum ; 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 marigolds, 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 yellow ; 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 greener it will be ; but doubt-
less the pale green is best. But if you desire yellow hair,
which is only good when the weeds rot, then put in more
marigolds ; and abate most of the copperas, or leave it quite
out, and take a little verdigris instead of it.

This for colouring your hair.

And as for painting your 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 the wood with a bristle,
or a brush or pencil, whilst it is hot : that being quite dry,

302 The COMPLETE ANGLER

take white-lead, and a little red-lead, and a little coal-black,
so much as altogether will make an ash-colour : grind these
altogether with linseed-oil ; let it be thick, and lay it thin
upon the wood with a brush or pencil : this do for the
ground of any colour to lie upon wood.

For a green, take pink and verdigris, 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 honey-
suckle hedge, mention to you some of the thoughts and joys
that have possessed my soul since we two met together.
And these thoughts shall be told you, that you also may
join with me in thankfulness to the Giver of every good
and perfect gift, for our happiness. And that our present
happiness may appear to be the greater, and we the more
thankful for it, I will beg you to consider with me how
many do, even 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 or broken limbs ; some
have been blasted, others thunder-strucken : and we have
been freed from these, and all those many other miseries
that threaten human nature ; let us therefore rejoice and be
thankful. Nay, which is a far greater mercy, we are free
from the insupportable burthen of an accusing tormenting
conscience ; a misery that none can bear : and therefore let

The FIFTH DAY 303

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 that have forty times our estates, that would ]
give the greatest part of it to be healthful and cheerful like
us, who, with the expense of a little money, have eat and
drunk, and laughed, and angled, and sung, and slept
securely ; and rose next day and cast away care, and sung,
and laughed, 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 laugh ; 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 of them.' And yet
God deliver us from pinc hing p overty ; and grant, that
having a competency, we may Tae conte nt and thankful .
Let not us repine, or so much as 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
silk-worm, that, when she seems to play, is, at the very
same time, spinning her own bowels, and consuming her-
self; and this many rich men do, loading themselves
with corroding cares, to keep what they have, probably,
unconscionably got. Let us, therefore, be thankful for

304 The COMPLETE ANGLER

health and a competence ; and above all, for a quiet_con-
sci^rcej:

-,et 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 gimcracks ; and, having
observed them, and all the other finnimbruns that make a
complete country-fair, he said to his friend, 'Lord, how
many things are there in this world of 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 m;^ke his life happy ? No, doubt-
less ; for nature is content with a little. And yet you
shall hardly 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 neighbour, for not
worshipping, or not flattering him : and thus, when we
might be happy and quiet, we create trouble to ourselves.
1 1 have heard of a man that was angry with himself because
1 he was no taller ; and of a woman that broke her looking-
Iglass because it would not shew her face to be as young
land handsome 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 engaged her husband
into a contention for it, and at last into a law-suit with a
dogged neighbour who was as rich as he, and had a wife as
peevish and purse-proud as the other : and this law-suit
begot higher oppositions, and actionable words, and more

The FIFTH DAY 305

vexations and law-suits ; for you must remember that both
were rich, and must therefore have their wills. Well ! this
wilful, purse-proud law-suit lasted during the life of the
first husband ; after which his wife vext and chid, and chid
and vext, till she also chid and vext herself into her grave :
and so the wealth of these poor rich people was curst into
a punishment, because they wanted meek and thankful
hearts ; for those only can make us happy. I knew a man
that had health and riches ; and several houses, all beautiful,
and ready furnished ; and would often trouble himself and
femily 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, tol3'
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 Saviour 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 meantime, he, and he only, possesses the earth, as
he goes towards that kingdom of heaven, by being humble
and cheerful, and content with what his good Grod had
allotted him. He has 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 what he has

3o6 The COMPLETE ANGLER

with a meek and contented quietness, such a quietness
as niaEes his very dreams pleasing, both to God and
himself.

