The complete angler, or The contemplative man's recreation

LIBRARY

UN4VERSJTY Of
CALIPORNJA

THE COMPLETE ANGLER

Izaak Walton hallows any page in which his reverend
name appears.— CHARLES LAMB.

THE

COMPLETE ANGLER

OR THE

CONTEMPLATIVE MAN'S RECREATION

OF

IZAAK WALTON

IBUtteU, foitf) an EntroUuctton
BY EDWARD GILPIN JOHNSON

CHICAGO

A. C. McCLURG AND COMPANY
1893

COPYRIGHT

BY A. C. MCCLURG AND CO.
A.D. 1892

s

PREFACE.

/CHARLES LAMB, in commending to Cole-
v-' ridge "The Complete Angler," added,
" All the scientific part you may omit in read-
ing; " and it is chiefly for those who, like Lamb,
value Walton for his literary quality rather than
his piscatorial lore, that this edition of his master-
piece is intended. Walton's text is given intact ;
but the voluminous technical notes with which
modern editors have expanded and qualified his
precepts have been generally omitted. For like
reasons, we have ventured (with some compunc-
tion) to divorce for the nonce " hearty, cheerful
Mr. Cotton " from his life-long companion. Cot-
ton's supplement (appended to "The Angler" as
Part II. since the fifth edition) is a brief treatise
on fly-fishing, designed to supply the deficiencies
in this branch of Part I. Cotton wrote his essay
hurriedly in ten days ; and though still of some

239

VI PREFACE.

technical interest, it falls far short of its pro-
totype in literary worth. Briefly, we offer in
the present edition the kernel of the larger
ones, — not, of course, with a notion of sup-
planting the latter, but with the hope of meeting
contingencies where a small and portable volume
is desirable.

CONTENTS.

PAGE

PREFACE v

INTRODUCTION xi

AUTHOR'S DEDICATION TO JOHN OFFLEY, ESQ. . xxix

AUTHOR'S ADDRESS TO HIS READERS , xxxi

(ZT&e first

CHAPTER I.

A CONFERENCE BETWIXT AN ANGLER, A HUNTER,
AND A FALCONER, EACH COMMENDING HIS REC-
REATION ............... 35

§>ecoirtr SDap.

CHAPTER II.
OBSERVATIONS OF THE OTTER AND CHUB 80

CHAPTER III.

HOW TO FlSH FOR, AND TO DRESS, THE CHA VEN-
DER, OR CHUB 91

VI 11 CONTENTS.

CHAPTER IV.

PACK

OBSERVATIONS OF THE NATURE AND BREEDING OF
THE TROUT, AND HOW TO FlSH FOR HIM. AND
THE MILKMAID'S SONG ......... 99

anto

CHAPTER V.
MORE DIRECTIONS HOW TO FISH FOR, AND HOW

TO MAKE FOR THE TROUT AN ARTIFICIAL MlN-
NOW AND FLIES; WITH SOME MERRIMENT . . 114

fZT&e fourth SDap.

CHAPTER VI.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE UMBER, OR GRAYLING, AND
DIRECTIONS HOW TO FISH FOR HIM . . . . 161

CHAPTER VII.
OBSERVATIONS OF THE SALMON, WITH DIRECTIONS

HOW TO FlSH FOR HIM ......... 164

CHAPTER VIII.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE LUCE, OR PIKE, WITH
DIRECTIONS HOW TO FISH FOR HIM ..... 173

CHAPTER IX.
OBSERVATIONS OF THE CARP, WITH DIRECTIONS

HOW TO FlSH FOR HIM l88

CONTENTS. IX

CHAPTER X.

PAGE

OBSERVATIONS OF THE BREAM, AND DIRECTIONS
TO CATCH HIM 198

CHAPTER XI.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE TENCH, AND ADVICE HOW
TO ANGLE FOR HIM 207

CHAPTER XII.
OBSERVATIONS OF THE PERCH, AND DIRECTIONS

HOW TO FlSH FOR HIM 2IO

CHAPTER XIII.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE EEL, AND OTHER FISH
THAT WANT SCALES, AND HOW TO FlSH FOR

THEM 2l6

CHAPTER XIV
OBSERVATIONS OF THE BARBEL, AND DIRECTIONS

HOW TO FlSH FOR HIM 225

CHAPTER XV.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE GUDGEON, THE RUFFE, AND
THE BLEAK, AND HOW TO FISH FOR THEM . . 231

CHAPTER XVI.

Is OF NOTHING, OR THAT WHICH is NOTHING
WORTH 234

CONTENTS.

(ZT&e

CHAPTER XVII.

PAGE

OF ROACH AND DACE, AND HOW TO FISH FOR
THEM ; AND OF CADIS .......... 243

CHAPTER XVIII.

OF THE MINNOW, OR PENK, OF THE LOACH, AND
OF THE BULL-HEAD, OR MILLER'S-THUMB . . . 256

CHAPTER XIX.

OF SEVERAL RIVERS, AND SOME OBSERVATIONS OF
FISH ............... .261

CHAPTER XX.

OF FlSH-PONDS AND HOW TO ORDER THEM . . 266

CHAPTER XXI.

DIRECTIONS FOR MAKING OF A LINE, AND FOR
THE COLORING OF BOTH ROD AND LINE . . . 271

INTRODUCTION.

T^REDERICK SCHLEGEL once observed —
JL and Coleridge paid him the compliment of steal-
ing the aphorism — that "every man is born either
a Platonist or an Aristotelian ; " is naturally predis-
posed to unriddle the pageant of which he finds him-
self a spectator, after the fashion of the Academy or
of the Lyceum.

Perhaps we are not to apply this maxim of Schle-
gel's too literally ; but surely an arbitrary division of
humanity into potential philosophers of one type or
the other is too sweeping. The critics are not the
only ones that come to the play; and quietly apart
from the wrangling a-priorist and empiricist camps
there has always been a section of mankind paradoxi-
cally styled "philosophical" because of a natural
inability and distaste to philosophize at all. To
such unharassed, piously receptive souls the sense-
world is a delightful spectacle benevolently arranged
for their entertainment, where the mechanism by
which the ingenious illusion is produced may be
admired and applauded, without being intrusively
pried into. They come, as it were, to enjoy, not to
judge ; to commend, not to fret over the price of ad-
mission, or to vex themselves and their neighbors
with untimely misgivings as to foul weather impend-

Xll INTRODUCTION.

ing when the hour comes for leaving the playhouse.
There is obviously a good deal to be said on the side
of this easy sect, —sometimes, and not unreasonably,
held by irreverent minds to be wiser than even the
accredited Professors of Wisdom themselves. For
since we now have it on the best philosophical au-
thority that our transcendental pryings are in effect
no better than a child's efforts to lay hold of the
moon, it would seem, on Philosophy's own showing,
to be high time for her votaries to turn from their
noumenal will-o'-the-wisps, and to content them-
selves with enjoying where they are not permitted
to comprehend.

With some reservations on the honorable score of
an inbred religious bent, the author of the little book
in the hand of the reader was a "philosopher" of the
comfortable type indicated in the foregoing. Izaak
Walton was not the man to look Nature's gift-horses
in the mouth. To his practical, shop-keeping sense
an actual bird in the hand was worth any number of
illusory birds in the metaphysical bush ; and we are
inclined to believe that few men have entered this
world blessed with a keener zest for its wholesomer
pleasures (the " unreproved pleasures " of Milton), or,
what is perhaps more to the point, kept that sense
in its original nicety longer than this "Common
Father of All Anglers." Nature, in balancing his
account, has fondly placed it to the credit of Izaak
Walton that for him no "fine, fresh May morning"
ever dawned, no bird ever sang, or blossom shed its
fragrance in vain. The outward details that remain
to us of this life are sufficiently meagre ; " comfort-
ably " so, says Mr. Lowell, in the tone of one who

INTRODUCTION. xill

has been in some sort a prey to modern journalistic
espials.

Walton was born of a family of substantial yeo-
men at Stafford, on the- 9th of August, 1593, the
year of Marlowe's death, and twenty-two years be-
fore Shakespeare's. Of his family we know next to
nothing, minute research having developed little
more than the rather spectral fact that his father,
Jervis Walton, was probably the second son of
George Walton, sometime bailiff of Yoxhall. Of his
school days there is no record. One fancies, how-
ever, that Izaak found the "contemplative man's
recreation" more to his taste than the Classics; as
his writings testify that he had little Latin and no
Greek, — his frequent quotations of authors who
wrote only in Latin, as Gesner, Cardan, Aldrovandus,
Rondeletius, and Albertus Magnus, being derived
from Topsel's translation of Gesner, in whose vo-
luminous history of animals the other writers are
cited. His educational defects, except in the clas-
sics, were in a measure supplied by later reading,
and especially by familiar converse with eminent and
learned divines of his day, of whom, says the Ox-
ford antiquary, Anthony a- Wood, "he was much
beloved."

Some of Walton's critics have thought fit to sneer at,
others, scarcely wiser, to gloss over, his imperfect at-
tainments, and especially his defective Latinity. A
lack of acquirements which are the indispensable prop
and stay of mediocrity need not, however, detain us
in the case of a man of real parts and performance.
The learning of a Person or an Erasmus would never
have produced "The Complete Angler;" and had

xiv INTRODUCTION.

Walton, who revered learning, been nourished on a
diet of Greek roots and particles, England would
perhaps have gained a pedant at the price of a man
of original merit and savor, — in most cases an un-
desirable exchange. Among the trivialities of petti-
fogging criticism there is, perhaps, none more abject
than this belittling an author of natural gifts and
invention on the score of his minor lapses in scholar-
ship. Even Shakespeare has been brayed at for
such slips as placing a seaport in Bohemia.

Walton went up to London from Staffordshire
sometime before 1619, and, until the date of his re-
tirement in 1664 with a modest fortune, he seems to
have followed the trade of a linendraper. His first
settlement in London as a shopkeeper was at the
Royal Exchange in Cornhill ; and the fact that the
shops round the Exchange were but seven and a half
feet long by five wide has started one of his editors,
the fastidious Mr. Major, on the eminently British
conjecture that Walton must have been a wholesale
dealer, because his shop was too small for the dis-
play of goods. This well-meant theory, benevolently
devised to disinfect a vulgar occupation, has been
properly upset and laughed at by later editors; and
it will probably seem of little moment to any one out-
side a class treated at some length by Thackeray,
whether a man who could write the "Lives" and
" The Angler " thought fit to serve his customers by
the piece or by the gross.

Sometime before 1624 Walton left the Exchange,
and we find it recorded that " he dwelt on the north
side of Fleet Street, in a house two doors west of
Chancery Lane, and abutting on a messuage known

INTRODUCTION. XV

by the sign of ' The Harrow.' " His last settlement in
the city was, according to the parish register of Saint
Dunstan, in the seventh house from the corner of
Chancery Lane; and we find it further recorded that
he filled successively the parish offices of scavenger
(not, we may suppose, in a malodorous way), jury-
man, constable, grand-juryman, overseer of the poor,
and vestryman. During his busy London life Wal-
ton's chief recreation was, of course, angling, — an
amusement profanely described by Swift, who, in-
deed, stopped at nothing, as " a stick and a string,
with a fly at one end and a fool at the other." In
this gentle, maligned craft, Izaak was accounted the
greatest proficient of his time ; and his favorite
haunt for the sport seems to have been the Lea, — a
stream, we fancy, long stripped of its trout, to say
nothing of its pleasant Waltonian inns, with their
" lavender in the windows and twenty ballads stuck
about the walls." These quaint hostelries inspired
some of Walton's most characteristic passages. He
never tires of ringing his pleasant changes upon their
homely cheer; and one may venture to conjecture
that if the joys awaiting good men in the next world
are benevolently adjusted to their preferences in
this, Izaak Walton is now reaping the reward of a
well-spent life, in some celestial inn, o'ergrown with
woodbine and honeysuckle, and presided over by a
seraphic hostess " cleanly and handsome and civil "
beyond the hostesses of this grosser mould.

Walton was twice married, and, true to his predi-
lection for the clergy, he went to them each time for
his wife. His first venture was Rachel Floud, ma-
ternally descended from Archbishop Cranmer. By

XVI INTRODUCTION.

her, who died in 1640, he had six sons and one
daughter, all of whom died in infancy or early child-
hood. His second wife, to whom he was married in
1646, was Anne, daughter of Thomas Ken, and sister
of Dr. Ken, Bishop of Bath and Wells, one of the
stubborn seven sent to the Tower by James II. Of
this marriage there were three children, — one son,
Izaak, who lived but a short time ; a daughter, Anne ;
and another Izaak, who survived his father, and died
in 1719, a canon of Salisbury and a worthy "brother
of the angle." Anne Ken, the second wife, died in
1662, as appears by a monumental inscription in the
cathedral church of Worcester. Her epitaph, one
of the quaintest of its kind and decked with sundry
choice flowers of mortuary rhetoric, closes with the
pious sentiment : —

"SHE DYED, (ALAS THAT SHE is DEAD!)

THE I7TH OF APRIL, 1662, AGED 52
Study to be like her."

Of Walton's later life we know little, save that it
was well spent. Somewhere about this period (1644-
1646) he left London, and, with a fortune far short
of what would now be termed a competence, retired
to a small estate in Staffordshire, not far from his
birthplace. In the words of Wood, "finding it
dangerous for honest men to be there, he left the
city, and lived sometimes at Stafford, and elsewhere ;
but mostly in the families of the eminent clergymen
of England, by whom he was much beloved." It
will be remembered that the term " honest " had a
religious and political import at that time; and that

INTRODUCTION. XV11

Walton occasionally suffered for his loyalty to Church
and King, we have some hints in his " Life of Sander-
son." That a good share of his leisure was spent
with his friend and adopted son, Charles Cotton, a
good poet, a cheerful man, and an angler scarcely
second to Walton himself, there is no doubt. Cotton
was a royalist country-gentleman of Beresford in
Staffordshire, whose handsome estate, Mr. Lowell
thinks, "after sidling safely through the intricacies
of the civil war, trickled pleasantly away through
the chinks of its master's profusion." He had built
a little fishing-house, marked with his own and
Walton's initials " twisted in cypher," on the banks
of the Dove ; and the two friends must have spent
many a pleasant morning together whipping the
waters of the stream, and conversing of the authors
they knew so well.

Of the efficacy of the "most honest, ingenious,
quiet, and harmless art of angling " in preserving the
sound mind in the sound body, he himself was a liv-
ing proof. He assures us in his will, written by him-
self at near ninety, that he is " in perfect memory ; "
and we find him at eighty-three planning a pilgrimage
of more than a hundred miles — a serious matter at
that day — to join his friend Cotton in fishing in the
Dove.

Walton died on the fifteenth day of December,
1683, in his ninetieth year, at Winchester, and lies
buried in a chapel in the south aisle of the cathedral.
The verses to his memory, inscribed on a large flat
slab of black marble, are so far from being what he
would term "choicely good" that we refrain from
quoting them.

2

xviii . INTRODUCTION.

We may now run over briefly the dates and titles
of Walton's writings. His first appearance as an
author seems to have been in 1633, in an Elegy
which accompanied the first edition of Donne's
poems Walton, though his taste in poetry was
good, could boast but a limited share of the accom-
plishment of verse ; and the Elegy is neither above
nor below his modest poetical level. Where his
poetry is passable, it is chiefly because his prose
merits, his amiable sincerity, and succinct phrase
have crept in.

Scarcely second in importance to " The Complete
Angler" are the "Lives." Boswell records that
this work was a prime favorite with Dr. Johnson;
and he adds that the Doctor once observed (rather
in Mr. Major's vein) that " it was wonderful that Wal-
ton, who was in a very low situation in life, should
have been familiarly received by so many great men,
and that at a time when the ranks of society were
kept more separate than they are now."

There is perhaps ground for holding the gentle
and courteous Walton's welcome in good society
less "wonderful" than that of the Doctor him-
self,— though Boswell is not likely to have sug-
gested it.

The inception of the " Lives " was due to a happy
chance. While living in the parish of St. Dunstan
in the West, Walton became the friend and frequent
hearer of its vicar, the famous Dr. Donne, who was
also dean of St. Paul's. Upon Donne's death in
1631, he was engaged to collect materials for a
" Life " which Sir Henry Wotton, provost of Eton
College, was to write ; but Wotton dying before the

INTRODUCTION. XIX

completion of his task, Walton was persuaded to
go on with it ; and the " Life " was accordingly fin-
ished— to the great satisfaction of Donne's friends
— and published with a collection of the Doctor's
sermons in 1640.

Walton's turn for biography having thus happily
discovered itself, he found no lack of employment
for the future. His remaining lives comprise Wot-
ton (1651), Richard Hooker (1665), George Herbert
(1670), and Bishop Sanderson (1678).

" The Complete Angler " appeared in 1653, though
it is probable it was begun some years before that.
Owing to the engaging nature of subject and treat-
ment, the work met with great success, reaching five
editions in the author's lifetime, the second in 1655,
the third in 1664, the fourth in 1668, and the fifth in
1676. To the fifth edition was added a Second Part,
written at Walton's request by his friend Cotton, and
described as being " Instructions how to angle for a
trout or grayling in a clear stream." It is really a
treatise on fly-fishing, a branch in which Cotton was
proficient and of which Walton knew very little, and
it was intended by Walton to supplement the tech-
nical deficiency of his own work. Cotton's part is
in form a continuation of "The Angler;" the dia-
logue is retained, some of the former characters re-
appear, and there is an evident effort throughout to
catch the tone of the original: but the charm is
gone ; it is Walton, in short, minus what is pecu-
liarly Walton, — salt without its savor.

Walton's last literary task was the editing, and in
a measure the re-writing, of " Thealma and Clear-
chus," a "pastoral history" written by a certain

XX INTRODUCTION.

John Chalkhill, whose not very important identity has
been the theme of much learned discussion.

Walton's life, stretching over nearly a century,
from the golden days when Shakespeare, Jonson,
Massinger, and the rest of the Elizabethan "singing-
birds" nested in the Mermaid, to the soberer era
when Dryden swayed the sceptre of taste and letters
at Will's coffee-house, opens many vistas to the
fancy, It saw, in its quiet course, the imperious
drama of Elizabeth's reign dwindle to its sorry con-
clusion, — the peevish, sick-room tyranny of a dying
old woman, reft of her arrogant illusions, doubtful
at last even of her own charms, sans friends, sans
flatterers, a sapless kernel shrivelling away from its
gilded court-husk ; it saw the fall of Bacon, Strafford,
and Laud, the rise of Pym, Hampden, and Crom-
well; it heard the clash of pike and rapier at Edge-
hill and Marston Moor, and saw the standard that
was raised at Nottingham go down in blood at
Naseby ; it saw the laurels won for England under
the Protectorate fade after the Restoration, and
heard the thunder of the Dutch cannon in the Med-
way, — an ominous alarum that, as Pepys says, made
" everybody nowadays reflect upon Oliver and com-
mend him."

Owing to a method of writing history now some-
what discredited, it is events and characters like
these that stir the fancy when we recall the England
of Walton's date. The past has been so strained of
its prose by the sieves of historians jealous for "the
dignity of history," that we scarcely realize that,
after all, it is the outwardly humdrum fortunes of
Hodge and his kindred that form the weft and the

INTRODUCTION. XXI

warp of the nation's annals; and that in the days
when the bickerings of King and Parliament were
ruffling its surface, the main current of England's
national life was flowing quietly enough. Izaak
Walton, we may be sure, had no desire to follow the
thundering drum, or to "go a-angling" in the turbid
pool of politics. His party fervor was not of the
feverish pitch that sets men upon convicting their
fellow-citizens of error by the final logic of throat-
cutting; so when the clouds of civil strife blackened
over London, like a prudent man and a thrifty linen-
draper, he put up his shutters, dismissed his 'pren-
tices, packed his rods and his tackle, and hied away
to the streams of quiet Staffordshire, where the trout
were leaping into the sunshine, and the wary chub
hung mid-deep in the shadows, and the pike lurked
solitary in his jungle under the lily-pads. Like the
prudent Mr. Piscator in "The Angler," when the
shower came up, he seated himself under a honey-
suckle hedge and waited till it was over.

To more ardent spirits than his, this withdrawal
from active partisanship to the more congenial paths
of authorship and angling may smack unpleasantly
of lukewarmness, not to say timidity; and Walton
has been charged with both. Be that as it may, we
at least have some reason to be thankful that Izaak
Walton, instead of vaporing with Charles's cavaliers
or singing truculent psalms with Oliver's roundheads,
chose to serve his country according to his gifts by
composing the " Lives " and " The Angler." Per-
haps, too, Walton, as a contemplative man, reflected
that if there was fighting to be done, there were
plenty to do it out of sheer love for the game, not

Xxii INTRODUCTION.

unmingled perhaps with a little human weakness
touching the final sharing of spoils. Fruitful lives
like his, too, are not to be played fast and loose with.
What had the world lost had Shakespeare fallen in
some civil chance-medley of the times, — like the
Essex brawl, — or had rare Ben Jonson been spitted
on a Spanish pike in the Low Countries ?

But not to multiply casuistry here, let us pass on
to a point at which Walton is plainly and ludicrously
lacking. Oddly enough, it is a point at which he is
in some respects strongest, — his sympathies. He
speaks in the most tenderly caressing way of "the
little living creatures with which the sun and sum-
mer adorn and beautify the river-banks and mead-
ows ; " he is loath even to disturb at its sweet labor
" the little contemptible winged creature, namely, the
laborious bee ; " he is as tender as Chaucer is of the
blackbird and thrassel, the titlark, the little linnet,
and "the honest robin that loves mankind both
alive and dead ; " in short, the sunny heart of Wal-
ton has a ray of kindness for all God's humbler crea-
tures,— except the fish. Here he is adamant. An
angler, he tells us, does no harm but to the fish, and
incidentally, of course, to the thousand and one luck-
less beings he baits his hook with ; but this he counts
as nothing. We have searched his pages in vain for
a single expression of regret for the (from the fishes'
point of view) devilish tortures he incites his disci-
ples to inflict. Once we fancied we saw a ray of
hope; but it soon vanished: after describing to his
" loving scholar " the proper mode of putting a frog
upon the hook, he deceptively adds: "and in so
doing, use him as though you loved him, that is.

INTRODUCTION'. xxiii

harm him as little as you may possibly, that he may
live the longer" — that is, that he may serve as bait
the longer. The moment one of his "little living
creatures " presents itself in the guise of bait, it for-
feits all claim upon the otherwise abundant sympa-
thy of Izaak Walton. Several writers, notably Byron
and Leigh Hunt, have railed at him on this score;
the former irreverently declaring in " Don Juan "
that —

" That quaint, old, cruel coxcomb in his gullet
Should have a hook and a small trout to pull it ; "

while Hunt, perhaps more with an eye to the capa-
bilities in the way of literary development of the
point of view than out of any tenderness for the fish,
wrote : —

"Now fancy a Genius fishing/<?r us. Fancy him bait-
ing a great hook with pickled salmon, and twitching up
old Izaak Walton from the banks of the river Lea, with
the hook through his ear. How he would go up, roaring
and screaming, and thinking the devil had got him !

1 Other joys
Are but toys.' "

As intimated in the preface, this edition of Walton's
masterpiece is designed chiefly for those who wish to
enjoy it as a piece of literature rather than to consult
it as a manual on fishing; and indeed we fancy that,
in the latter capacity, it is largely superseded. Pass-
ing over, then, its technical features, let us consider
briefly what are the literary qualities which account
for its survival and constant popularity, and make its
author, with his relatively limited attainments and
moderate production, one of the best known of the

XXIV INTRODUCTION.

older prose writers. Walton's vogue is doubtless
largely due to the great men who have rung his
praises; for his distinctive note in authorship, es-
pecially where it is most winning, is not of the re-
sonant pitch that readily strikes the popular ear.
Walter Scott, Dr. Johnson, Hallam, Lowell, Sheridan,
Irving, have praised him; and Charles Lamb said,
among other pleasant things, of " The Angler," that it
" would sweeten a man's temper at any time to read
it, and Christianize every discordant passion." The
key in which Lamb's encomium is pitched, and the
indulgent, half-petting tone so often assumed toward
Walton is no bad clew to his genre as a writer. One
would scarcely venture on patronizing or petting the
authors, say, of the " Novum Organum " and the
" Principia." Walton's fame rests on no imposing
achievement of intellectual power or sustained eleva-
tion of style and sentiment. His merits are of the
kindlier sort that grace the reverend names of Gold-
smith, Steele, Montaigne, of Samuel Pepys, even,
with whose cheerful garrulity he has much in com-
mon. The pleasure " The Angler " gives us is akin
to that we take in the artless prattle of children ; and
no corrupt nature, we think, ever found pleasure in
either. Frankness, innocence, the naive display of
an engaging personality, a piety free from the twang
of the conventicle, — these, mainly, are the saving
qualities, the myrrh and frankincense that have kept
this modest pastoral fresh and fragrant while so many
pompous folios have been forgotten. Frankness
is perhaps the virtue that lies at the root and feeds
the blossom of Walton's charm ; and certainly the
Muses have few gifts of which they are more chary.

INTRODUCTION. XXV

Like the black tulip, its value is the " scarcity value."
There is no lack of orally garrulous Pepyses and
Boswells, — fluent raconteurs with memories of orient
richness; how rare, on the contrary, the Pepyses
and Boswells who write ! Put but a pen in his hand,
and it is a hundred to one that the most ingenuous
" agreeable rattle " of club and drawing-room is struck
with sterility.

Considered as a matter of literary form, it is true
that Walton's artlessness, his concise simplicity of
phrase, is not always as artless as it looks ; and Mr.
Lowell has shown that a certain fine line of his l is
the chastened result of repetition and experiment.
Artistic nicety is not, however, incompatible with
candor; Pheidias was more plain-spoken than the
rude fashioners of the sexless xoana; and the works
of the guileless, amiably discursive Walton form no
exception to the rule that the passages in an author
which flow easiest are nine times in ten precisely the
ones that have received his most careful elaboration.
Again, much of Walton's charm is due to a turn, too
rarely exercised, for infusing into his own style some-
thing of the enchanting quaintness of phrase and
fancy of his great contemporaries Jeremy Taylor and
Sir Thomas Browne. There are crotchets and turns
in the "Lives" and "The Angler" that Browne
might have envied and Lamb have echoed ; and in
Walton's choicer passages the earmarks with delight
that winding, " many-membered " period, fluctuating
like the wayward melody of the wind-harp, borne (as

1 " These hymns are now lost to us, but doubtless they were
such as they two now sing in heaven." — Life of Herbert.

XXVI INTRODUCTION.

it seems) unpremeditated upon the wing of the
fancies it embodies, which Taylor taught his con-
temporaries, and himself carried to perfection in that
famous description of the lark : —

" For so I have seen a lark rising from his bed of grass,
soaring upward and singing as he rises and hopes to get
to Heaven, and climb above the clouds ; but the poor
bird was beaten back with the loud sighings of an eastern
wind, and his motion made irregular and inconstant, de-
scending more at every breath of the tempest than it could
recover by the vibration and frequent weighing of its
wings ; till the little creature was forced to sit down and
pant and stay till the storm was over ; and then it made
a prosperous flight, and did rise and sing as if it had
learned music and motion from an angel as he passed
sometimes through the air about his ministries here
below."

The reader of " The Angler " will not fail to mark
that Walton's style is extremely uneven. Like the
author of "The Urn Burial," he is fine in flashes;
and one sometimes wonders while reading him that
a man who can write so well should at times take it
upon his conscience to write so ill.

But Izaak Walton's oases, his green and watered
places, are frequent enough ; and the conscientious
reader who toils his way through the briery jungles
(and even there he may pluck an occasional berry)
of the tangled dissertations on hooks and tackle and
bait and primitive piety, may be cheerfully sure of
emerging presently in some green meadow studded
with cowslips and lady-smocks and sweet with the
breath of hawthorn and honeysuckle, where the
larks are soaring skyward, and tuneful milkmaids

INTRODUCTION. XXV11

are singing the smooth verses of Kit Marlowe and
Sir Walter Raleigh.

Such were the scenes that Walton loved ; and it is
perhaps the prime merit of " The Angler " that it
induces a relish for scenes like them. It tempts us
out of doors, and renews our taste for the wholesome
pleasures of the country, — for the primitive sights
and sounds and odors to which, as the poets who
know life best have told us, the jaded senses turn
back with longing when the hand of the ringer is at
the passing bell. Even obscene old Falstaff, steeped
in the riot of tavern and brothel, when the end came,
" babbled of green fields."

But it is time for the present writer to step aside,
and to say, with courteous Mr. Piscator, " I cry you
mercy for being so long, and thank you for your
patience."

E. G. J.

October, 1892.

SDetiicatiom

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL

JOHN OFFLEY,

OF MADELEY MANOR, IN THE COUNTY OF STAF-
FORD, ESQ.

MY MOST HONORED FRIEND :

SIR, — I have made so ill use of your former
favors as by them to be encouraged to entreat that
they may be enlarged to the patronage and protec-
tion of this book. And I have put on a modest con-
fidence 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 truth is de-
monstrated by the fruits of that pleasant labor which
you enjoy when you purpose to give rest to your
mind, and divest yourself of your more serious busi-
ness, 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

XXX DEDICA TION.

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 na-
tions that have been reputed men of great learning
and wisdom. And amongst those of this nation I
remember Sir Henry Wotton, a dear lover of this art,
has told me that his intentions were to write a dis-
course of the art, and in praise of angling; and
doubtless he had done so if death had not prevented
him : the remembrance of which hath often made me
sorry ; for if he had lived to do it, then the unlearned
angler had seen some better treatise of this art, — a
treatise that might have proved worthy his perusal,
which, though some have undertaken, I could never
yet see in English.

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

TO

ALL READERS OF THIS DISCOURSE,

BUT ESPECIALLY

TO THE HONEST ANGLER.

I THINK fit to tell thee these following truths, —
that I did neither undertake, nor write, nor publish,
and much less 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 begun it, and
do therefore desire and hope, if I deserve not com-
mendations, yet I may obtain pardon.

And though this Discourse may be liable to some
exceptions, 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 consideration and cen-
sure ; 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

XXxil DEDICATION.

mirth : of which, if thou be a severe, sour-complex-
ioned man, then I here disallow thee to be a compe-
tent 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, espe-
cially 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.

Next let me tell the reader, that in that which is
the more useful part of this Discourse, that is to say,
the observations of the nature and breeding and
seasons and catching of fish, I am not so simple as
not to know that a captious reader may find excep-
tions against something said of some of these ; and
therefore I must entreat him to consider that experi-
ence teaches us to know that several countries alter
the time, and I think almost the manner, of fishes'
breeding, but doubtless of their being in season; as
may appear by three rivers in Monmouthshire, name-
ly, Severn, Wye, and Usk, where Camden (" Brit.
Fishes," fol. 633) 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

DEDICA TION. XXX111

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 labor. 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
encourage them. For angling may be said to be so
like the mathematics that it can never be fully
learned ; 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
something 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 offered 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
3

XXXIV D ED 1C A 7YCW.

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 almanac, and no surer ; for those very flies that
use 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 concerning them. And he may note
that there are, in Wales and other countries, peculiar
flies proper to the particular place or country ; and
doubtless, unless a man makes a fly to counterfeit
that very fly in that place, he is like to lose his labor,
or much of it : but for the generality, three or four
flies, neat and rightly made, and not too big, serve
for a trout in most rivers all the summer. And for
winter fly-fishing, it is as useful as an almanac 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 im-
pression there are many enlargements,1 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.

1 Chiefly Cotton's treatise, which we omit. — ED.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

fittit

CHAPTER I.

A CONFERENCE BETWIXT AN ANGLER, A HUNTER,
AND A FALCONER, EACH COMMENDING HIS REC-
REATION.

PISCATOR, VENATOR, AUCEPS.

pISCATOR. You are well overtaken, gentle-
men : a good morning to you both. I have
stretched my legs up Tottenham Hill to overtake
you, hoping your business may occasion you to-
wards 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 morn-
ing's draught at the Thatched House in Hoddes-
den ; 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

36 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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

Auceps. Sir, I shall, by your favor, bear you
company as far as Theobald's, and there leave
you ; for then I turn up to a friend's house, who
mews a hawk 2 for me, which I now long to see.

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

Auc. It may do so, sir, with the help of good
discourse, which, methinks, we may promise from
you, that both look and speak so cheerfully ; and
for my part I promise you, as an invitation to it,
that I will be as free and open-hearted as discre-
tion will allow me to be with strangers.

Ven. And, sir, I promise the like.

Pise. I am right glad to hear your answers ;
and in confidence you speak the truth, I shall put
on a 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.

1 "Mews a hawk," from the French word mue: the care
taken of a hawk during the moulting-season, from about the first
of March till August; hence the places where hawks were trained
and kept were called mews.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER 37

Ven. Sir, mine is a mixture of both, a little
business and more pleasure ; for I intend this day
to do all my business, and then bestow another
day or two in hunting the otter, which a friend that
I go to meet tells me is much pleasanter than any
other 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 Hill,
who will be there so early that they intend to pre-
vent the sun-rising.

Pise. Sir, my fortune has answered my desires,
and my purpose is to bestow a day or two in help-
ing 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, — in-
deed 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 breed of
these base otters, they do so much mischief.

Ven. But what say you to the foxes of the na-
tion? Would not you as willingly have them de-
stroyed ? for doubtless they do as much mischief
as otters do.

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

Auc. Why, sir, I pray, of what fraternity are you,
that you are so angry with the poor otters ?

Pise. I am, sir, a brother of the angle, and there-
fore an enemy to the otter : for you are to note
that we anglers all love one another, and therefore

38 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

do I hate the otter both for my own and for their
sakes who are of my brotherhood.

Ven. And I am a lover of hounds ; I have fol-
lowed many a pack of dogs many a mile, and heard
many merry huntsmen make sport and scoff at
anglers.

Attc. And I profess myself a falconer, and have
heard many grave, serious men pity them, 't is
such a heavy, contemptible, dull recreation.

Pise. You know, gentlemen, 't 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 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, because nature hath

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 39

made them of a sour complexion ; money-getting
men, — men that spend all their time, first in getting,
and next in anxious care to keep it ; men that are
condemned to be rich, and then always busy or
discontented, — for these poor rich men we anglers
pity them perfectly, and stand in no need to bor-
row 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 1 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 an-
other) that we agree no better ; and who knows
but that she pities me for being no wiser than to
play with her, and laughs and censures my folly for
making sport for her, when we two play together ? "
Thus freely speaks Montaigne concerning cats,
and I hope I may take as great 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.

1 In his " Apology for Raimonde de Sebonde."

40 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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

Pise. Sir, I hope you will not judge my earnestness
to be impatience ; and for my simplicity, if by that
you mean a harmlessness, or that simplicity which
was usually found in the primitive Christians, who
were, as most anglers are, quiet men and followers
of peace, — men that were so simply wise as not to
sell their consciences to buy riches, and with them
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 big-
ger 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
spoken of, then myself and those of my profession
will be glad to be so understood : but if by sim-
plicity you meant to express a general defect in
those that profess and practise the excellent art
of angling, I hope in time to disabuse you,
and make the contrary appear so evidently, that
if you will but have patience to hear me, I shall
remove all the anticipations that discourse or
time or prejudice have possessed you with
against that laudable and ancient art ; for I
know it is worthy the knowledge and practice
of a wise man.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 41

But, gentlemen, though I be able to do this, I
am not so unmannerly as to engross all the dis-
course to myself; 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 ;
and having heard what you can say, I shall be glad
to exercise your attention with what I can say con-
cerning my own recreation and art of angling, and
by this means we shall make the way seem the
shorter ; and if you like my motion, I would have
Mr. Falconer to begin.

Auc. 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
both, yet the air is most properly mine, — I and
my hawks use that, and it yields us most recreation.
It stops not the high soaring of my noble, generous
falcon ; in it she ascends to such an height as the
dull eyes of beasts and fish are not able to reach
to, — their bodies are too gross for such high ele-
vations : 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 ordinary ; and that very falcon that I

42 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

am now going to see deserves no meaner a title, for
she usually in her flight 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 then she 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 mag-
nificent palaces which we adore and wonder at ;
from which height I can make her 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 pro-
fess to trade in, the worth of it is such, and it is
of such necessity, that no creature whatsoever —
not only those numerous creatures that feed on
the face of the earth, but those various creatures
that have their dwelling within the waters, —
every creature that hath life in its nostrils stands
in need of my element. The waters cannot pre-
serve 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 in-
spired mankind, he, if he wants it, dies presently,

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 43

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 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 excre-
ments 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 em-
ployment, grows then mute and sad to think she
must descend to the dull earth, which she would
not touch but for necessity.1

How do the blackbird and thrassel with their
melodious voices bid welcome to the cheerful

1 Ethereal minstrel ! pilgrim of the sky !

Dost thou despise the earth where cares abound?
Or, while the wings aspire, are heart and eye
Both with thy nest upon the dewy ground ?
Thy nest which thou canst drop into at will,
Those quivering wings composed, that music still !

WORDSWORTH . To a Skylark.

44 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 crea-
tures, breathes such sweet loud music out of her
little instrumental throat, that it might make man-
kind to think miracles are not ceased. He that at
midnight, when the very laborer sleeps securely,
should hear, as I have very often, the clear airs,
the sweet descants, the natural rising and ailing
the doubling and redoubling of her voice, might well
be lifted above earth, and say, " Lord, what music
hast thou provided for the saints in heaven, when
thou affordest bad men such music on earth ! "

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, of which very
much more might be said. My next shall be of
birds of political use. I think 'tis not to be
doubted that swallows have been taught to carry
letters between two armies. But 't is certain that
when the Turks besieged Malta or Rhodes, I now
remember not which it was, pigeons are then re-

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 45

lated to carry and recarry letters ; and Mr. G.
Sandys, in his " Travels," relates it to be done be-
twixt Aleppo and Babylon. But if that be disbe-
lieved, 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 messen-
ger. And for the sacrifices of the law, a pair of
turtle-doves or young pigeons were as well ac-
cepted as costly bulls and rams. And when God
would feed the prophet Elijah (i Kings xvii. 4-6)
after a kind of miraculous manner, he did it by
ravens, who brought him meat morning and eve-
ning. 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 crea-
ture, 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 several kinds, and
how useful their honey and wax is both for meat
and medicines to mankind ; but I will leave them
to their sweet labor, without the least disturbance,
believing them to be all very busy at this very time
amongst the herbs and flowers that we see nature
puts forth this May morning.

And now to return to my hawks, from whom I

46 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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.

There is the stelletto of Spain,

The blood-red rook from Turkey,
The waskite from Virginia.

And there is of short-winged hawks,
The eagle and iron,
The goshawk and 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.