My honest Scholar, all this is told to incline you to

^ i nl ' fi iln m : nn d tn incline you the more, let me tell you,
and though the pr ophet David was gu ilty of murder j nd
ad ultery, and man y nfjicr of the most-deadlyi jins, y et he
was said to 1)6 a man after God's own heart, because he
abounded more with tjiankfylaess than any other that is
mentioned in holy scripture, as may appear in his book -of
Psalms ; where there is such a commixture, of his, confessing
of his sins and unworthiness, and such thankfulness for
God's pardon and mercies, as did make him to be accounted,
even by God himself, to be a man after his own heart : and

\let us, in that, labour to be as like him as we 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 innocent 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 together ? 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, fix 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, we enjoy daily. And for most of
them, because they be so common, most men forget to pay

The FIFTH DAY 307

their praises : but let not us ; because it is a sacrifice so
pleasing to Him that made that sun and us, and still pro-
tects 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 I now see Tottenham
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 I labour to pos-
sess my own soul ; that is, a meek and thankful heart.
And to that end I have shewed you, that riches withoirt-
them, 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 endeavour to be honestly
rich, or contentedly poor : but be sure that your riches be
justly got, or you spoil all. For it is well said by Caussin,**
' He that loses his conscience has nothing left that is worth
keeping.' Theretofe be sare-you look to that. And, in
the next place, look to your lie alth : 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 j
a blessing that money cannot buy j and therefore value it
and be thankful for it. As for money, whic h 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 ajneek, cheerful,
thankful heart. I will tell you, Scholar, fhave Tieard a
grave Divine say, that God has two dwellings j one in
heaven, and the other in a meek and thankful Tieart ; which
Almighty God grant to me, and to my honest Scholar.
And so you are welcome to Tottenham High-Cross.

3o8 The COMPLETE ANGLER

Venator, Well, Master, I thank you for all your good
directions ; but for none more than this last, of thankful-
ness, which I hope I shall never forget. And pray let 's
riftw '•''°'' '-m** '' ^"' ' '- w a-fliij; «vppt shady arbour, which nature
herself has woven with her own hne fingers; 'tis such a
contexture of woodbines, sweetbriar, jasmine, and myrtle ;
and so interwoven, as will secure us both from the sun's
violent heat, and from the approaching shower. And being
set down, I will requite ^ part of your courtesies with a
bottle of sack, milk, oranges, and sugar, which, all put
together, make a drink like nectar ; indeed, too good for
any 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 I promised you : it is a Copy
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 recreations as I have enjoyed since I had the
happiness to fall into your company.

Quivering fears, heart-tearing cares.
Anxious sighs, untimely tears.

Fly, fly to courts.

Fly to fond worldlings' sports.
Where strain'd sardonic smiles are glosing still.
And Grief is forc'd to laugh against her will :

Where mirth 's but mummery.

And sorrows only real be.

Fly from our country pastimes, fly.
Sad troops of human misery.

Come, serene looks.

Clear as the crystal brooks.

\w

A«4«M% w>v

f

J )

Let 's now rest ourselves in this sweet shady arbour.

The FIFTH DAY , 311

Or the pure azur'd heaven that smiles to see
The rich attendance of our poverty :

Peace and a secure mind.

Which all men seek, we only find.

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 may^shake,
But blust'ring care could never tempest make.

Nor murmurs e'er come nigh us.

Saving of fountains that glide by us.

Here 's no fantastick mask, nor dance.
But of our kids that frisk and prance 5

Nor wars are seen

Unless upon the green
Two harmless lambs are butting one the other.
Which done, both bleating run, each to his mother ;

And wounds are never found.

Save what the plough-share gives the ground.

Here are no false entrapping baits,
To hasten too, too hasty Fates,

Unless it be

The fond credulity
Of silly fish, which worldling like, still look
Upon the bait, but never on the hook ;

Nor envy, unless among

The birds, for prize of their sweet song.