Gentlemen, if I should enlarge my discourse to
the observations of the eires, the brancher, the

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 47

ramish hawk, the haggard, and the two sorts of
lentners, and then treat of their several eyries,
their mewings, rare order of casting, and the re-
novation of their feathers, their reclaiming, diet-
ing, and then come to their rare stories of prac-
tice5 — I Say, if I should enter into these, and many
other observations that I could make, it would be
much, very much pleasure to me ; but lest I should
break the rules of civility with you, by taking up
more than the proportion of time allotted to me, I
will here break off, and 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 favor for a further
enlargement of some of those several heads of
which I have spoken. But no more at present.
Veil. 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, wholesome, hungry trade. The earth
is a solid, settled element ; an element most uni-
versally 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

48 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

it sometimes with gins to betray the very vermin of
the earth, as namely the fichat, the full mart, the
ferret, the pole-cat, the mouldwarp, and the like
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 physic
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 a prodigal of my lime and your patience, what
might not I say in commendation of the earth,
that puts limits to the proud and raging sea, and
by that means preserves both man and beast, that it
destroys them not, as we see it daily doth those 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 lit-
tle, and then leave Mr. Piscator to the commenda-
tion of angling.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 49

Hunting is a game for princes and noble per-
sons ; it hath been highly prized in all ages ; it was
one of the qualifications that Xenophon bestowed
on his Cyrus, that he was a hunter of wild beasts.
Hunting trains up the younger nobility to the use
of manly exercises in their riper age. What more
manly exercise than hunting the wild boar, the
stag, the buck, the fox, or the hare ? How doth it
preserve health, and increase strength and activity !

And for the dogs that we use, who can commend
their excellency to that height which they deserve?
How perfect is the hound at smelling, who never
leaves or forsakes his first scent, but follows it
through so many changes and varieties of other
scents, even over and in the water and into the
earth? What 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 l 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 dis-
course daily.

I might enlarge myself in the commendation of
hunting, and of the noble hound especially, as also
of the docibleness of dogs in general ; and I might

1 " Rascal " (from the Saxon) : a lean beast ; used by hunters
in the sense of " worthless game." See Nares's Glossary.
4

50 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

make many observations of land-creatures, that for
composition, order, figure, and constitution, ap-
proach nearest to the completeness and under-
standing of man, — especially of those creatures
which 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 commendation 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.

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

Pise. Gentlemen, let not prejudice prepossess
you. I confess my discourse is like to prove suit-
able to my recreation, calm and quiet. We seldom
take the name of God into our mouths, but it is
either to praise him or to pray to him : if others
use it vainly in the midst of their recreations, so
vainly as if they meant 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 diminu-
tion 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 crea-
tion, the element upon which the Spirit of God did
first move, the element which God commanded to

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bring forth living creatures abundantly, and with-
out 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 ele-
ment 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 endeavor to demonstrate it
thus : -

Take a willow, or any like speedy-growing plant,
newly rooted in a box or barrel full of earth, weigh
them altogether exactly when the trees begin to
grow, and then weigh them altogether after the
tree is increased from its first rooting to weigh an
hundred pound weight more than when it was first
rooted and weighed ; and you shall find this aug-
ment of the tree to be without the diminution of
one drachm weight of the earth. Hence they in-
fer this increase of wood to be from water or 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

52 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 fruits are
produced and thrive by the water ; and the very
minerals are fed by streams that run under ground,
whose natural course carries them to the tops of
many high mountains, as we see by several springs
breaking forth on the tops of the highest hills ; and
this is also witnessed by the daily trial and testi-
mony 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 pre-
venting of sickness ; for it is observed by the most
learned physicians, that the casting off 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, has doubt-
less been the chief cause of those many putrid,
shaking, intermitting agues, unto which this nation
of ours is now more subject than those wiser coun-
tries that feed on herbs, sallets, and plenty of fish ;
of which it is observed in story, that the greatest
part of the world now do. And it may be fit to
remember that Moses (Lev. xi. 9 ; Deut. xiv. 9)
appointed fish to be the chief diet for the best com-
monwealth that ever yet was.

And it is observable, not only that there are fish.

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as namely the whale,1 three times as big as the
mighty elephant, that is so fierce in battle, but that
the mightiest feasts have been offish. The Romans,
in the height of their glory, have made fish the
mistress of all their entertainments ; they have had
music 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 in-
credible value of their fish and fish-ponds.

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

And, first, to pass by the miraculous cures of our
known baths, how advantageous is the sea for our
daily traffic, without which we could not now sub-
sist ! How does it not only furnish us with food
and physic for the bodies, but with such observa-

l We may observe here, once for all, that we shall not pay the
reader the poor compliment of pointing out Walton's frequent er-
rors as to elementary facts of natural history. His credulity in
these matters is sometimes surprising.

54 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

tions 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 con-
sideration ! And therefore it is not to be won-
dered at, that so learned and devout a father as
Saint Jerome, after his wish to have seen Christ in
the flesh, and to have heard Saint 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 Saint Paul was content to dwell,
and to view the many rich statues that are made in
honor of his memory ; nay, to see the very place
in which Saint Peter and he lie buried together !
These are in and near Rome. And how much
more doth it please the pious curiosity of a Chris-
tian 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 ; and to see Mount Sion, Jerusalem, and the
very sepulchre of our Lord Jesus ! How may it
beget and heighten the zeal of a Christian to see

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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.

Gentlemen, I might both enlarge and lose my-
self 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.

Auc. Sir, my pardon is easily granted you. I
except against nothing that you have said ; never-
theless, 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 of your recreation. And
so, gentlemen, God keep you both.

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

Ven. Not I, sir. I remember you said that an-
gling 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.

56 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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

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

Pise. Oh, sir, doubt not but that angling is an
art. Is it not an art to deceive a trout with an arti-
ficial 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 ? 1
and yet I doubt not to catch a brace or two to-
morrow, for a friend's breakfast. Doubt not, there-
fore, 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

1 This is a mistake : it was Auceps, and not Venator, that
named the hawks ; and Auceps had before taken his leave of
these his companions.

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is somewhat 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, observing 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 an-
gling will prove to be so pleasant that it will prove
to be, like virtue, a reward to itself.

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

Pise. Then, first, for the antiquity of angling, of
which I shall not say much, but only this : some
say it is as ancient as Deucalion's flood ; others,
that Belus, who was the first inventor of godly and
virtuous recreations, was the first inventor of an-
gling ; and some others say, for former times have
had their disquisitions about the antiquity of it,
that Seth, one of the sons of Adam, taught it to
his sons, and that by them it was derived to pos-
terity ; others say that he left it engraven on those
pillars which he erected, and trusted to preserve
the knowledge of the mathematics, music, and the
rest of that precious knowledge and those useful
arts, which by God's appointment or allowance
and his noble industry were thereby preserved
from perishing in Noah's flood.

These, sir, have been the opinions of several
men, that have possibly endeavored to make an-

58 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

gling more ancient than is needful or may well be
warranted ; but for my part, I shall content myself
in telling you that angling is much more ancient
than the incarnation of our Saviour ; for in the
prophet Amos mention is made of fish-hooks ;
and in the book of Job, which was long before the
days of Amos, for that book is said to be writ 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 communi-
cable, 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 per-
son, — so if this antiquity of angling, which for my
part I have not forced, shall, like an ancient family,
be either an honor or an ornament to this virtuous
art which I profess to love and practise, I shall be
the gladder that I made an accidental mention of
the antiquity of it ; of which I shall say no more,
but proceed to that just commendation which I
think it deserves.

And for that I shall tell you that in ancient
times a debate hath risen, and it remains yet un-
resolved, whether the happiness of man in this
world doth consist more in contemplation or
action.

Concerning which some have endeavored to

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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 good-
ness, and the like. And upon this ground, many
cloisteral men of great learning and devotion pre-
fer 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 (Luke x. 41, 42).

And, on the contrary, there want not men of
equal authority and credit, that prefer action to be
the more excellent, — as namely experiments in
physic, 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 particu-
lar persons ; and they say, also, that action is doc-
trinal, and teaches both art and virtue, and is a main-
tainer 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 contented in telling you, my very worthy
friend, that both these meet together, and do most
properly belong to the most honest, ingenuous,
quiet, and harmless art of angling.

And first, I shall tell you what some have ob-
served, and I have found to be a real truth, that
the very sitting by the river's side is not only the

60 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

quietest and fittest place for contemplation, but
will invite an angler to it ; and this seems to be
maintained by the learned Peter du Moulin, who
in his discourse of the fulfilling of prophecies ob-
serves 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 (Ps. 137), who having in a sad
condition banished all mirth and music from their
pensive hearts, and having hung up their mute
harps upon the willow-trees growing by the rivers
of Babylon, sat down upon those banks, bemoan-
ing 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 offer-
ing 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

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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 that be bred and live in them, and
those by authors of so good credit, that we need
not to deny them an historical faith.

As namely of a river in Epirus, that puts out any
lighted torch, and kindles any torch that was not
lighted.1 Some waters, being drunk, cause mad-
ness, 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 color.2 And one of no less credit
than Aristotle tells us of a merry river, the river
Elusina, that dances at the noise of music ; for with
music it bubbles, dances, and grows sandy, and so
continues till the music ceases, but then it pres-
ently 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 op-
posed by hills, finds or makes itself a way under

1 From evolving sulphuretted hydrogen gas.

2 The river referred to was probably the Adonis, running out
of Mount Libanus, which turns red, from the red soil of the moun-
tain at the time of freshets.

62 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

ground, and breaks out again so far off that the in-
habitants 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 philosopher says, in the third
chapter of his ninth book, that in the Indian sea
the fish called balsena, 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 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 tem-
pestuous winds oppose the torrents of waters falling
from the rocks into it, and so turning what lay at
the bottom to be seen on the water's top. And he
says that the people of Cadara, an island near this
place, make the timber for their houses of those
fish-bones. He there tells us that there are some-
times a thousand of these great eels found wrapt
or interwoven together. He tells us there that it
appears that dolphins love music, 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

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much of this is spoken concerning the dolphin, and
other fish, as may be found also in the learned
Dr. Casaubon's "Discourse of Credulity and In-
credulity," 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 crea-
tures to be now seen — many collected by John
Tradescant,1 and others added by my friend Elias
Ashmole, Esq., who now keeps them carefully 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
dolphin, the coney-fish, the parrot-fish, the shark, the
poison-fish, sword-fish ; and not only other incredible
fish, but you may there see the salamander, several
sorts of barnacles, of Solan geese, the bird of Para-
dise, such sorts of snakes, and such bird's-nests, and
of so various forms and so wonderfully made, as may
beget wonder and amusement in any beholder ; and
so many hundred of other rarities in that collection
as will make the other wonders I spake of the less
incredible ; for you may note that the waters are
Nature's storehouse in which she locks up her
wonders.

But, sir, lest this discourse may seem tedious, I
shall give it a sweet conclusion out of that holy

1 Gardener to Charles I., and a great collector of the curious.

64 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

poet, Mr. George Herbert, his divine " Contempla-
tion on God's Providence " : —

" 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 x them.

" We all acknowledge both thy power and love
To be exact, transcendent, 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 (Ps. civ.),
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 contemplative reader,
concerning the sea, the rivers, and the fish therein
contained ! And the great naturalist, Pliny, says
'• that Nature's great and wonderful power is more
demonstrated in the sea than on the land." And
this may appear by the numerous and various
creatures inhabiting both in and about that ele-
ment ; as to the readers of Gesner, Rondeletius,
Pliny, Ausonius, Aristotle, and others, may be de-
monstrated. But I will sweeten this discourse also
out of a contemplation in divine Du Bartas, who
says : —

1 Owns.

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" 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 drowned.
For seas, as well as skies, have sun, moon, stars ;
As well as air — swallows, rooks, and stares ; l
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 in the seas :
As also rams, calves, horses, hares, and hogs,
Wolves, urchins, lions, elephants, and dogs ;
Yea, men and maids ; and, which I most admire,
The mitred bishop and the cowled friar,
Of which examples, but a few years since,
Were shown the Norway and Polonian prince."

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

The cuttle-fish will cast a long gut out of her
throat, which, like as an angler, doth his line, she
sendeth forth and pulleth in again at her pleasure,
according 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

l Starlings.
5

66 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

upon her, and then catches and devours her : and
for this reason some have called this fish the sea-
angler.

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

There is also a fish, called by .^Elian in his ninth
book " Of Living Creatures," c. 16, the Adonis, or
darling of the sea ; so called because it is a loving
and innocent fish, — a fish that hurts nothing that
hath life, and is at peace with all the numerous in-
habitants of that vast watery element ; and truly I
think most anglers are so disposed to most of
mankind.

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

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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 6/

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 ;
In nuptial duties, spending his chaste life ;
Never loves any but his own dear wife."

Sir, but a little longer, and I have done.
Ven. Sir, take what liberty you think fit, for
your discourse seems to be music, and charms me
to an attention.

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

And to parallel this land-rarity, and to teach
mankind moral faithfulness, and to condemn those
that talk of religion and yet come short of the
moral faith of fish and fowl, — men that violate the
law affirmed by Saint Paul (Rom. ii. 14, 15, 16) to
be writ in their hearts, and which he says shall at the
last day condemn and leave them without excuse,
— I pray hearken to what Du Bartas sings, for the
hearing of such conjugal faithfulness will be music

68 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

to all chaste ears, and therefore I pray hearken to
what Du Bartas sings of the mullet :

" But for chaste love the mullet hath no peer;
For if the fisher hath surprised her pheer,1
As mad with woe, to shore she followeth,
Prest 2 to consort him, both in life and death."

On the contrary, what shall I say of the house-
cock, which treads any hen, and then, contrary to
the swan, the partridge, and pigeon, takes no care
to hatch, to feed, or cherish his own brood, but is
senseless, though they perish ? And 't is consider-
able that the hen, which, because she also takes
any cock, expects it not, who is sure the chick-
ens be her own, hath by a 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 Jerusalem (Matt, xxiii.
37), quotes her for an example of tender affection ;
as his father had done Job for a pattern of
patience.

And to parallel this cock, there be divers fishes
that cast their spawn on flags or stones, and then
leave it uncovered, 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 mutually labor, both
the spawner and the melter, to cover their spawn

1 Fellow or mate.

2 Prepared, ready ; Fr. Pret.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 69

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 by
Aristotle, some by Pliny, some by Gessner, and
by many others of credit, and are believed and
known by divers, both of wisdom and experience,
to be a truth ; and indeed are, as I said at the be-
ginning, fit for the contemplation of a most serious
and a most pious 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 testified by the practice of so many
devout and contemplative men as the patriarchs
and prophets of old, and of the apostles of our
Saviour in our latter times ; of which twelve, we
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 to speak all languages, and by
their powerful eloquence to beget faith in the un-
believing Jews, and themselves to suffer for that
Saviour whom their forefathers and they had cru-
cified ; 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

7O THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

these happy fishermen, concerning which choice
some have made these observations : —

First, that he never reproved these for their em-
ployment or calling, as he did the scribes and the
money-changers. And secondly, he found that
the hearts of such men by nature were fitted for
contemplation and quietness, — men of mild and
sweet and peaceable spirits, as indeed most an-
glers are ; yet 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 nomination in the catalogue of his twelve
apostles (Matt, x.), as namely, first, Saint Peter,
Saint Andrew, Saint James, and Saint John, and
then the rest in their order.

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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 71

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 in-
genious and learned man ; who observes that God
hath been pleased to allow those whom he him-
self 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 brings Solomon for an example,
who before his conversion was remarkably car-
nally amorous, and after, by God's appointment,
wrote that spiritual dialogue, 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 anglers ; for you shall in all the Old
Testament find fish-hooks, I think, but twice men-
tioned ; 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 be-
lieve Amos to be, not only a shepherd, but a good-
natured plain fisherman. Which I do the rather

72 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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

And for the lawfulness of fishing, it may very
well be maintained by our Saviour's bidding Saint
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 shall find that
there he declares to have found a king and several
priests a-fishing.

And he that reads Plutarch shall find that an-
gling was not contemptible in the days of Mark
Antony and Cleopatra, and that they in the midst
of their wonderful glory used angling as a princi-
pal recreation. And let me tell you that in the
Scripture angling is always taken in the best
sense ; and that though hunting may be some-
times so taken, yet it is but seldom to be so under-
stood. And let me add this more : he that views
the ancient Ecclesiastical Canons shall find hunt-
ing to be forbidden to churchmen, as being a tur-
bulent, toilsome, perplexing recreation ; and shall
find angling allowed to clergymen, as being a
harmless recreation, a recreation that invites them
to contemplation and quietness.

I might here enlarge myself, by telling you what
commendations our learned Perkins bestows on

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 73

angling ; and how dear a lover and great a prac-
tiser of it our learned Dr. Whitaker was, as in-
deed 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 church of St. Paul's, in London, where
his monument stands yet undefaced ; a man that,
in the reformation of Queen Elizabeth (1550), 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, en-
joined, 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 pos-
terity. And the good old man, though he was
very learned, yet knowing that God leads us not
to heaven by many nor by hard questions, like an
honest angler, made that good, plain, unperplexed
catechism, which is printed with our good old
Service-book. I say, this good man was a dear
lover and constant practiser of angling, as any age
can produce. And his custom was to spend, be-
sides his fixed hours of prayer, those hours which
by command of the Church were enjoined the
clergy, and voluntarily dedicated to devotion by
many primitive Christians ; I say, besides those
hours this good man was observed to spend a tenth
part of his time in angling ; and also, for I have con-
versed with those who have conversed with him,

74 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

to bestowing 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 ; say-
ing often, " that charity gave 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 con-
tent, 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 Brazennose
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 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., 1 60 1, being aged ninety-five years, forty-four
of which he had been dean of St. Paul's 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 use-
less." 'T is said that angling and temperance
were great causes of these blessings ; and I wish
the like to all that imitate him, and love the mem-
ory of so good a man.

My next and last example shall be that under-
valuer of money, the late Provost of Eton College,
Sir Henry Wotton : a man with whom I have
often fished and conversed, a man whose foreign
employments in the service of this nation, and

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 75

whose experience, learning, wit, and cheerfulness
made his company to be esteemed one of the de-
lights of mankind. This man, whose very appro-
bation of angling were sufficient to convince any
modest censurer of it, — this man was also a most
dear lover and a frequent practiser of the art of
angling ; of which he would say, " 'T was an em-
ployment for his idle time, which was not then
idly spent ; " for angling was, after tedious study,
u a rest to his mind, a cheerer of his spirits, a
diverter of sadness, a calmer of unquiet thoughts,
a moderator of passions, a procurer of contented-
ness ; " 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 calmness of
spirit, and a world of other blessings attending
upon it.

Sir, this was the saying of that learned man, and
I do easily believe that peace and patience and a
calm content did cohabit in the cheerful heart of
Sir 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 : —

7 6 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

" This day Dame Nature seemed 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.
Already were the eaves possest
With the swift Pilgrim's 1 daubed nest :
The groves already did rejoice
In Philomel's triumphing voice;
The showers were short, the weather mild,
The morning fresh, the evening smiled.

Joan takes her neat -rubbed pail, and now
She trips to milk the sand-red cow, —
Where, for some sturdy foot-ball swain,
Joan strokes a syllabub or twain.
The fields and gardens were beset
With tulips, crocus, violet ;
And now, though late, the modest rose
Did more than half a blush disclose.
Thus all looks gay, and full of cheer,
To welcome the new liveried year."

These were the thoughts that then possessed
the undisturbed mind of Sir Henry Wotton. Will
you hear the wish of another angler, and the com-
mendation 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 have a dwelling-place ;
Where I may see my quill or cork down sink
With eager bite of perch, or bleak, or dace ;

1 The swallow.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 77

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-keyes.

" 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-rolled

With sundry kinds of painted colors fly;
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, enclosed with rivers running round :

These rivers making way through Nature's chains
With headlong course into the sea profound ;

The raging sea, beneath the valleys low,

Where lakes and rills and rivulets do flow;

"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 ;

78 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

The meadows fair, where Flora's gifts among

Are intermixed 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 pleas-
ant and more suitable 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 the
Thatched House ; and I must be your debtor, if
you think it worth your attention, for the rest of
my promised discourse, till some other opportun-
ity and a like time of leisure.

Ven. 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.

Pise. Most gladly, sir ; and we '11 drink a civil

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 79

cup to all the otter-hunters that are to meet you
to-morrow.

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

Pise. It is a match, sir ; I will not fail you, God
willing, to be at Amwell Hill to-morrow morning
before sunrising.

CHAPTER II.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE OTTER AND CHUB.

IfENATOR. 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, checkered 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.

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

Ven. Gentleman huntsman, where found you
this otter?

Hunt. Marry, sir, we found her a mile from
this place a-fishing : she has this morning eaten

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 8 1

the greatest part of this trout ; she has only left
thus much of it as you see, and was fishing for
more. When we came, we found her just at it :
but we were here very early, we were here an hour
before 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.

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

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

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

Hunt. Sir, it is not in my power to resolve you.
I leave it to be resolved by the College of Carthu-
sians, 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 tail is fish. And
if her body be fish too, then I may say that a fish
will walk upon land ; for an otter does so some-
times five 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 de-
vours 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
6

82 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

in the water an hundred yards from him : Gesner
says much further, and that his stones are good
against the falling sickness ; and that there is an
herb, benione, which, being hung 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
is brave hunting this water-dog in Cornwall ; where
there have been so many that our learned Cam-
den 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, therefore, my masters, fol-
low, for Sweetlips was like to have him at this last
vent.

Ven. Oh me, all the horse are got over the
river. What shall we do now? Shall we follow
them over the water?

Hunt. No, sir, no, be not so eager ; stay a lit-
tle, and follow me, for both they and the dogs will
be suddenly on this side again, I warrant you ; and
the otter too, it may be. Now have at him with
Killbuck, for he vents l again.

Ven. 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.

1 Comes to the surface to breathe.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 83

Now Sweetlips has her ; hold her, Sweetlips ! now
all the dogs have her, some above and some
under water ; but, now, now, she is tired, and
past losing. Come bring her to me, Sweetlips.
Look ! it is a bitch-otter, and she has lately
whelped. Let 's 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.

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

Pise. No, I pray, sir, save me one ; and I '11
try if I can make her tame, as I know an in-
genious gentleman in Leicestershire, Mr. Nich.
Seagrave, has done ; who hath not only made her
tame, but to catch fish, and do many other things
of much pleasure.

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

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

84 THE COMPLETE ANGLER,

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

Ven. Well, now let 's go to your sport of an-
gling-

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

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

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

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

Pise. Sir, I will tell you presently what I think
of your host ; but first I will tell you, I am glad
these otters were killed, and I am sorry 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, will be
forced to eat flesh, or suffer more inconveniences
than are yet foreseen.

Ven. Why, sir, what be those that you call the
fence-months?

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 85

Pise. Sir, they be principally three, namely,
March, April, and May; for these be the usual
months that salmon come out of the sea to spawn
in most fresh rivers, and their fry would about a
certain time return back to the salt-water, if they
were not hindered by wires 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 i3th
of Edward L, and the like in Richard IL, 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
water 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 young,
— a sin so against nature that Almighty God hath
in the Levitical law 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 seagull, the hern, the kingfisher, the
gorara, the puet, the swan, goose, duck, and

86 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

the craber, which some call the water-rat : against
all which any honest man may make a just quar-
rel, 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 compan-
ion : for most of his conceits were either Scripture
jests or lascivious jests, — for which I count no
man witty ; for the devil will help a man that way
inclined, to the first, and his own corrupt nature,
which he always carries with him, to the latter.
But a companion that feasts the company with wit
and mirth, and leaves out the sin which is usually
mixed with them, he is the man ; and indeed such
a companion should have his charges borne : and
to such company I hope to bring you this night ;
for at Trout Hall, not far from this place, where I
purpose to lodge to-night, there is usually an an-
gler 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 company that shall
be nameless ; I am sorry the other is a gentleman,
for less religion will not save their souls than a
beggar's : I think more will be required at the last
great day. Well, you know what example is able
to do ; and I know what the poet says in like case,

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 87

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."

This is reason put into verse, and worthy the
consideration of a wise man. But of this no more ;
for though I love civility, yet I hate severe cen-
sures. I '11 to my own art ; and I doubt not but
at yonder 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.

Ven. Oh, sir ! a chub is the worst fish that
swims; I hoped for a trout to my dinner.

Pise. Trust me, sir, there is not a likely place
for a trout hereabout, and we stayed so long to take
our leave of your huntsman 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.

Ven. Why, how will you dress him ?

Pise. I '11 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 '11
catch only one, and that shall be the biggest of

88 THE COMPLETE AA'GLER.

them all ; and that I will do so, I '11 hold you
twenty to one, and you shall see it done.

Veil. Ay, marry, sir ! now you talk like an ar-
tist ; and I '11 say you are one, when I shall see
you perform what you say you can do : but I yet
doubt it.

Pise. You shall not doubt it long, for you shall
see me do it presently. Look, the biggest of these
chubs has had some bruise upon his tail, by a pike
or some other accident, and that looks like a white
spot ; that very chub I mean to put into your
hands presently. Sit you but down in the shade,
and stay but a little while, and I '11 warrant you
I '11 bring him to you.

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

Pise. Look you, sir, there is a trial of my skill ;
there he is, that very chub that I showed you, with
a white spot on his tail ; and I '11 be as certain to
make him a good dish of meat, as I was to catch
him. I '11 now lead you to an honest ale-house,
where we shall find a cleanly room, lavender
in the windows, and twenty ballads stuck against
the wall ; there my hostess — which, I may tell
you, is both cleanly and handsome and civil —
hath dressed many a one for me, and shall now
dress it after my fashion, and I warrant it good
meat.

Ven. Come, sir, with all my heart, for I begin
to be hungry, and long to be at it, and indeed to
rest myself too ; for though I have walked but

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 89

four miles this morning, yet I begin to be weary ;
yesterday's hunting hangs still upon me.

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

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

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

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

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

Pise. Well, sir, how do you like it ?

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

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

Ven. Why, sir, it is that from henceforth you
will allow me to call you master, and that really I
may be your scholar ; for you are such a com-
panion, and have so quickly caught and so excel-
lently cooked this fish, as makes me ambitious to
be your scholar.

Pise. Give me your hand ; from this time for-

9O THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

ward 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 somewhat of the nature of most of the
fish that we are to angle for, and I am sure I both
can and will tell you more than any common angler
yet knows.

CHAPTER III.

HOW TO FISH FOR, AND TO DRESS THE CHAVEN-
DER, OR CHUB.

pfSCATOjR. The chub, though he eat well,
thus dressed, yet as he is usually dressed, he
does not : he is objected against, not only for
being full of small forked bones, dispersed through
all his body, but that he eats waterish, and that the
flesh of him is not firm, but short and tasteless.
The French esteem him so mean as to call him
un vilain. 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, — 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
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

92 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

with vinegar, or rather verjuice and butter, and
with good store of salt mixed with it.

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

But take this rule with you, that a chub newly
taken and newly dressed is so much better than
a chub of a day's keeping after he is dead, that I
can compare him to nothing so fitly as to cherries
newly gathered from a tree, and others that have
been bruised and lain a day or two in water. 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 labor 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 is free from
smoke ; and all the time he is broiling baste him
with the best sweet butter, and good store of salt
mixed with it. And to this add a little thyme cut

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 93

exceedingly small or bruised into the butter. The
cheven thus dressed hath the watery taste taken
away, for which so many except against him.
Thus was the cheven dressed that you now liked
so well and commended so much. But note again
that if this chub that you ate 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 body not washed after
he is gutted, as indeed no fish should be.

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 better
fish 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 behind the tree, and
stand as free from motion as possible. Then put
a grasshopper on your hook, and let your hook
hang a quarter of a yard short of the water, to
which end you must rest your rod on some bough
of the tree. But it is likely the chubs will sink
down towards the bottom of the water at the first
shadow of your rod, for the 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

94 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

they will presently rise up to the top again, and
there lie soaring till some shadow affrights them
again. I say, when they lie on the top of the
water, look out the best chu.b, 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
on the water three or four inches before him, and
he will infallibly 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 scarcely ever
lose its hold, and therefore give him play enough
before you offer to take him out of the water. Go
your way presently, take my rod and do as I bid
you, and I will sit down and mend my tackling
till you return back.

Ven. Truly, my loving master, you have offered
me as fair as I could wish. I '11 go and observe
your directions.

Look you, master, what I have done ! that
which joys my heart, — caught j.ust such another
chub as yours was.

Pise. Marry ! and I am glad of it ; I am like to
have a towardly scholar of you. I now see that
with advice and practice you will make an angler
in a short time. Have but a love to it, and I '11
warrant you.

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

Pise. Then I may tell you that a black snail,
with his belly slit to show the white, or a piece of

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 95

soft cheese, will usually do as well. Nay, some-
times a worm or any kind of fly, as the ant-fly, the
flesh-fly, or wall-fly, or the dor or beetle, which
you may find under cow-dung, or a bob, which
you will find in the same place, and in time will
be a beetle, — it is a short white worm, like to and
bigger than a gentle or a cod-worm or a case-
worm, — any of these will do very well to fish in
such a manner.

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

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

Pise. By a leather-mouthed fish I mean such as
have their teeth in their throat, as the chub, or
cheven. And so the barbel, the gudgeon and carp,
and divers others 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

96 THE COMPLETE ANGLER,

other fish, which have not their teeth in their
throats but in their mouths, which you shall ob-
serve to be very full of bones, and the skin very
thin, and little of it. I say of these fish the hook
never takes so sure hold, but you often lose your
fish unless he have gorged it.

Ven. I thank you, good master, for this observa-
tion. But now what shall be done with my chub,
or cheven, that I have caught?

Pise. Marry, sir, it shall be given away to some
poor body, for I '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 he is usually
taken with worms. In May, June, and July he
will bite at any fly, or at cherries, or at beetles
with their legs and wings cut off, or at any kind of
snail, or at a 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 hum-
ble-bee that breeds in long grass, and is ordinarily
found by the mower of it. In August and in the
cooler months, a yellow paste, made of the strong-
est cheese, and pounded in a mortar, with a little
butter and saffron, so much of it as being beaten
small will turn it to a lemon color. And some
make a paste for the winter months — at which time

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 97

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
present, but wish you may catch the next you fish
for.

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

You shall read in Seneca's " Natural Questions,"
lib. iii. cap. 1 7, that 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
entertaining of friends to have that fish taken from
under their table alive that was instantly to be fed
upon. And he says they took great pleasure to
7

98 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

see their mullets change to several colors when
they were dying. But enough of this, for I doubt
I have stayed too long from giving you some
observations of the trout and how to fish for
him, which shall take up the next of my spare
time.

CHAPTER IV.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE NATURE AND BREEDING OF
THE TROUT, AND HOW TO FISH FOR HIM. AND
THE MILKMAID'S SONG.

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

And before I go further into my discourse let
me tell you that you are to observe that as there
be some barren does that are good in summer, so

IOO THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

there be some barren trouts that are good in win-
ter ; but there are not many that are 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 differ
much in their bigness and shape and other ways,
and so do trouts. It is well known that in the
Lake Leman, the lake of Geneva, there are trouts
taken of three cubits long, as is affirmed by Ges-
ner, a writer of good credit. And Mercator says
the trouts that are taken in the Lake of Geneva
are a great part of the merchandise 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 in-
credible, 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, es-
pecially 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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. IOI

is accounted the rarest of fish, — many of them
near the bigness of a salmon, but known by their
different color, — arid 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 excel-
lent angler, and now with God ; and he hath told
me he thought that trout bit, not for hunger, but
wantonness. And it is the rather to be 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 young ravens
that call upon him ; " and they be kept alive and
fed by dew, or worms that breed in their nests, or
some other way 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 sea-
son," 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

102 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 fresh water ; and it may be the
better believed because it is well known that swal-
lows and bats and wagtails — which are called half-
year birds, and not seen to fly in England for six
months in the year, but about Michaelmas leave
us for a hotter climate — yet some of them that
have been left behind their fellows have been
found, many thousands at a time, in hollow trees
or clay caves, where they have been observed to
live and sleep out the whole winter without meat.
And so Albertus 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.

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 only,

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 103

or as the birds of paradise and the chameleon are
said to live, by the sun and the air.

There is also in Northumberland a trout called
a bull-trout, of a much greater length and bigness
than any in these southern parts. And there are
in many rivers 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 coun-
tries differ one from another in their shape and
bigness and the fineness of their wool. And cer-
tainly, as some pastures breed larger sheep, so do
some rivers, by reason of the ground over which
they run, breed larger trouts.

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

And next you are to take notice that he is not
like the crocodile, which if he lives never so long,
yet always thrives till his death. But it is 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, especially
before, the time of his spawning get almost mira-
culously through weirs and flood-gates against the
streams, even through such high and swift places
as is almost incredible. Next, that the trout

IO4 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 con-
tinues 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 the sun gets to
such a height as to warm the earth and the water,
the trout is sick and lean and lousy and unwhole-
some, for you shall in winter find him to have a
big head, and then to be lank and thin and lean,
at which time many of them have sticking on them
sugs or trout-lice, which is a kind of 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 ; 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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 10$

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 gene-
ral 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 kinds of spiders, and yet all, for aught
I know, go under that one general name of spider.

IO6 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

And it is so with many kinds of fish, and of trouts
especially, which differ in their bigness and shape
and spots and color. 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 musi-
cal 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 even-
ing or to-morrow morning, I will give you direc-
tion how you yourself shall fish for him.

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

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

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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

Pise. Marry, e'en eat him to supper. We '11 go
to my hostess from whence we came. She told
me, as I was going out of door, that my brother
Peter, a good angler and a 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 have the best ; we '11 rejoice
with my brother Peter and his friend, tell tales, or
sing ballads, or make a catch, or find some harm-
less sport to content us, and pass away a little time
without offence to God or man.

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

Pise. Nay, stay a little, good scholar. I caught
my last trout with a worm. Now I will put on a
minnow, and try a quarter of an hour about yon-
der trees for another, 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 shower falls so gently upon
the teeming earth, and gives yet a sweeter smell
to the lovely flowers that adorn these verdant
meadows.

IO8 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

Look ! under that broad beech-tree I sat down
when I was last this way a-fishing ; and the birds
in the adjoining grove seemed to have a friendly
contention with an echo, whose dead voice seemed
to live in a hollow tree near to the brow of that
primrose-hill. There I sat viewing the silver
streams glide silently towards their centre, the
tempestuous sea ; yet sometimes opposed by
rugged roots and pebble-stones, which broke their
waves, and turned them into foam. And some-
times I beguiled time by viewing the harmless
lambs, — some 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 possessed
my soul with content that I thought, as the poet
has happily expressed it, —

" I was for that time lifted above earth,
And possessed joys not promised in my birth."

As I left this place and entered into the next
field, a second pleasure entertained me : 't was a
handsome milkmaid, 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 Marlowe,
now at least fifty years ago. And the milkmaid's

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 09

mother sung an answer to it, which was made by
Sir Walter Raleigh in his younger days.

They were old-fashioned poetry, but choicely
good, — I think, much better than the strong
lines which 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 my-
self and my friend, I will bestow this upon you
and your daughter, for I use to sell none.

Milkw. 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 you syllabub of new verjuice in a new-made
hay-cock for it. And my Maudlin 1 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 mean time will you drink a draught of red
cow's milk ? You shall have it freely.

Pise. No, I thank you ; 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.

Milkw. What song was it, I pray? Was it,

1 Diminutive for Matilda.

110 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

" Come, shepherds, deck your herds," or " As at
noon Dulcina rested," or "Phillida flouts me,"
or "Chevy Chace," or "Johnny Armstrong," or
"Troy Town"?

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

Milkw. Oh, 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 MILKMAID'S SONG.

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

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

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 ;

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. Ill

A gown made of the finest wool,
Which from our pretty lambs we pull ;
Slippers lined 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.

Ven. Trust me, master, it is a choice song, and
sweetly sung by honest Maudlin. I now see it
was not without cause that our good Queen Eliza-
beth did so often wish herself a milkmaid 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 '11
bestow Sir Thomas Overbury's milkmaid's wish
upon her, " That she may die in the spring, and
being dead may have good store of flowers stuck
round about her winding-sheet."

112 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

THE MILKMAID'S MOTHER'S ANSWER.

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

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

The flowers do fade, and wanton fields
To wayward winter reckoning 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.

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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 113

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

Maud. I will, mother.

" I married a wife of late,
The more 's my 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 't is not so
With those that go
Through frost and snow,
As all men know,
And carry the milking-pail."

Pise. 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 comes mine hostess
to call us to supper. How now ! is my brother
Peter come ?

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

8

jfourtlj

CHAPTER V.

MORE DIRECTIONS HOW TO FISH FOR, AND HOW
TO MAKE FOR THE TROUT AN ARTIFICIAL MIN-
NOW AND FLIES ; WITH SOME MERRIMENT.

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 daping l 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
countryman, and his name is Coridon, and he is
a downright witty companion, that met me here
purposely to be pleasant and eat a trout. And I
have not wetted my line since we met together ;
but I hope to fit him with a trout for his breakfast,
for I '11 be early up.

1 Dapping, or dibbing, is to drop your bait with a very gen-
tle tap or dab on the surface of the water. — BROWNE.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 11$

Pise. 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 forefathers did use to drink of, —
the drink which preserved their health, and made
them live so long, and to do so many good deeds.

Peter. O' my word, this trout is perfect in sea-
son. 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.

Pise. Trust me, brother Peter, I find my scholar
to be so suitable to my own good humor, which is
to be free and pleasant and civilly merry, that my
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.

Il6 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

Ven. 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.

Pise. 'T is 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.

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

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

Cor. I will sing a song if anybody will sing an-
other. Else, to be plain with you, I will sing none.
I am none of those that sing for meat, but for
company. I say, " 'T is merry in hall when men
sing all." »

Pise. I '11 promise you I '11 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 Bed-
lam," and many others of note ; and this that I
will sing is in praise of angling.

1 Parody on the adage, —

" It 's merry in the hall
When beards wag all."

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. IT/

Cor. 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.

Ven. 'T is 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.

Pise. 'T is a match, my masters. Let 's e'en
say grace, and turn to the fire, drink the other
cup to wet 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.

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

Cor. Well, then, I will begin, for I hate con-
tention.

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.

Il8 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

For courts are full of flattery,
As hath too oft been tried ;

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc.
The city full of wantonness ;
And both are full of pride :

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 clothing is good sheepskins,
Gray russet for our wives ;

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

Then care away, etc.

The ploughman, though he labor hard,
Yet, on the holiday,

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

Then care away, etc.

To recompense our tillage,
The heavens afford us showers ;

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

Then care away, etc.

The cuckoo and the nightingale
Full merrily do sing,

Heigh trolollie lollie loe, etc.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. Up

And with their pleasant roundelays
Bid welcome to the spring :
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 countryman with me.

Jo. CHALKHILL

Pise. Well sung ! Coridon, this song was sung
with mettle, and it was choicely fitted to the occa-
sion ; 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 when they be warmed with
drink. And take this for a rule, — you may pick
out such times and such companies that you may
make yourselves merrier for a little than a great
deal of money ; for " 'T is the company and not
the charge that makes the feast," and such a com-
panion 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.

I2O THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

THE ANGLER'S SONG.

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

But these delights I neither wish,

Nor envy, while I freely fish.

Who hunts, doth oft in danger ride ;

Who hawks, lures oft both far and wide ;

Who uses games, shall often prove

A loser ; but who falls in love

Is fettered in fond Cupid's snare :
My angle breeds me no such care.

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

My hand alone my work can do,

So I can fish and study too.

I care not, I, to fish in seas ;

Fresh rivers best my mind do please,

Whose sweet calm course I contemplate,

And seek m life to imitate :

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

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 praise the wise,
Whom vain allurements ne'er surprise.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 121

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.

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

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

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

122 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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

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

Peter. 'T is a match. Good night to everybody.