Go, let the diving negro seek

For gems, hid in some forlorn creek :

We all pearls scorn,

Save what the dewy mom
Congeals upon each little spire of grass.
Which careless shepherds beat down as they pass :

And gold ne'er here appears.

Save what the yellow Ceres bears.

312 The COMPLETE ANGLER

Blest silent groves, oh may ye be,
For ever, mirth's best nursery !

May pure contents

For ever pitch their tents
Upon these clowns, these meads, these rocks, these mountains.
And peace still slumber by these purling fountains :

Which vye may, every year,

Meet when we come a-fishing here.

PiscATOR. 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 I will requite you with another very good copy : it is
a farewe ll t" thp vaniti es nf the wnrjd j and some say
written by Sir Harr y Wo tton, who I told you was an
excellent angler. But let them be writ by whom they
will, he that writ them had a brave soul, and must needs
be possest with happy thoughts at the time of their
composure.

Farewell, ye gilded follies, pleasing troubles ;

Farewell, ye honour'd rags, ye glorious bubbles ;

Fame 's but a hollow echo ; Gold, pure 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-bom minds ; embroider'd Trains,

Merely but pageants for proud swelling veins ;

And Blood allied to greatness is alone

Inherited, not purchas'd, 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

The FIFTH DAY 313

I would be rich, but see men, too unkind.

Dig in the bowels of the richest mind :

I 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 ; scom'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 '11 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

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 rhymes of every poetaster ?

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.

Welcome, pure thoughts ; welcome, ye silent groves ;
These guests, these courts, my soul most dearly loves.
Now the wing'd people of the sky shall sing
My cheerful anthems to the gladsome spring :
A pray'r-book, now, shall be my looking-glass.
In which I 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 I 'II sit, and sigh my hot love's folly,
And learn t' affect an holyjnelancholy :

And It contentment be a stranger then,

I '11 ne'er look for it, but in heaven, again.

314 The COMPLETE ANGLER

Venator. 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, commemorates the kindness of his friend
Verecundus, for lending him and his companion a country
house, because 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 j for, indeed, your
company and discourse have been so useful and pleasant,
that, I may truly say, I have only lived since I enjoyed
them and turned angler, and not before. Nevertheless,
here I must 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 nintl Lof May j _ for then I hope again to enjoy your
beloved companyj at the appointed time and place. And
now I wish for some somniferous potion, that might force
me to 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 Master, 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 philosophy by their virtuous
lives. You advised me to the like concerning Angling, and
I will endeavour to do so; and to live like those many
worthy men, of which you made mention in the former
part of your discourse. This is my firm resolution. And
as a pious man advised his friend, that, to beget mortifica-
tion, he should frequent churches, and view monuments,
and. charnel-houses, and then and there consider how many

The FIFTH DAY

315

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. glidLng-Streajn, and th£{;e
cpiUeropIate the lilies that take no care,, and those very
many other various Tittle living creatures that are not only
created, but fed, man knows not how, by the goodness of
the God of Nature, and therefore trust in him. This is
my purpose ; and so, let everything that hath breath praise
the Lord : and let the blessing of St. Peter's Master be with
mine.

PiscATOR. And upon all that are lovers of virtue ; and
dare trust in his providence; and be quiet; and go a
Angling.

' Study to be quiet.'

NOTES

1 One John OfBey proves the will of Agnes Walton, of the parish of
Madeley. (Nicolas.)

2 Walton had a ' cousin Roe,' to whom he gave a copy of his Li'ves.

3 Sadler, of Standon, in Herts. He was of the family of Sadler,
the English Ambassador to Scotland in the time of Henry vm. Scott
edited the Sadler Papers.

* Sandys is the translator of Ovid. His Tra'vels were published in
1615. He died in 1643.

8 ' Fulimart' = Scots 'foumart ' J a polecat.

8 Dr. Wharton. Born 1614, died 1673.

^ Virgil's tomb is at Naples, not Rome.

8 ' Theobald's.' Twelve miles from London, near the road to Ware.
Sir William Cecil, in 1566, built this house. James i. and vi. died
there in 1625. The Prince of Orange gave the place to the Duke of
Portland in 1689.