Pise. And so say I.

Ven. And so say I.

jfourtlj

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.

Ven. Well now, good master, as we walk towards
the river, give me direction, according to your
promise, how I shall fish for a trout.

Pise. My honest scholar, I will take this very
convenient opportunity to do it.

The trout is usually caught with a worm or a
minnow, which some call a penk, or with a fly,
namely, either a natural or an artificial fly, concern-
ing which three I will give you some observations
and directions.

And first for worms : of these there be very many

THE COMPLETE ANGLER, 123

sorts. Some breed only in the earth, as the earth-
worm ; 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 particular fishes. But for the trout, the dew-
worm, which some also call the lob-worm, and the
brandling are the 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, compared to a lively, quick,
stirring worm. And for a brandling he is usually
found in an old dung-hill or some very rotten
place near to it ; but most usually in cow-dung or
hog's dung, rather than horse-dung, which is some-
what 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 color 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,

124 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

which of all others is the most excellent 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 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, es-
pecially the brandling, begins to be sick and lose
of his bigness, then you may recover him by put-
ting 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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 125

that there be divers kinds of it, which I could
name to you, but will only tell you that that which
is likest a buck's horn is the best, except it be soft
white moss, which grows on some heaths, and is
hard to be found. And note that in a very dry
time, when you are put to an extremity for worms,
walnut-tree leaves squeezed into water or salt in
water, to make it bitter or salt, and then that
water poured on the ground where you shall see
worms are used to rise in the night, will make
them to appear above ground presently. And
you may take notice, some say that camphor
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 show you how to bait your
hook with a worm, so as shall prevent you from
much trouble, and the loss of many a hook too,
when you fish for a trout with a running line ; that
is to say, when you 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 done so,
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

126 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 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 the river, and there both
to hide and keep himself warm in the mud or in
the weeds, which rot not so soon as in a running
river, in which place if he were in winter, the dis-
tempered floods that are usually in that season
would suffer 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 't is 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 :

THE COMPLETE ANGLER, I2/

Put your hook in at his mouth and out of his gill ;
then, having drawn your hook two or three inches
beyond or through his gill, put it again into his
mouth, and the point and beard out at his tail, and
then 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 im-
possible 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 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 an-
glers know right well, that at some times and in
some waters a minnow is not to be got; and there-
fore let me tell you I have, which I will show to
you, an artificial minnow, that will catch a trout as
well as an artificial fly ; and it was made by a hand-

128 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

some woman that had a fine hand, and a live min-
now 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 ima-
gine, 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 show 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 partridge, 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 usually taken. You are to know that
there are so many sorts of flies as there be of
fruits. I will name you but some of them ; as the
dun-fly, the stone-fly, the red-fly, the moor-fly, the

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 12$

tawny-fly, the shell-fly, the cloudy or blackish fly,
the flag-fly, the vine-fly. There be of flies, cater-
pillars and canker-flies and bear-flies, and indeed
too many either for me to name or for you to re-
member. 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 palmer-
fly or worm, that by them you may guess what a
work it were, in a discourse, but to run over those
very many flies, worms, and little living creatures
with which the sun and summer adorn and beau-
tify 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.

Pliny holds an opinion that many have their
birth or being from a dew that in the spring falls
upon the leaves of trees, and that some kinds of
them are from a dew left upon herbs or flowers,
and others from a dew left upon the coleworts or
cabbages. All which kinds of dews, being thick-
ened and condensed, are by the sun's generative
heat, most of them, hatched, and in three days
made living creatures ; and these of several shapes
and colors, — 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
9

130 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

hath with great diligence observed, those which
have none move upon the earth or upon broad
leaves, their motion being not unlike to the waves
of the sea. Some of them he also observes to be
bred of the eggs of other caterpillars, and that
those in their time turn to be butterflies: and
again, that their eggs turn the following year to be
caterpillars. And some affirm that every plant
has its particular fly or caterpillar which it breeds
and feeds. I have seen, and may therefore affirm
it, a green caterpillar, or worm, as big as a small
peasecod, 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
color two or three times ; but by some neglect in
the keeper of it, it then died, and did not turn into
a fly. But if it had lived it had doubtless turned
to one of those flies that some call flies of prey,
which those that walk by the rivers may in sum-
mer see fasten on smaller flies, and, I think, make
them their food. And it is observable that as
there be these flies of prey which be very large,
so there be others, very little, — created, I think,
only to feed them, and breed out of I know not
what ; whose life they say, Nature intended not
to exceed an hour, — and yet that life is thus
made shorter by other flies or by accident.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 131

'T is endless to tell you what the curious search-
ers into Nature's productions have observed of
these worms and flies; but yet I shall tell you
what Aldrovandus, our Topsel, and others say of
the palmer- worm, or caterpillar : that whereas
others content themselves to feed on particular
herbs or leaves, — for most think those very leaves
that gave them life and shape give them a particu-
lar feeding and nourishment, and that upon them
they usually abide, — yet he observes that this is
called a pilgrim or palmer-worm for his very wan-
dering life and various food ; not contenting him-
self, as others do, with any one certain place for
his abode, nor any certain kind of herb or flower
for his feeding, but will boldly and disorderly wan-
der up and down, and not endure to be kept to a
diet, or fixed to a particular place.

Nay, the very colors 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 show you feeding
on a willow-tree, and you shall find him punctually
to answer this description : his lips and mouth
somewhat yellow, his eyes black as jet, his fore-
head 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 Saint
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.

132 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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, without eating, all the winter. And as
others of several kinds turn to be several kinds of
flies and vermin, the spring following, so this cater-
pillar 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 honey-
suckle hedge, whilst I look a line to fit the rod
that our brother Peter hath lent you, I shall, for a
little confirmation of what I have said, repeat the
observation of Du Bartas : —

" God, not contented to each kind to give,
And to infuse, the virtue generative,
By his wise power made many creatures breed
Of lifeless bodies, without Venus' deed.

" So the Cold Humor breeds the Salamander ;
Who, in effect, like to her birth's commander,
With child with hundred winters, with her touch
Quencheth the fire, though glowing ne'er so much.

" So in the fire, in burning furnace, springs
The fly Perausta with the flaming wings
Without the fire it dies ; in it, it joys,
Living in that which all things else destroys.

" So slow Bootes underneath him sees,
In the icy islands, goslings hatched of trees;
Whose fruitful leaves falling into the water,
Are turned, 't is known, to living fowls soon after.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 133

" So rotten planks of broken ships do change
To barnacles. Oh, transformation strange !
'T was first a green tree, then a broken hull
Lately a mushroom, now a flying gull."

Ven. Oh, my good master, this morning walk has
been spent to my great pleasure and wonder ; but
I pray, when shall I have your direction how to
make artificial flies like to those that the trout
loves best, and also how to use them?

Pise. My honest scholar, it is now past five of
the clock ; we will fish till nine, and then go to
breakfast. Go you to yon sycamore- tree, and hide
your bottle of drink under the hollow root of it ;
for about that time and in that place we will make
a brave breakfast with a piece of powdered beef
and a radish or two that I have in my fish-bag ;
we shall, I warrant you, make a good, honest,
wholesome, hungry breakfast. And I will then
give you direction for the making and using of
your flies. And in the mean time there is your
rod and line ; and my advice is that you fish as
you see me do, and let 's try which can catch the
first fish.

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

Pise. Look you, 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

134 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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.

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

Pise. 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 ! he has broke all ; there 's half
a line and a good hook lost.

Ven. Ay, and a good trout too.

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

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

Pise. Look you, scholar, I have yet another.
And now, having caught three brace of trouts, I
will tell you a short tale as we walk towards our
breakfast. A scholar, a preacher I should 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 composed it ; and though the borrower
of it preached it word for word as it was at first,
yet it was utterly disliked as it was preached by
the second to his congregation, — which the ser-
mon-borrower complained of to the lender of it,
and was thus answered : " I lent you, indeed, my

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 135

fiddle, but not my fiddle-stick ; for you are to
know that every one cannot make music with my
words, which are fitted to my own mouth." And
so, my scholar, you are to know that as the ill
pronunciation or ill accenting of words in a ser-
mon spoils it, so the ill carriage of your line, or
not fishing even to a foot in a right place, makes
you lose your labor; 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, or how to guide it to a right place. And this
must be taught you ; for you are to remember, I
told you, angling is an art, either by practice or
long observation, or both. But take this for a
rule when you fish for a trout with 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 breakfast.
What say you, scholar, to the providence of an
old angler? Does not this meat taste well, and
was not this place well chosen to eat it ? for this
sycamore-tree will shade us from the sun's heat.

Ven. All excellent good, and my stomach ex-
cellent good too. And now I remember and
find that true which devout Lessius says, "that

136 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

poor men, and those that fast often, have much
more pleasure in eating than rich men and glut-
tons, 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 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 prom-
ised direction for making and ordering my artifi-
cial fly.

Pise. My honest scholar, I will do it, for it is a
debt due unto you by my promise. And because
you shall not think yourself more engaged to me
than indeed you really are, I will freely give you
such directions as were lately given to me by an in-
genious 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 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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

dun wool ; the wings of the partridge's feathers.
The second is another dun-fly : the body of black
wool, and the wings made of the black drake's
feathers and of the feathers under his tail. The
third 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 begin-
ning of May the body made of red wool, wrapped
about with black silk ; and the feathers are the
wings of the drake, with the feathers of a red
capon, also, which hang dangling on his sides
next to the tail. The fifth is the yellow or green-
ish 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 lapped about with
the herle of a peacock's tail ; the wings are made
of the wings of a brown capon, with his blue feath-
ers 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
off the wings of a buzzard, bound with black
braked hemp. The eighth is the moorish-fly,
made with the body of duskish wool, and the
wings made of the blackish mail of the drake.
The ninth is the tawny-fly, good until the middle
of June : the body made of tawny wool ; the wings
made contrary one against the other, made of the
whitish mail of the wild drake. The tenth is the
wasp-fly in July : the body made of black wool,

138 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

lapped 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, lapped 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, lapped about with black silk ; his
wings are made with the mail l of the black drake,
with a black head. Thus have you a jury of flies
likely to betray and condemn all the trouts in the
river.

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 your-

l Meaning the mottled feathers.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 139

self 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 colors. These and the
May-fly are the ground of all fly-angling, which are
to be thus made : —

First, you must arm 1 your hook with the line 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 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's or a 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

1 To tie, or whip round.

140 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 arm-
ing 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 an-
gler may walk by the river, and mark what flies fall
on the water that day, and catch one of them, if he
sees the trout leap at a fly of that kind, and then,
having always hooks ready hung with him, and
having a bag also always with him, with bear's
hair or the hair of a brown or sad-colored heifer,
hackles of a cock or capon, several colored silk
and crewel, to make the body of the fly ; the feath-
ers 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 colors, especially sad-colored, to

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 141

make the fly's head ; and there be also other col-
ored 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 perfec-
tion 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 love
with the art of fly-making.1

Ven. 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.

Pise. Marry, scholar, but I would not be there,
nor indeed from under this tree ; for look how it
begins to rain ! and by the clouds, if I mistake
not, we shall presently have a smoking shower ;
and therefore sit close, — this sycamore-tree will
shelter us, — and I will tell you as 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 south wind is said to be the
best. One observes that

" When the wind is south,
It blows your bait into a fish's mouth."
1 Walton was no adept at fly-fishing, and therefore his direc-
tions should not be followed implicitly. Perhaps no better ad-
vice can be given to the fly-fisher than that he use the flies
common to the locality.

142 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 color," 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 a cold day, and then gets nearer the
lee-side of the water.

But I promised to tell you more of the fly-fish-
ing for a trout, which I may have time enough to
do, for you see it rains May butter. First for a
May-fly : you may make his body with greenish-
colored crewel or willowish color, 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 color 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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 143

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 with a fly, if it be possible, let
no part of your line touch the water, but your fly
only ; and be still moving your fly upon the water,
or casting it into the water, you yourself being also
always moving down the stream.

Mr. Barker commends several sorts of the
palmer-fly, — not only those ribbed with silver and
gold, but others that have their bodies all made of
black, or some with red, and a red hackle. You
may also make the hawthorn-fly, which is all black,
and not big, but very small, — the smaller the bet-
ter. Or the oak-fly, the body of which is orange-
color 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

144 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

natural fly is excellent, and affords much pleasure.
They may be found thus : the May-fly usually in
and about that month near to the river-side, es-
pecially 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
showed to angle for a chub, you may dape or
dop ; 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 shower, for it has done raining.
And now look about you, and see how pleasantly
that meadow looks ; nay, and the earth smells as
sweetly too. Come let me tell you what holy Mr.
Herbert says of such 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.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 145

" 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 shows you have your closes, —
And all must die.

" Only a sweet and virtuous soul,
Like seasoned timber, never gives,
But when the whole world turns to coal, —
Then, chiefly, lives."

Ven. I thank you, good master, for your good
direction for fly-fishing, and for the sweet enjoy-
ment 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 I do the rather believe it, because
he had a spirit suitable to anglers, and to those
primitive Christians that you love and have so
much commended.

Pise. Well, my loving scholar, and /am pleased
to know that you are so well pleased with my
direction and discourse.

And since you like these verses of Mr. Her-
bert'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
10

146 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

friend of mine, and I am sure no enemy to
angling.

What ! Prayer by the Book, and common ? Yes ; why not ?

The spirit of grace
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 choosing of the ways

Wherein to make

Their souls' most intimate affections known
To Him that sees in secret, when
Th' are most concealed from other men.

But he that unto others leads the way
In public prayer,
Should do it so
As all that hear may know

They need not fear

To tune their hearts unto his tongue and say
Amen ! not doubt they were betrayed
To blaspheme, when they meant to have prayed.

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,

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 147

Prayer in the Church's words as well
As sense, of all prayers bears the bell.1

CH. HARVIE.

And now, scholar, I think it will be time to
repair to our angle-rods, — which we left in the
water to fish for themselves ; and you shall choose
which shall be yours ; and it is an even lay one
of them catches.

And let me tell you, this kind of fishing with a
dead rod, and laying night-hooks, are like putting
money to use ; for they both work for the owners
when they do nothing but 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 syca-
more 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, which we now see glide so quietly
by us. Indeed, my good scholar, we may say
of angling, as Dr. Boteler said of strawberries,
" Doubtless God could have made a better berry,

1 These verses were written at or near the time when the Liturgy
was abolished by an ordinance of Parliament; and while it was
agitating, as a theological question, whether, of the two, pre-
conceived or extemporary prayer is more agreeable to the sense
of Scripture.

148 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

but doubtless God never did ; " and so, if I might
be judge, " God never did make a more calm,
quiet, innocent recreation than angling."

I'll tell you, scholar, when I sat last on this
primrose-bank, and looked down these meadows,
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 : 't was
a wish, which I '11 repeat to you.

THE ANGLER'S WISH.1

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 turtle dove
Court his chaste mate to acts of love :

Or on that bank feel the west wind
Breathe health and plenty ; please my mind
To see sweet dew-drops kiss these flowers,
And then washed off by April showers :
Here hear my Kenna sing 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-pitched thoughts above

Earth, or what poor mortals love :

Thus free from law-suits and the noise

Of princes' courts, I would rejoice :

1 Probably written by Walton himself. " Kenna " is an allu-
sion to his second wife, whose maiden name was Ken.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 149

Or, with my Bryan 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 the
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 pres-
ently we met with an accidental piece of merri-
ment; 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 beg-
gars. 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 de-
grees 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. Sd.

150 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

The second was to have a fourth part of the
twenty shillings, which all men know to be $s.

The third was to have a fifth part of the twenty
shillings, which all men know to be 4*.

The fourth and last gypsy was to have a sixth
part of the twenty shillings, which all men know
to be 35-. 4</.

As, for example.

3 times 6.r. 8^/. is 2QS.

And so is 4 times $s. 2os.

And so is 5 times 4^. 2os.

And so is 6 times $s. $d. — 205-.

And yet he that divided the money was so very
a gypsy that though he gave to every one these
said sums, yet he kept one shilling of it for him-
self.

As for example, s. d.

6 8

5 °
4 o
3 4

Make but ... 19 o

But now you shall know, that when the four
gypsies saw that he had got one shilling by divid-
ing the money, though not one of them knew any
reason to demand more, yet, like lords and cour-
tiers, 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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 151

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 Gusman, 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 con-
tention amongst the beggars, whether it was easi-
est to rip a cloak or to unrip a cloak. One
beggar affirmed it was all one ; but that was denied
by asking her if doing and undoing were all one.
Then another said, 't was easiest to unrip a cloak,
for that was to let it alone ; but she was answered
by asking her how she unripped it if she let it
alone. And she confessed herself mistaken.
These and twenty such-like questions were pro-
posed with as much beggarly logic and earnest-
ness as was ever heard to proceed from the
mouth of the most pertinacious schismatic ; and
sometimes all the beggars, whose number was
neither more nor less than the poets' nine muses,
talked all together about this ripping and unrip-
ping, and so loud that not one heard what the
other said. But at last one beggar craved audi-
ence, and told them that old Father Clause, whom

152 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

Ben Jonson, in his " Beggar's Bush," 1 created
king of their corporation, was that night 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 ques-
tions, but to refer all to Father Clause at night, for
he was an upright judge, and in the mean time
draw cuts what song should be next sung, and
who should sing it. They all agreed to the mo-
tion, 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 burden with her. The ditty was this ; but
first the burden, —

" 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, when beggars meet ?

A beggar's life is for a king.
Eat, drink, and play ; sleep when we list,
Go where we will, so stocks be missed.

Bright shines the sun. Play, beggars, play !
Here 's scraps enough to serve to-day.

" The world is ours, and ours alone,
For we alone have world at will :
We purchase not ; all is our own,

Both fields and streets we beggars fill.

1 By Beaumont and Fletcher, not Jonson.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 153

Nor care to get, nor fear to keep,
Did ever break a beggar's sleep.

Bright shines the sun. Play, beggars, play !

Here 's scraps enough to serve to-day.

"A hundred herds of black and white

Upon our gowns securely feed ;
And yet if any dare us bite,

He dies therefore as sure as creed.
Thus beggars lord it as they please,
And only beggars live at ease.

Bright shines the sun. Play, beggars, play !
Here's scraps enough to serve to-day."

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

Pise. But I pray forget not the catch which you
promised to make against night ; for our country-
man, honest Coridon, will expect your catch, and
my song, which I must be forced to patch up, for
it is so long since I learned 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.

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

Pise. Ay, marry, sir, that was a good fish in-
deed. If I had had the luck to have taken up
that rod, then it is twenty to one he should have

154 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

not broken 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 Rick-
abie's at the George in Ware ; and it may be by
giving that very great trout the rod, that is, by
casting it to him into the water, I might have
caught him at the long run, — for so I use always
to do when I meet with an overgrown fish, and
you will learn to do so too, hereafter ; for I tell
you, scholar, fishing is an art, or at least it is an art
to catch fish.

Ven. But, master, I have heard that the great
trout you speak of is a salmon.

Pise. Trust me, scholar, I know not what to say
to it. There are many country people that be-
lieve 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. Meric Casaubon affirms, in his book of credi-
ble and incredible things, that Caspar Peucerus, a
learned physician, tells us of a people that once a
year turn wolves, partly in shape and partly in con-
ditions. 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 color or
kind, I am not able to say ; but I am certain he

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 155

hath all the signs of being a trout, both for his
shape, color, and spots ; and yet many think he is
not.

Ven. But, master, will this trout which I had
hold of die, for it is like he hath the hook in his
belly?

Pise. I will tell you, scholar, that unless the
hook be fast in his very gorge, 't is more than pro-
bable 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, I have a fish too, but it proves a log-
ger-headed chub ; and this is not much amiss, for
this will pleasure some poor body, as we go to our
lodging to meet our brother Peter and honest
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.

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

Pise. Well, scholar, now we are sat down and
are at ease, I shall tell you a little more of trout-
fishing before I speak of the salmon, which I pur-
pose 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

156 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

great lob or garden worm, or rather two, which
you are to fish with in a place where the waters
run somewhat quietly, for in a stream the bait will
not be so well 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, 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 usu-
ally 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 long 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 color, and at the snap. Nay, he will some-
times rise at a dead mouse, or a piece of cloth, or
anything that seems to swim across the water or
be in motion. This is a choice way ; but I have
not oft used it, because it is void of the pleasures

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 157

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
use to catch trouts in the night by the light of a
torch or straw, which when they have discovered
they strike with a trout spear or other ways, This
kind of way they catch very many ; but I would
not believe it till I was an eyewitness of it, nor do
I like it now I have seen it.

Ven. But, master, do not trouts see us in the
night?

Pise. Yes, and hear and smell too, both then
and in the daytime. For Gesner observes, the ot-
ter smells a fish forty furlongs off him in the water ;
and that it may be true seems to be affirmed by
Sir Francis Bacon in the Eighth Century of his
'* Natural History," who there proves that waters
may be the medium of sounds by demonstrating it
thus : " That if you knock two stones together
very deep under the water, those that stand on a
bank near to that place may hear the noise without
any diminution of it by the water." He also of-
fers the like experiment concerning 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

158 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

stirring of the earth which is occasioned by that
thunder.

And this reason of Sir Francis Bacon, Exper.
792, has made me crave pardon of one that I
laughed at for affirming that he knew carps come
to a certain place in a pond to be fed at the ring-
ing of a bell or the beating of a drum. And how-
ever, 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 Dr. Hake will, who in his " Apol-
ogy of God's Power and Providence," foL 360,
quotes Pliny to report that one of the emperors
had particular fish-ponds, and in them several fish
that appeared and came when they were called
by their particular names. And Saint James tells
us (chap. iii. 7) that all things in the sea have been
tamed by mankind. And Pliny tells us (Lib. ix.
35) that Antonia, the wife of Drusus, had a lam-
prey at whose gills she hung jewels or ear-rings,
and that others have been so tender-hearted as to
shed tears at the death of fishes which they have
kept and loved, And these observations, which
will to most hearers seem wonderful, seem to have
a further confirmation from Martial, Lib. iv. Epigr.
30, who writes thus : —

Piscator, fuge, ne nocens, etc.
" Angler, wouldst thou be guiltless ? then forbear »

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 159

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 owners' call repair."

All the further use that I shall make of this
shall be to advise anglers to be patient and for-
bear swearing, lest they be heard and catch no
fish.

And so I shall proceed next to tell you it is
certain that certain fields near Leominster, a town
in 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 pas-
ture 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 pas-
ture ; and, again, return to a finer wool, being fed
in the fine wool ground. Which I tell you that
you may the better believe that I am certain if I
catch a trout in one meadow he shall be white and
faint, and very like to be lousy, and, as certainly,
if I catch a trout in the next meadow, he shall
be strong and red and lusty, and much better
meat. Trust me, scholar, I have caught many a
trout in a particular meadow, that the very shape
and enamelled color of him hath been 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."

160 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

I should by promise speak next of the salmon ;
but I will, by your favor, say a little of the umber
or grayling, which is so like a trout for his shape
and feeding that I desire I may exercise your pa-
tience with a short discourse of him ; and then the
next shall be of the salmon.

jFourrtj

CHAPTER VI.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE UMBER OR GRAYLING, AND
DIRECTIONS HOW TO FISH FOR HIM.

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 coun-
try, 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 at
a much higher rate than any other fish. The
French, which call the chub un vilain, call the
umber of the lake Leman un umble chevalier; and
they value the umber or grayling so highly that
they say he feeds on gold, and say that many have
been caught out of their famous river of Loire
out of whose 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. And they may think so with as good
reason as we do that our smelts smell like violets

at their first being caught, which I think is a
ii

1 62 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

truth. Aldrovandus says the salmon, the grayling,
and trout, and all fish that live in clear and sharp
streams, are made by their mother Nature of such
exact shape and pleasant colors, purposely to in-
vite us to a joy and contentedness in feasting with
her. Whether this is a truth or not, it is not my
purpose to dispute ; but 't is certain all that write
of the umber declare him to be very medicinable.
And Gesner says that the fat of an umber or gray-
ling being 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 Saint Ambrose, the
glorious Bishop of Milan, who lived when the
Church kept fasting-days, calls him the flower-fish,
or flower of fishes, and that he was so far in love
with him that he would not let him pass without
the honor of a long discourse ; but I must, and
pass on to tell you how to take this dainty fish.

First, note that he grows not to the bigness of a
trout, for the biggest of them do not usually ex-
ceed eighteen inches. He lives in such rivers as
the trout does, and is usually taken with the same
baits as the trout is, and after the same manner ;
for he will bite both at the minnow or worm or
fly, though he bites not often at the minnow, and
is very gamesome at the fly, and much simpler

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 163

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 parakita, a strange outlandish
bird ; and he will rise at a fly not unlike a gnat or
a small moth, or indeed at most flies that are not
too big. He is a fish that lurks close all winter,
but is very pleasant and jolly after mid-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 deli-
cate 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.

JFourtl)

CHAPTER VII.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE SALMON, WITH DIRECTIONS
HOW TO FISH FOR HIM.

DISC A TOR. The salmon is accounted the
king of fresh- water fish, and is ever bred in
rivers relating to the sea, yet so high or far from it
as admits of no tincture of salt or brackishness.
He is said to breed or cast his 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 office, 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 sam-
lets 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 stopped by
flood-gates or weirs, or lost in the fresh waters,

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 165

then those so left behind by degrees grow sick
and 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. It is 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 it is noted that those little salmons called
skeggers, which abound in many rivers relating to
the sea, are bred by such sick salmons that might
not go to the sea, and that though they abound,
yet they never thrive to any considerable bigness.
But if the old salmon gets to the sea, then that
gristle which shows him to be a kipper wears away
or is cast off, as the eagle is said to cast his bill,
and he recovers his strength and comes next sum-
mer to the same river, if it be possible, to enjoy the
former pleasures that there possessed him ; for as
one has wittily observed, he has, like some per-
sons of honor and riches, which have both their
winter and summer houses, the fresh rivers for
summer and the salt water for winter, to spend his
life in, — which is not, as Sir Francis Bacon hath
observed in his " History of Life and Death,"
above ten years. And it is to be observed that
though the salmon does grow big in the sea, yet
he grows not fat but in fresh rivers ; and it is ob-
served that the farther they get from the sea, they
be both the fatter and better.

1 66 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 themselves through
flood-gates or over weirs or hedges or stops in
the water, even to a height beyond common be-
lief. 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 fall is so down-
right and so high that the people stand and won-
der 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 " : —

ft 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 watery tract
Where Tivy, falling down, makes an high cataract,
Forced by the rising rocks that there her course oppose,
As though within her bounds they meant her to inclose,
Here, when the laboring 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,

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 6?

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
summersault of the salmon.

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

And as I have told you that Sir Francis Bacon
observes the age of a salmon exceeds not ten
years, so let me next tell you that his growth is
very sudden. It is said that after he is got into
the sea 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 ribbon 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, and then by tak-
ing 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 follow-
ing ; which has inclined many to think that every

1 68 THE COMPLETE ANGLER,

salmon usually returns to the same river in which
it was bred, as young pigeons taken out of the
same dove-cote 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 less able to endure a
winter in the fresh water than she is ; yet she is at
that time of looking less kipper and better, as
watery and as bad meat.

And yet you are to observe that as there is no
general rule without an exception, so there are
some few rivers in this nation that have trouts and
salmons in season in winter, as it is certain there
be in the river Wye in Monmouthshire, where they
be in season, as Camden observes, from September
till April. But, my scholar, the observation 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.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 169

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 garden
worm, 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 still
longer by keeping them cool and in fresh moss ;
and some advise to put camphor into it.

Note, also, that many use to fish for a salmon
with a ring of wire on the top of their rod, through
which the line may run to as great a length as
is needful when he is hooked. And to that end
some use a wheel about the middle of their rod or
near their hand, which is to be observed better by
seeing one of them than by a large demonstration
of words.

And now I shall tell you that which may be
called a secret. I have been a-fishing with old
Oliver Henly, now with God, a noted fisher both
for trout and salmon, 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

I/O THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 infusion,
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 Sir Francis Bacon's te Natural
History," where he proves fishes may hear, and
doubtless can more probably smell. And I am
certain Gesner says the otter can smell in the
water, and I doubt not but that fish may do so
too. It is left for a lover of angling, or any that
desires to improve that art, to try this conclusion.

I shall also impart two other experiments, but
not tried by myself, which I will deliver in the
same words that they were given me by an ex-
cellent 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 out of polypody
of the oak by a retort, mixed with turpentine and

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 171

hive-honey, and anoint your bait therewith, and it
will doubtless draw the fish to it."

The other is this : " Vulnera hederae grandis-
simse inflicta sudant balsamum oleo gelato, albi-
cantique persimile, odoris vero longe suavissimi." 1

T is supremely sweet to any fish, and yet assa-
fbetida may do the like.

But in these things I have no great faith, yet
grant it probable, and have had from some chemi-
cal men, namely, from Sir George Hastings and
others, an affirmation of them to be very advan-
tageous. 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 differ as we know a her-
ring and a pilchard do ; which I think are as dif-
ferent 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 my-
self to have.

And lastly, I am to borrow so much ot 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

1 "Slit the largest branches of an ivy tree, and it will yield
an oleaginous balsam, white in color and of a pleasing odor."

172 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

the other with such black or blackish spots as
give them such an addition of natural beauty as I
think was never given to any woman by the artifi-
cial paint or patches in which they so much pride
themselves in this age. And so I shall leave them
both, and proceed to some observations on the
pike.

jFourti)

CHAPTER VIII.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE LUCE, OR PIKE, WITH
DIRECTIONS HOW TO FISH FOR HIM.

pISCATOR. The mighty luce, or pike, is taken
to be the tyrant, as the salmon is the king, of
the fresh waters. 'T is not to be doubted but
that they are bred some by generation and some
not, — as namely of a weed called pickerel-weed,
unless learned Gesner be much mistaken ; for he
says this weed and other glutinous matter, with
the help of the sun's heat in some particular
months, and some ponds adapted for it by nature,
do become pikes. But, doubtless, divers pikes
are bred after this manner, or are brought into
some ponds some such other ways as are 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 fresh-water fish, and yet he computes it to
be not usually above forty years, and others think
it to be not above ten years ; and yet Gesner men-
tions a pike taken in Swedeland in the year 1449,
with a ring about his neck declaring he was put

174 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

into that pond by Frederick the Second, more
than two hundred years before he was last taken,
as by the inscription in that ring, being Greek,
was interpreted by the then Bishop of Worms.
But of this no more, but that it was 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 ob-
served 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 their life is maintained by the
death of so many other fish, even those of their
own kind ; which has made him by some writers
to be called the tyrant of the rivers, or the fresh-
water wolf, by reason of his bold, greedy, devour-
ing disposition, which is so keen that, as Gesner
relates, a man going to a pond, where it seems a
pike had devoured all the fish, to water his mule,
had a pike bite his mule by the lips, to which the
pike hung so fast that the mule drew him out of the
water, and by that accident the owner of the mule
angled out the pike. And the same Gesner ob-
serves that a maid in Poland had a pike bite her by
the foot as she was washing clothes in a pond. And
I have heard the like of a woman in Killingworth
pond, not far from Coventry. But I have been
assured by my friend Mr. Seagrave, of whom I
spake to you formerly, that keeps tame otters, that
he hath known a pike, in extreme hunger, fight

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1/5

with 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, and swallow a part of him,
and let the other part remain in his mouth till the
swallowed part be digested, and then swallow that
other part that was in his mouth, and so put it
over by degrees ; which is not unlike the ox and
some other beasts taking their meat, not out of
their mouth immediately into their belly, but first
into some place betwixt, and then chew it or
digest it by degrees after, which is called chewing
the cud. And doubtless pikes will bite when they
are not hungry, but, as some think, even for very
anger, when a tempting bait comes near to them.

And it is observed that the pike will eat veno-
mous 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 appears 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,

THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

and then, as ducks are observed to do to frogs in
spawning time, at which time some frogs are ob-
served 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 doubtless a pike
in his height of hunger will bite at and devour a
dog that swims in a pond ; and there have been ex-
amples of it, or the like, — for, as I told you, " The
belly has no ears when hunger comes upon it."

The pike is also observed to be a solitary, melan-
choly, and a bold fish ; melancholy, because he al-
ways swims or rests himself alone, and never swims
in shoals or with company, as roach and dace
and most other fish do ; and bold, because he
fears not a shadow, or to see or be seen of any-
body, as the trout and chub and all other fish do.

And it is observed by Gesner that the jaw-bones
and hearts and galls of pikes are very medicinable
for several diseases, or to stop blood, or abate
fevers, to cure agues, to oppose or expel the in-
fection of the plague, and to be many ways medi-
cinable and useful for the good of mankind. But
he observes that the biting of a pike is venomous
and hard to be cured.

And it is observed that the pike is a fish that
breeds but once a year, and that other fish, as
namely loaches, do breed oftener, as we are cer-
tain tame pigeons do almost every month ; and

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 177

yet the hawk, a bird of prey, as the pike is a fish,
breeds but once in twelve months. And you are
to note that his time of breeding or spawning is
usually about the end of February or somewhat
later in March, as the weather proves colder or
warmer ; and to note that his manner of breed-
ing is thus : a he and she pike will usually go to-
gether 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 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 eyes, and could not
forbear to tell the reader ; which was : —

" As he and the Bishop Thurzo were walking
by a large pond in Bohemia, they saw a frog, when
the pike lay very sleepily and quiet by the shore
side, leap upon his head ; and the frog, having ex-
pressed malice or anger by his swollen cheeks and
staring eyes, did stretch out his legs and em-
braced the pike's head, and presently reached

12

1/8 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

them to his eyes, tearing with them and his teeth
those tender parts. The pike, moved with an-
guish, moves up and down the water, and rubs
himself against weeds, and whatever he thought
might quit him of his enemy, but all in vain, for
the frog did continue to ride triumphantly, and to
bite and torment the pike, till his strength failed,
and then the frog sunk with the pike to the bot-
tom of the water. Then presently the frog ap-
peared again at the top and croaked, and seemed
to rejoice like a conqueror, after which he pres-
ently 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 fisher-
man 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 first book of Dubravius, unto a
friend, who replied, " It was as improbable as to
have the mouse scratch out the cat's eyes." But
he did not consider that there be fishing-frogs,
which the Dalmatians call the water-devil, of
which I might tell you as wonderful a story. But
I shall tell you that 't is not to be doubted but
that there be some 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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 1 79

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 for-
sake, 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 Dubra-
vius. I will therefore stop here, and tell you ac-
cording to my promise how to catch this pike.

His feeding is usually of fish or frogs, and some-
times a weed of his own called pickerel-weed. Of
which, I told you,, some think some pikes are bred ;
for 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

ISO THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

leave to the disquisition of men of more curiosity
and leisure than I profess myself to have ; and
shall proceed to tell you that you may fish for
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 in-
deed you must, take this course.

First, for your live bait. Of a 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,

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. l8l

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 ex-
perience 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.

Ven. But, good master, did you not say even
now, that some frogs were venomous, and is it not
dangerous to touch them?

Pise. Yes, but I will give you some rules or
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 colors, some being
speckled, some greenish, some blackish or brown.
The green frog, which is a small one, is by Topsell
taken to be venomous ; and so is the padock or
frog-padock, which usually keeps or breeds on the
land, and is very large and bony and big, espe-
cially 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 rain-

1 82 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

ing 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 padock-
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 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 Wonder-
ful 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, 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
baiting your ledger-hook with a live fish or frog,
my next must be to tell you how your hook thus
baited must or may be used, and it is thus : Hav-

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 183

ing 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 big-
ness 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 if you would
have this ledger-bait to keep at a fixed place, un-
disturbed 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 in-
tend 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

1 84 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 expecta-
tion 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 bait-
ing 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 told
me for a secret. It is this : —

Dissolve gum of ivy in oil of spike, and there-
with anoint your dead bait for a pike ; and then
cast it into a likely place, and when it has lain a
short time at the bottom, draw it towards the top
of the water and so up the stream : and it is more
than likely that you have a pike follow with more
than common eagerness.

And some affirm that any bait anointed with the

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 185

marrow of the thigh-bone of an heron is a great
temptation 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 somewhat the
better for not being common : but with my direc-
tion 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 mar-
joram, and a little winter-savory ; 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 mixed,
with a blade or two of mace, must be put into the
pike's belly, and then his belly so sewed up as to
keep all the butter in his belly if it be possible ; if
not, then as much of it as you possibly can : but
take not off the scales. Then you are to thrust

1 86 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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, mixed together ; and
also with what moisture falls from him into the
pan. When you have roasted him sufficiently, you
are to hold under him, when you unwind or cut
the tape that ties him, such a dish as you purpose
to eat him out off; 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 com-
plete. 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 into the pike with the oysters two
cloves of garlic, 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 garlic is left to your discretion. M. B.

This dish of meat is too good for any but an-
glers, 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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. l8/

are no pikes in Spain, and that the largest are in
the lake Thrasymene in Italy ; and the next, if not
equal to them, are the pikes of England ; and
that in England Lincolnshire boasteth to have the
biggest. Just so doth Sussex boast of four sorts
of fish ; namely, an Arundel mullet, a Chichester
lobster, 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 obser-
vations of the carp, and how to angle for him, and
to dress him, — but not till he is caught.

ttyt jfouttl)

CHAPTER IX.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE CARP, WITH DIRECTIONS
HOW TO FISH FOR HIM.

pISCA TOR. The carp is the queen of rivers, -
a stately, a good, and a very subtle fish, that was
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 turkeys, 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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 189

most hardness, and lives longest out of his own
proper element ; and therefore the report of the
carp's being brought out of a foreign country into
this nation is the more probable.

Carps and loaches are observed to breed several
months in one year, which pikes and most other
fish do not. And this is partly proved by tame
and wild rabbits, as also by some ducks, which
will lay eggs nine of the twelve months ; and yet
there be other ducks that lay not longer than
about one month. And it is the rather to be
believed, because you shall scarce or never take a
male carp without a melt, or a female without
a roe or spawn, and for the most part very
much, and especially all the summer season;
and it is observed that they breed more natu-
rally in ponds than in running waters, if they
breed there at all ; and that those that live in
rivers are taken by men of the best palates to be
much the better meat.

And it is observed that in some ponds carps
will not breed, especially in cold ponds; but
where they will breed they breed innumerably :
Aristotle and Pliny say six times in a year, if there
be no pikes nor 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. 'T is
said by Jovius, who hath writ of fishes, that in the

I9O THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

lake Lurian in Italy carps have thriven to be more
than fifty pounds' weight ; which is the more prob-
able, for as the bear is conceived and born sud-
denly, 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 't is observed too that he lives to the age of a
hundred years. And 't is also 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 saw 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 Eng-
land too.

Now, as the increase of carps is wonderful for
their number, so there is not a reason found out,
I think by any, why they should breed in some
ponds and not in others of the same nature for
soil and all other circumstances. And as their
breeding, so are their decays also very mysterious.
I have both read it, and been told by a gentle-
man 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 stolen 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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 191

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 has 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 said carps that the frog
would not be got off without extreme force or
killing. And the gentleman that did affirm this to
me told me he saw it ; and did declare his belief
to be, and I also believe the same, that he thought
the other carps that were so strangely lost were
so killed by frogs, and then devoured.