' ' Dr. Casaubon.' This is Meric Casaubon, son of Isaac.
1" Tradescant. The third of a family of gardeners to the King.

11 Elias Ashmole was Windsor Herald. He founded the Ashmolean
at Oxford.

12 Gesner: bom at Zurich, 1516. Rondelet: bom at Montpelier,
1507. Ausonius: Latin poet of fourth century a.d. Du Bartas: his
Dkiine Works and Weeks were popular (Paris, 1578, 4to).

13 ^lian. A writer under Hadrian. He is the first to mention
fishing with the artificial May-fly, in Illyria.

1* Mendez Pinto. Bom about 1510. He had countless adventures
as a voyager and captive. Walton read him in a translation by Henry
Cogan, London, 1633. Among Royal Anglers I find Prince Charles
(1752), who spells 'hooks' 'hocks,' in a note at Windsor Castle.

817

3i8 The COMPLETE ANGLER

^5 Perkins and Whitaker were divines of the period. Powell wrote
a catechism, but not the familiar brief one.

w Davors. The Secrets of Angling is entered (1612) as by John
Dennys, in the books of the Stationers' Company.

1' ' March, April, and May.' Salmon, of course, spawn in October —
December. The spring fish do not come up to spawn.

18 Mercator, Gerard, died 1594. He was a theologian and mathe-
matician.

w 'Albertus,' that is, Albertus Magnus, Bishop of Ratisbon. He
wrote De Secretis; died, with a repute for magic, in 1280.

20 ' The Milk-maid's Song ' is assigned to Marlowe in England s
Helicon, printed in 1600, seven years after Marlowe's death.

21 Chalkhill. See Introduction for an account of this poet.

22 Aldrovandus. A philosopher of Bologna, died j 640.

23 Lessius. Bom 1554; died 1623. He was a professor in Louvain;
a Jesuit divine.

2* 'Dr. Boteler,' believed to be Dr. Butler, of Cambridge (1535-
1618).

25 ' Shawford-brook.' This runs through Walton's lands in Stafford-
shire, bequeathed by him to the poor.

2s Gusman. By George Fidge, London, 1652. James Hind, a
Royalist butcher, who fought at Worcester, was the original 'English
Gusman.'

2' 'Frank Davison.' A son of Queen Elizabeth's luckless secretary,,
on whom she tried to throw the odium of Queen Mary's murder.

28 Caspar Peucerus. Born 1525, died 1602. A mathematician.
Walton might have turned to Herodotus, Pausanias, Petronius Arbiter,
and others for his were-wolves.

29 'Hakewill's Afokgy.' Hakewill was Rector of Exeter College,
Oxford; his book appeared in 1635.

^ ' Salvian.' Hippolito Salviani wrote De Piscibus ; died at Rome in
1572.

31 Michael Drayton. Bom 1563, died 1631.

32 Dubravius. Janus Dubravius Scala, Bishop of Olmutz. His
works were published in 1559.

33 Cardanus. A famous physician and psychical researcher. Died at
Rome, 1576. The book cited is his De Subtilitate.

34 'A person of honour, Mr. Fr. Ru.' Believed to be a Francis
Rufford, of Sapy, who died about 1678.

NOTES

319

'' 'What snigling is.' Sniggling now means catching salmon by
raking a large hook or triangle of hooks into the fish. It is a common
kind of poaching in Selkirkshire and the Border.

38 Sheldon, Warden of All Souls. At the Restoration, Archbishop
of Canterbury. He founded the Sheldonian at Oxford. Died 1677.

3' ' Shovel-board.' A game like Squalls, or Croquignole, played by
pushing a smooth coin to a point on a board; a parlour form of
curling.

38 Phineas Fletcher. Author of The Purple Island, printed in 1633.

39 Caussin. Of Troyes in Champagne. Wrote The Holy Court.
Died 1 651.