And a person of honor now living in Worces-
tershire 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

192 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

you be considerable. I shall therefore give you
three or four more short observations of the carp,
and then fall upon some directions how you shall
fish for him.

The age of carps is by Sir Francis Bacon, in his
"History of Life and Death," observed to be but
ten years, yet others think they live longer. Gesner
says a carp has been known to live in the Palati-
nate 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
flesh-like fish in their mouth like to a tongue, and
should be called a palate ; but it is certain it is
choicely good, and that the carp is to be reck-
oned amongst those leather-mouthed fish which I
told you have their teeth in their throat ; and for
that reason he is very seldom lost by breaking his
hold if your hook be once stuck into his chaps.

I told you that Sir Francis Bacon thinks that
the carp lives but ten years ; but Janus 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 generation that then three or four male carps
will follow a female, and that then, she putting on

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 193

a seeming coyness, they force her through weeds
and flags, where she lets fall her eggs or spawn,
which sticks fast to the weeds, and then they let
fall their melt upon it, and so it becomes in a
short time to be a living fish ; and, as I told you,
it is thought the carp does this several months in
the year ; and most believe that most fish breed
after this manner, except the eel. And it has been
observed that when the spawner has weakened
herself by doing that natural office, that two or
three melters have helped 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 make
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 't 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 to eat of caviare
made of the sturgeon, that being a fish that wants
scales, and, as may appear in Levit. xi. 10, by
them reputed to be unclean.

194 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

Much more might be said out of him and out
of Aristotle, which Dubravius often quotes in his
" Discourse of Fishes ; " but it might rather per-
plex 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 circum-
stances concerning him ; but yet I shall remember
you of what I told you before, that he is a very
subtle 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 color ; but you are to remember that I
have told you there is no rule without an excep-
tion ; and therefore being possessed with that hope
and patience which I wish to all fishers, espe-
cially 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 ;

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 195

and of worms I think the bluish marsh or meadow
worm is best ; but possibly another worm, not
too big, may do as well, and so may a green gen-
tle. And as for pastes, there are almost as many
sorts as there are medicines for the toothache ;
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 ;
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 mixed 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 purpose 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, 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

196 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

clean, 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 much,
white or yellowish wool.

And if you would have this paste keep all the
year for any other fish, then mix with it virgin-wax
and clarified honey, and work them together with
your hands before the fire ; then make these into
balls, and they will keep all the year.

And if you fish for a carp with gentles, then
put upon your hook a small piece of scarlet about
this bigness , it being soaked in, or anointed

with oil of peter, called by some oil of the rock ;
and if your gentles be put two or three days be-
fore 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 it 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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

discourse shall be of the bream, which shall not
prove so tedious, and therefore I desire the con-
tinuance 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 labor
and patience ; and though it is not without some
trouble and charges, yet it will recompense both.

Take a carp, alive if possible, scour him, and rub
him clean with water and salt, but scale him not ;
then open him and put him with his blood and
his liver, which you must save when you open
him, into a small pot or kettle ; then take sweet-
marjoram, thyme, and parsley, of each half a hand-
ful, a sprig of rosemary and another of savory ;
bind them into two or three small bundles, and
put them to your carp, with four or five whole
onions, twenty pickled oysters, and three ancho-
vies. 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 sufficiently
boiled ; then take out the carp, and lay it with
the broth into the dish, and pour upon it a quar-
ter 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 !

CHAPTER X.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE BREAM, AND DIRECTIONS
TO CATCH HIM.

pISCA TOR. 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 grow-
ing, but breeds exceedingly in a water that pleases
him ; yea, in many ponds so fast as to over-store
them and starve the other fish.

He is very broad, with a forked tail, and his
scales set in excellent order : he hath large eyes,
and a narrow sucking mouth ; he hath two sets of
teeth, and a lozenge-like bone, a bone to help his
grinding. The melter is observed to have two
large melts, and the female two large bags of eggs
or spawn.

Gesner reports that in Poland a certain and a
great number of large breams were put into a
pond, which in the next following winter were
frozen up into one entire ice, and not one drop of

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 199

water remaining, nor one of these fish to be found,
though they were diligently searched for ; and yet
the next spring when the ice was thawed and the
weather warm, and fresh water got into the pond,
he affirms they all appeared again. This Gesner
affirms, and I quote my author because it seems
almost as incredible as the resurrection to an
atheist. But it may win something in point of
believing it to him that considers the breeding or
renovation of the silkworm and of many insects.
And that is considerable which Sir Francis Bacon
observes in his " History of Life and Death,"
folio* 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

2OO THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

not unlike a maggot, at which bream will bite
freely. Or he will bite at a grasshopper with his
legs nipped 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 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 excel-
lent angler, and, hoping you will prove both, I
will impart it to you.

1. Let your bait be as big a red-worm as* you
can find without a knot : get a pint or quart of
them in an evening in garden-walks, or chalky
commons, after a shower of rain, and put them
with clean moss well washed and picked, and the
water squeezed out of the moss as dry as you can,
into an earthen pot or 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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 2OI

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 show 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 with-
out suspicion.

3. Having thus prepared your baits and fitted
your tackling, repair to the river, where you have
seen them to swim in skulls or shoals in the sum-
mer-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 broad-
est and deepest place of the river, and there or
near thereabouts, at a clear bottom and a conven-
ient landing-place, take one of your angles ready
fitted as aforesaid, and sound the bottom, which
should be about eight or ten feet deep ; two yards

202 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

from the bank is best. Then consider with your-
self 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 found and fitted for the place
and depth thereof, then go home and prepare
your ground-bait ; which is, next to the fruit of
your labors, to be regarded.

The Ground-Bait.

You shall take a peck or a peck and a half, ac-
cording to the greatness of the stream and deep-
ness of the water where you mean to angle, of
sweet gross-ground barley malt, and boil it in a
kettle ; one or two worms is enough ; then strain
it through a bag into a tub, the liquor whereof
hath often done my horse much good ; and when
the bag and malt is near cold, take it down to the
water-side about eight or nine of the clock in the
evening, and not before ; cast in two parts of your
ground-bait squeezed hard between both your
hands ; it will sink presently to the bottom, and
be sure it may rest in the very place where you
mean to angle ; if the stream run hard or move a
little, cast your malt in handfuls a little the higher,
upwards the stream. You may, between your

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 2O3

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 per-
ceive 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 never-
theless be not too hasty to run to your rods until
you see that the line goes clear away ; then creep
to the water-side, and give as much line as possi-
bly 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,

2O4 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 ; and will repair to your ground-bait,
not that they will eat of it, but will feed and sport
themselves amongst 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 sometimes 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 morn-
ing till eight, and if it be a gloomy, windy day,
they will bite all day long. But this is too long to

THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 fattest.

Observe, lastly, that after three or four days'
fishing together, your game will be very shy and
wary, and you shall hardly get above a bite or two
at a baiting ; then your only way is to desist
from your sport about two or three days ; and in
the mean time, on the place you late 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

2O6 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

or trencher, make a hole in the middle thereof,
and through the turf, placed on the board or
trencher, with a string or cord as long as is fitting,
tied to a pole, let it down to the bottom of the
water for the fish to feed upon without disturb-
ance about two or three days ; and after that you
have drawn it away, you may fall to, and enjoy
your former recreation. B. A.

jfourtl)

CHAPTER XI.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE TENCH, AND ADVICE HOW
TO ANGLE FOR HIM.

pISCATOR. The tench, the physician of
fishes, is observed to love ponds better than
rivers, and to love pits better than either. Yet
Camden observes there is a river in Dorsetshire
that abounds with tenches, but doubtless they re-
tire 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 color, 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 unusual manner by certain Jews.
And it is observed that many of those people
have many secrets yet unknown to Christians, —

208 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 profana-
tion. 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 at-
tained 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 physic and divinity
that think themselves fit to meddle with hidden
secrets, and so bring destruction to their follow-
ers. But I '11 not meddle with them any further
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

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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 taste him. And I shall there-
fore 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 mixed, 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 that I have
not often angled for, but I wish my honest scholar
may, and be ever fortunate when he fishes.

jFourti)

CHAPTER XII.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE PERCH, AND DIRECTIONS
HOW TO FISH FOR HIM.

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, which is
armed with sharp and stiff bristles, and all his skin
armed or covered over with thick, dry, hard scales,
and hath, which few other fish have, two fins on
his back. He is so bold that he will invade one
of his own kind, 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
Aldrovandus, and especially the least are there es-
teemed a dainty fish, And Gesner prefers the
perch and pike above the trout, or any fresh-
water fish. He says the Germans have this prov-
erb, " More wholesome than a perch of Rhine ; "
and he says the river-perch is so wholesome that

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 211

physicians allow him to be eaten by wounded men,
or by men in fevers, or by women in childbed.

He spawns but once a year, and is by physi-
cians held very nutritive ; yet by many, to be hard
of digestion. 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 for-
eign parts sold by apothecaries, 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-bit-
ing fish ; yet he will not bite at all seasons of the

212 THE COMPLETE ANGLER,

year. He is very abstemious 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 mulberry-
tree buds, that is to say, till extreme frosts
be past the spring : for when the mulberry-tree
blossoms many gardeners observe their forward
fruit to be past the danger of frosts ; and some
have made the like observation of the 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
dung-hill worm, called a brandling, I take to be
best, being well scoured in moss or fennel ; or he
will bite at a worm that lies under cow-dung with
a bluish head. And if you rove for a perch with
a minnow, then it is best to be alive, you sticking
your hook through his back fin ; or a minnow

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 213

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 fas-
tened 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.

Ven. 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.

Pise, 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?

Ven. Yes, master, I will speak you a copy of
verses that were made by Dr. Donne, and made
to show the world that he could make soft and
smooth verses, when he thought smoothness worth
his labor ; and I love them the better, because
they allude to rivers and fish and fishing. They
be these : —

214 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

" 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, whispering, run,
Warmed by the eyes more than the sun,
And there the enamel'd fish will stay,
Begging themselves they may betray.

" When thou wilt swim in that live bath,
Each fish, which every channel hath,
Most am'rously to thee will swim,
Gladder to catch thee than thou him.

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

" Let others freeze with angling-reeds,
And cut their legs with shells and weeds;
Or 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 fishes' wandering eyes :

" For thee, thou need'st no such deceit,
For thou thyself 'art thine own bait ;
That fish that is not catch't thereby,
Is wiser far, alas ! than I."

Pise. Well remembered, honest scholar. I
thank you for these choice verses, which I have
heard formerly, but had quite forgot till they were

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recovered by your happy memory. Well, being I
have now rested myself a little, I will 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 honey-
suckle hedge.

CHAPTER XIII.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE EEL. AND OTHER FISH THAT
WANT SCALES, AND HOW TO FISH FOR THEM.

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 dif-
fer about their breeding : some say they breed by
generation, as other fish do ; and others that they
breed, as some worms do, of mud, — as rats and
mice and many other living creatures are bred in
Egypt, by the sun's heat when it shines upon the
overflowing of the river Nilus, — or out of the putre-
faction 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 them
spawn ; for they say that they are certain that eels
have all parts fit for generation, like other fish, but
so small as not to be easily discerned, by reason of
their fatness, but that discerned they may be, and
that the he and the she eel may be distinguished by

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their fins. And Rondeletius says he has seen eels
cling together like dew-worms.

And others say that eels, growing old, breed
other eels out of the corruption of their own age,
which, Sir Francis Bacon says, exceeds not ten
years. And others say that as pearls are made of
glutinous dew-drops, 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 Canter-
bury, some parts of it covered over with young eels,
about the thickness 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 Venerable Bede to say
that in England there is an island called Ely, by
reason of the innumerable number of eels that
breed in it. But that eels may be bred as some
worms and some kind of bees and wasps are,

2l8 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 Lo-
bel, and also by our learned Camden and labori-
ous Gerard in his Herbal.

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, be-
cause I am certain that powdered beef is a most ex-
cellent 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," men-
tions a lamprey belonging to the Roman emperor
to be made tame, and so kept for almost three-
score 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 Dr. Hakewill, that Hor-
tensius was seen to weep at the death of a lam-
prey 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 and down,
neither in the rivers, nor in the pools in which
they usually are, but get into the soft earth or
mud ; and there many of them together bed
themselves, and live without feeding upon any-

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thing, as I have told you some swallows have been
observed to do in hollow trees for those cold six
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
Lancashire fishes were digged out of the earth
with spades, where no water was near to the place.
I shall say little more of the eel, but that, as it is
observed he is impatient of cold, so it hath been
observed that in warm weather an eel has been
known to live five days out of the water.

And lastly, let me tell you that some curious
searchers into the natures of fish observe that there
be several sorts or kinds of eels : as the silver eel,
and green or greenish eel, with which the river of
Thames abounds, and those are called grigs ; and a
blackish eel, whose head is more flat and bigger than
ordinary eels ; and also an eel whose fins are reddish
and but seldom taken in this nation, and yet taken
sometimes. These several kinds of eels are, say
some, diversely bred ; and namely, out of the cor-
ruption of the earth, 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

220 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 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 prac-
tical part of angling than a week's discourse.

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I shall therefore conclude this direction for tak-
ing the eel, by telling you that in a warm day
in summer I have taken many a good eel by
sniggling, and have been much pleased with that
sport.

And because you that are but a young angler
know not what sniggling is, I will now teach it to
you. You remember I told you that eels do not
usually stir in the daytime, for then they hide
themselves under some covert, or under boards or
planks about floodgates, or weirs, or mills, or in
holes in the river-banks ; so that you, observing
your time in a warm day, when the water is low-
est, 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 that 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
his tail, break all, unless you give him time to be
wearied with pulling, and so get him out by de-
grees, not pulling too hard.

And to commute for your patient hearing this

222 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 mixed 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 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 dressed be not only excellent good, but more
harmless than any other way, yet it is certain that

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physicians account the eel dangerous meat. I
will advise you, therefore, as Solomon says of
honey (Prov. xxv. 16), "Hast thou found it, eat
no more than is sufficient, lest thou surfeit, for it
is not good to eat much honey." And let me
add this, that the 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 fre-
quent 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 es-
teem 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

224 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 ex-
cellent 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 Lan-
cashire 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 fifteen or sixteen inches in length, and
't 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.

JFouttl)

CHAPTER XIV.

OBSERVATIONS OF THE BARBEL, AND DIRECTIONS
HOW TO FISH FOR HIM.

niSCATOR. The barbel is so called, says Ges-
ner, by reason of his barb or wattels 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 fe-
male, whose spawn is very hurtful, as I will pres-
ently 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 in
IS

226 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

the sands with his nose like a hog, and there nests
himself; yet sometimes he retires to deep and
swift bridges, or floodgates, 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 labor 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 that dwell near to the river, with
their hands, eight or ten load at a time. He
says they begin to be good in May, and that they
cease to be so in August, but it is found to be
otherwise in this nation ; but thus far we agree
with him, that the spawn of a 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

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ill effect upon them, even to the endangering of
their lives.

This 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
worst or coarsest of fresh-water fish. But the bar-
bel 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 Plu-
tarch in his book " De Industria Animalium ; "
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

228 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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, as 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 Au-
gust, and I believe it : but doubtless the lob-worm
well scoured, and the gentle not too 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 con-
clusions, 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
favor 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

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see what interest the trouts will pay us for letting
our angle-rods lie so long and so quietly in the
water for their use. Come, scholar, which will
you take up?

Ven. Which you think fit, master.

Pise. Why, you shall take up that ; for I am
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
toward our lodging, andv drink a draught of red-
cow's milk as we go, and give pretty Maudlin and
her honest mother a brace of trouts for their
supper.

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

Pise. God speed you, good woman ! I thank
you both for our songs last night : I and my com-
panion have had such fortune a-fishing this day
that we resolved to give you and Maudlin a brace
of trouts for supper, and we will now taste a
draught of your red-cow's milk.

Milkw. 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 hay-cock and eat
it ; and Maudlin shall sit by and sing you the good
old song of the " Hunting in Chevy Chace," or

23O THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

some other good ballad, for she hath store of
them. Maudlin, my honest Maudlin, hath a nota-
ble memory, and she thinks nothing too good for
you, because you be such honest men.

Ven. We thank you, and intend once in a
month to call upon you again, and give you a
little 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.

Pise. I will, honest scholar.

CHAPTER XV,

OBSERVATIONS OF THE GUDGEON, THE RUFFE, AND
THE BLEAK, AND HOW TO FISH FOR THEM.

DISC A TOR, The gudgeon is reputed a. fish of
excellent taste and to be very wholesome ; he is
of a fine shape, of a silver color, 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 excel-
lent nourishment ; the Germans call him ground-
ling, 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 from off 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 or rot, and the weather colder,
then they gather together and get into the deeper

232 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

parts of the water, and are to be fished for there,
with your hook always touching the ground, if you
fish for him with a float or with a cork. But many
will fish for the gudgeon by hand with a running-
line upon the ground, without a cork, as a trout is
fished for ; and it is an excellent way if you have a
gentle rod and as gentle a hand.

There is also another fish, called a pope, and by
some a 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
will not grow to be bigger than a gudgeon. He is
an excellent fish, no fish that swims is of a pleasanter
taste, and he is also excellent to enter a young
angler, for he is a greedy biter, and they will
usually lie, abundance of them together, in one re-
served place, where the water is deep and runs
quietly ; and an easy angler, if he has found where
they lie, may catch forty or fifty, or 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 ob-
serve 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, so does the bleak at the top of the water.
Ausonius would have him called bleak from his
whitish color : his back is of a pleasant sad or sea-

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 233

water green, his belly white and shining as the
mountain snow. And, doubtless, though he 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
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
color 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 hern
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 stuff, so big as she cannot
fly away with it, — a line not exceeding two
yards.

jfourt!) Day*

CHAPTER XVI.

IS OF NOTHING, OR THAT WHICH IS NOTHING
WORTH.

pISCATOR. My purpose was to give you some
directions concerning roach and dace, and
some other inferior fish which make the angler ex-
cellent sport, for you know there is more pleasure
in hunting the hare than in eating her ; but I will
forbear at this time to say any more, because you
see yonder come our brother Peter and honest
Coridon. But I will promise you that as you and
I fish and walk to-morrow towards London, if I
have now forgotten anything that I can then re-
member, I will not keep it from you.

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 drink, and be as quick as you can, for
I believe we are all very hungry. Well, brother
Peter and Coridon, To you both ! come, drink,
and then tell me what luck of fish. We two have
caught but ten trouts, of which my scholar caught
three. Look, here 's eight, and a brace we gave

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 235

away. We have had a most pleasant day for fish-
ing and talking, and are returned home both weary
and hungry, and now meat and rest will be
pleasant.

Peter. And Coridon and I have had not an un-
pleasant day, and yet I have caught but five trouts ;
for indeed we went to a good honest alehouse,
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 supper with what haste you
may. And when we have supped, let us have your
song, Piscator, and the catch that your scholar
promised us, or else Coridon will be dogged.

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

Ven. And I hope the like for my catch, which I
have ready too ; and therefore let 's go merrily to
supper, and then have a gentle touch at singing
and drinking, but the last with moderation.

Cor. Come, now for your song, for we have fed
heartily. Come, hostess, lay a few more sticks on
the fire, and now sing when you will.

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

Oh, the gallant fisher's life,
It is the best of any ;

236 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

'T is full of pleasure, void of strife,
And 't is beloved by many :
Other joys
Are but toys,
Only this
Lawful 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.

We have gentles in a horn,

We have paste and worms too ;

We can watch both night and morn,
Suffer rain and storms too.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

None do here
Use to swear,
Oaths do fray
Fish away ;
We sit still,
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.

Ven. Well sung, master ! This day's fortune and
pleasure, and this 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

238 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

from talking with me, that he might be so perfect
in this song. Was it not, master?

Pise. 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 by the help of mine own in-
vention, who am not excellent at poetry, as my
part of the song may testify ; but of that I will say
no more, lest you should think I mean by discom-
mending it to beg your commendations of it. And
therefore, without replications, let 's hear your catch,
scholar, which I hope will be a good one, for you
are both musical and have a good fancy to boot.

Ven. Marry, and that you shall, and as freely as
I would have my honest master tell me some more
secrets of fish and fishing as we walk and fish
towards London to-morrow. But, master, first let
me tell you that that very hour which you were ab-
sent from me, I sat down under a willow-tree by the
water-side, and considered what you had told me
of the owner of that pleasant meadow in which
you then left me : that he had a plentiful estate,
and not a heart to think so ; that he had at this
time many law-suits depending, and that they both
damped his mirth and took up so much of his
time and thoughts that he himself had not leisure
to take the sweet content that I, who pretended
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 colors ;
looking on the hills, I could behold them spotted

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 239

with woods and groves ; looking down the mead-
ows, could see here a boy gathering lilies and
lady-smocks, and there a girl cropping culverkeyes
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 from
the place make all dogs that hunt in it to fall off,
and to lose their hottest scent. I say, as I thus
sat, joying in my own happy condition, and pitying
this poor rich man that owned this and many
other pleasant groves and meadows about me, I
did thankfully remember what my Saviour said, —
that the meek possess the earth, or rather they
enjoy what the other possess and enjoy not ; for
anglers, and meek, quiet-spirited men are free
from those high, those restless thoughts which cor-
rode the sweets of life, and they, and they only,
can say as the poet has happily expressed 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 cer-
tain verses in praise of a mean estate and an hum-
ble mind. They were written by Phineas Fletcher,
an excellent divine and an excellent angler, and
the author of excellent Piscatory Eclogues, in

240 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

which you shall see the picture of this good man's
mind ; and I wish mine to be like it.

" No empty hopes, no courtly fears him fright,
No begging wants his middle-fortune bite,
But sweet content exiles both misery and spite,
His certain life, that never can deceive him,

Is full of thousand sweets and rich content ;
The smooth-leaved beeches in the field receive him

With coolest shade, till noontide's heat be spent:
His life is neither tossed in boisterous seas,
Or the vexatious world, or lost in slothful ease :
Pleased and full blessed he lives, when he his God can
please.

44 His bed, more safe than soft, yields quiet sleeps,

While by his side his faithful spouse hath place ;
His little son into his bosom creeps,

The lively picture of his father's face.
His humble house or poor state ne'er torment him :
Less he could like, if less his God had lent him ;
And when he dies, green turfs do for a tomb content
him."

Gentlemen, these were a part of the 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.

THE ANGLER'S SONG.

Man's life is but vain ;
For 't is subject to pain
And sorrow, and short as a bubble;

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 241

'T is 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-morrow,
And angle and angle again.

Peter. I marry, sir, this is music indeed ! This
has cheered my heart, and made me to remember
six verses in praise of music, which I will speak
to you instantly.

" Music ! miraculous rhetoric I that speak'st sense
Without a tongue, excelling eloquence;
With what ease might thy errors be excused,
Wert thou as truly loved as thou 'rt abused !
But though dull souls neglect, and some reprove thee,
I cannot hate thee, 'cause the Angels love thee ! "

Ven. And the repetition of these last verses of
music have called to my memory what Mr. Ed-
mund Waller, a lover of the angle, says of love and
music.

" Whilst I listen to thy voice,

Chloris, I feel my heart decay ;
That powerful 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
16

242 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

To heaven may go :

For all we know
Of what the blessed do above
Is that they sing and that they love."

Pise. 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 t' other cup
and to bed, and thank God we have a dry house
over our heads.

Pise. Well, now, good night to everybody.

Peter. And so say I.

Ven. And so say I.

Cor. Good night to you all ; and I thank you.

Pise. Good morrow, brother Peter ! and the
like to you, honest Coridon. Come, my hostess
says there is seven shillings to pay : let 's each man
drink a pot for his morning's draught, and lay down
his two shillings ; that so my hostess may not have
occasion to repent herself of being so diligent, and
using us so kindly.

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 for-
tune. Come, Coridon, this is our way.

JFtftl)

CHAPTER XVII.

OF ROACH AND DACE, AND HOW TO FISH FOR
THEM ; AND OF CADIS.

J7ENATOR. 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.

Pise. Well, scholar, that I will ; and I will hide
nothing from you that I can remember, and can
think may help you forward towards a perfection
in this art. And because we have so much time,
and I have said so little of roach and dace, I will
give you some directions concerning them.

Some say the roach is so called from rutilus,
which, they say, signifies red fins. He is a fish of
no great reputation for his dainty taste ; and his
spawn is accounted much better than any other
part of him. And you may take notice that as the
carp is accounted the water-fox for his cunning, so
the roach is accounted the water-sheep for his sim-
plicity or foolishness. It is noted that the roach
and dace recover strength, and grow in season in

244 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

a fortnight after spawning ; the barbel and chub in
a month ; the trout in four months ; and the salmon
in the like time, if he gets into the sea, and after
into fresh water.

Roaches be accounted much better in the river
than in a pond, though ponds usually breed the
biggest. But there is a kind of bastard small roach
that breeds in ponds, with a very forked tail, and of
a very small size, which some say is bred by the
bream and right roach, and some ponds are stored
with these 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 fat-
test 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 the 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 Derbyshire,
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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 245

with a little lead to the bottom near to the 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 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 some-
times 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 ; l 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 labor, 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 matter of feeding,
cunning, goodness, and usually in size. And there-
fore take this general direction for some other
baits which may concern you to take notice of.
They will bite almost at any 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
1 The finest white rolls. — NARES.

246 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

month of June ; or if that be too early in the year,
then doubtless you may find them in July, August,
and most of September. Gather them alive, with
both their wings, and then put them into a glass that
will hold a quart or a pottle ; but first put into the
glass a handful or more of the moist earth out of
which you gather them, and as much of the roots of
the grass of the said hillock ; and then put in the
flies gently, that they lose not their wings. Lay a
clod of earth over it, and then so many as are put
into the glass without bruising will live there a month
or more, and be always in a 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 quan-
tity 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-hallontide, 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 mag-
gots, 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.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 247

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 first to be
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 a day before you use them, you will find
them an excellent bait for bream, carp, or indeed
for almost any fish.

And after this manner you may also keep gen-
tles 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 gen-
tles 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

248 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 some-
what soft, which you may try by feeling it betwixt
your finger and thumb ; and when it is soft, then
put your water from it : 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 off from it, and yet leaving a kind of in-
ward husk on the corn, or else it is marred ; and
then cut off 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 off a very little of the other end, that
so your hook may enter; and if your hook be
small and good, you will find this to be a very
choice bait, either for winter or 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 COMPLETE ANGLER. 249

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 grow-
ing 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 received and used with great confidence ;
and yet, upon inquiry, I found it did not answer
the expectation of Sir Henry, — which, with the
help of this and other circumstances, makes me
have but little belief in such things as many men
talk of. Not but that I think fishes both smell
and hear, as I have expressed in my former dis-
course ; but there is a mysterious knack, which,
though it be much easier than the philosopher's
stone, yet is not attainable by 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. But let me nevertheless tell you
that camphor put with moss into your worm-bag
with your worms, makes them, if many anglers be

250 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 pur-
pose I will go with you either to Mr. Margrave,
who dwells amongst the booksellers in St. Paul's
Churchyard, or to Mr. John Stubbs, near to the
Swan in Golding Lane ; they be both honest
men, and will fit an angler with what tackling he
lacks.

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

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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 2$l

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

Ven. 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 re-
quital of your pains, by repeating as choice a copy
of verses as any we have heard since we met to-
gether ; and that is a proud word, for we have
heard very good ones.

Pise. Well, scholar, and I shall be then right
glad to hear them. And I will, as we walk, tell
you whatsoever 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 blackberries which grow
upon briers be good baits for chubs or carps : with
these many have been taken in ponds, and in

252 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

some rivers where such trees have grown near the
water, and the fruit customarily dropped 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.

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 kingfisher's nest can, which is made
of little fishes' bones, and have such a geometrical
interweaving and connection as the like is not to
be done by the art 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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 253

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 hedgehog. These three cadises
are commonly taken in the beginning of summer,
and are good indeed to take any kind of fish with
float or otherwise. I might tell you of many more,
which as these do early, so those have their time
also of turning to be flies later in summer ; but I
might lose myself and tire you by such a dis-
course : 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 professes to be an angler has not leisure
to search over ; 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, or of what,
this cadis receives life, or what colored fly it turns

254 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 show 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, 't 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 of their composure ; and if
you shall 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 any 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 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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 2$$

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 ; and this noble emula-
tion I wish to you and all young anglers.

CHAPTER XVIII.

OF THE MINNOW, OR PENK, OF THE LOACH, AND
OF THE BULL-HEAD, OR MILLER;S-THUMB.

plSCATOR. There be also three or four other
little fish that I had almost forgot, that all
are without scales, and may, for excellence 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 't is observed mice and many of the
smaller four-footed creatures of the earth do ; and
as those, so these come quickly to their full
growth and perfection. And it is needful that
they breed both often and numerously ; for they
be, besides other accidents of ruin, both a prey
and baits for other fish. And first I shall tell you
of the minnow, or penk.

The minnow hath, when he is in perfect season
and not sick, — which is only presently after spawn-
ing, — a kind of dappled or waved color, like to a
panther, on his sides, inclining to a greenish and
sky-color, his belly being milk-white, and his back
almost black or blackish. He is a sharp biter at

THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

a small worm, and in hot weather makes excel-
lent sport for young anglers, or boys, or women
that love that recreation. And in the spring they
make of them excellent minnow-tansies ; for, be-
ing 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 yolks 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. This loach is not unlike the shape of the
eel ; he has a beard or wattels 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-toadfish, for his similitude and shape. It
17

258 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

has a head, big and flat, much greater than suit-
able 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 ; 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 be-
gin 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, melancholy months. 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 him-
self, 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 re-
fuses 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.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 2 59

There is also a little fish called a stickleback, —
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 sum-
mer, but only to make sport for boys and women-
anglers, and to feed other fish that be fish of
prey, — as trouts in particular, who will bite at him
as at a penk ; and better, if your hook be rightly
baited with him, — for he may be so baited as, his
tail turning like the sail of a windmill, will make
him turn more quick than any penk or minnow
can. For note that the nimble turning of that,
or the minnow, is the perfection of minnow fish-
ing. To which end, if you put your hook into
his mouth and out at his tail, and then, having
first tied him with a 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 stickleback a little
more crooked or more straight on your hook, un-
til 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, pro-
vided the loach be not too big.

And now, scholar, with the help of this fine
morning and your patient attention, I have said

26O THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

all that my present memory will afford me, con-
cerning most of the several fish that are usually
fished for in fresh waters.

Ven. 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 discourse
of rivers and fish and fishing ; the time spent in
such discourse passes away very pleasantly.

jFiftl)

CHAPTER XIX.

OF SEVERAL RIVERS, AND SOME OBSERVATIONS
OF FISH.

pISCATOR. Well, scholar, since the ways
and weather do both favor us, and that we
yet see not Tottenham Cross, you shall see my will-
ingness 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 Dorchester in Oxfordshire ;
the issue of which happy conjunction is the Tha-
misis, or Thames. Hence it flieth betwixt Berks,
Buckinghamshire, Middlesex, Surrey, Kent, and
Essex, and so weddeth himself to the Kentish
Medvvay in the very jaws of the ocean. This glori-
ous river feeleth the violence and benefit of the sea

262 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

more than any river in Europe, — ebbing and flow-
ing twice a day more than sixty miles ; about
whose banks are so many fair towns and princely
palaces that a German poet thus truly spake : —

" Tot campos, etc.

" We saw so many woods and princely bowers,
Sweet fields, brave palaces, and stately towers ;
So many gardens, dressed 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 Montgomeryshire, and his end seven miles
from Bristol ; washing in the mean space the walls
of Shrewsbury, Worcester, 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 Stafford-
shire, and gliding through the counties of Notting-
ham, 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 to-
gether ; namely, your Derwent, and especially of
Ouse and Trent ; and (as the Danow, having re-
ceived into its channel the rivers Dravus, Savus,
Tibiscus, and divers others) changeth his name
into this of Humberabus, as the old geographers
call it.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 263

4. Medway, a Kentish river, famous for har-
boring the royal navy.

5. Tweed, the northeast bound of England,
on whose northern banks is seated the strong and
impregnable town of Berwick.

6. Tyne, famous for Newcastle, and her inex-
haustible coal-pits. These, and the rest of prin-
cipal note, are thus comprehended in one of Mr.
Dray ton's sonnets : —

" Our floods' queen, Thames, for ships and swans is
crowned ;

And stately Severn for her shore is praised ;
The crystal Trent for fords and fish renowned ,

And Avon's fame to Albion's cliffs is raised.
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 Thame ;

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 dis-
courses 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

264 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

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 beholden for many of the choicest
observations that I have imparted to you. This
good man, that dares do anything rather than tell
an untruth, did, I say, tell me he lately dissected
one strange fish, and he thus described it to me :

" The 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 movable 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 't is 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 that river
leaves on the banks, when it falls back into its

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 26$

natural channel, such strange fish and beasts are
also bred that no man can give a name to, as
Grotius, in his " Sophom," 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 plen-
tiful, as namely near to Yarmouth in Norfolk, and
in the west-country pilchers so very plentiful, as
you will wonder to read what our learned Camden
relates of them in his " Britannia," pp. 178, 186.

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

CHAPTER XX.

OF FISH-PONDS, AND HOW TO ORDER THEM.

pISCATOR. Dr. Lebault, the learned French-
man, in his large discourse of " Maison Rus-
tique," 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, 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
burned, before they be driven into the earth ; for
being thus used, it preserves them much longer
from rotting. And having done so, lay fagots or
bavins 1 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

1 Small fagots of light brushwood.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 267

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

Then he advises that you plant willows or owlers l
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 de-
stroy them ; especially the spawn of the carp and
tench, when 't is 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 re-
freshed 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 large 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 ex-
treme 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.
1 Poplars.

268 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

'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-reeds, as water-lilies, candocks,1 reate,2
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 greed-
ily 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 sometime 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 in to them chippings of bread, curds,
grains, or the entrails of chickens, or of any fowl
or beast that you kill to feed yourselves ; for these
afford fish a great relief. He says that frogs and
ducks do much harm, and devour both the spawn
and the 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

1 A species of dog-grass growing in rivers.

2 The sedge or water-flag.

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 269

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, and that garden-earth and parsley
thrown into a pond recovers and refreshes the sick
fish. And note that when you store your pond,
you are to put into it two or three melters for one
spawner, if you put them into a breeding-pond j
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 marie-pits, or
pits that have clean clay-bottoms, or in new ponds,
or ponds that lie dry a winter -season, than in old
ponds that be full of mud and weeds.

Well, scholar, I have told you the substance of
all that either observation or discourse or a dili-

2/O THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

gent 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
therefore put an end to this discourse, and we will
here sit down and rest us.

JFiftt)

CHAPTER XXI.

DIRECTIONS FOR MAKING OF A LINE, AND FOR THE
COLORING OF BOTH ROD AND LINE.

pISCATOR. Well, scholar, I have held you too
long about these cadis, and smaller fish, and
rivers, and fish-ponds ; and my spirits are almost
spent, and so, I doubt, is your patience : but being
we are now almost at Tottenham, where I first met
you, and where we are to part, I will lose no time,
but give you a little direction how to make and order
your lines, and to color 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 com-
modity, and should be preserved from the water
soaking into it, which makes it in wet weather to be
heavy, and fish ill-favoredly, and not true ; and also
it rots quickly for want of painting : and I think a
good top is worth preserving, or I had not taken
care to keep a top above twenty years.

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-color,

272 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

will prove as strong as three uneven, scabby hairs,
that are ill-chosen, and full of galls or unevenness.
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-color 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 ; and being

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cold, put your hair into it, and there let it lie : it
will turn your hair to be a kind of water or glass-
color or greenish ; and the longer you let it lie,
the deeper-colored it will be. You might be
taught to make many other colors, but it is to
little purpose, — for doubtless the water-color or
glass-colored hair is the most choice and most
useful for an angler ; but let it not be too green.

But if you desire to color 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 hav-
ing 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 color ; 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 doubtless the pale
green is best. But if you desire yellow hair,
which is only good when the weeds rot, then put
in the more marigolds, and abate most of the
copperas, or leave it quite out, and take a little
verdigris instead of it. This for coloring your hair.
18

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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-color ; then strike your size upon
the wood with a bristle, or a brush, or pencil,
whilst it is hot. That being quite dry, take white-
lead and a little red-lead and a little coal-black,
so much as all together will make an ash-color ;
grind these all together 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 color 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 color be thoroughly dry
before you lay on a second.

Well, scholar, having now taught you to paint
your rod, and we having still a mile to Tottenham
High-Cross, I will, as we walk towards it, in the
cool shade of this sweet honeysuckle hedge, men-
tion 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 thank-
ful for it, I will beg you to consider with me

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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 of 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 unsupportable burden of an ac-
cusing, tormenting conscience, — a misery that
none can bear, and therefore let us praise Him
for his preventing grace, and say, Every misery
that I miss is a new mercy. Nay, let me tell you,
there be many that have forty times our estates,
that would give the greatest part of it to be health-
ful and cheerful like us, who, with the expense of
a little money, have eat, and drank, 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 neighbor,
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 con-

2/6 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

siders not that 't is not in the power of riches to
make a man happy ; for it was wisely said, by a
man of great observation, " That there be as many
miseries beyond riches as on this side them."
And yet God deliver us from pinching poverty,
and grant that, having a competency, we may be
content 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 happi-
ness ; few consider him to be like the silkworm,
that, when she seems to play, is at the very same
time spinning her own bowels, and consuming
herself. And this many rich men do ; loading
themselves with corroding cares, to keep what they
have, probably, unconscionably got. Let us, there-
fore, be thankful for health and a competence,
and, above all, for a quiet conscience.

Let me tell you, scholar, that Diogenes walked
on a day, with his friend, to see a country-fair,
where he saw ribbons and looking-glasses and
nut-crackers and fiddles and hobby-horses, and
many other gimcracks ; and having observed them,
and all the other finnimbruns that make a com-
plete 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

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might be so, with very many who vex and toil
themselves to get what they have no need of.
Can any man charge God, that he hath not given
him enough to make his life happy? No, 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 neighbor, for not worshipping or
not flattering him ; and thus, when we might be
happy and quiet, we create trouble to ourselves.
I have heard of a man that was angry with himself
because he was no taller ; and of a woman that
broke her looking-glass because it would not show
her face to be as young and handsome as her next
neighbor'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 lawsuit with a dogged
neighbor, who was as rich as he, and had a wife
as peevish and purse-proud as the other : and
this lawsuit begot higher oppositions, and action-
able words, and more vexations and lawsuits ; for
you must remember that both were rich, and must
therefore have their wills. Well, this wilful, purse-
proud lawsuit lasted during the life of the first
husband ; after which his wife vexed and chid, and

278 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

chid and vexed, till she also chid and vexed her-
self into her grave : and so the wealth of these
poor rich people was cursed 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 family to be re-
moving from one house to another ; and being
asked by a friend why he removed so often from
one house to another, replied, " It was to find
content in some one of them." But his friend,
knowing his temper, told him, if he would find
content in any of his houses, he must leave him-
self 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 Saint Matthew's Gospel ; for he there says,
"Blessed be the merciful, for they shall obtain
mercy. Blessed be the pure in heart, for they shall
see God. Blessed be the poor in spirit, for theirs
is the kingdom of heaven." And, "Blessed
be the meek, for they shall possess the earth."
Not that the meek shall not also obtain mercy,
and see God, and be comforted, and at last come
to the kingdom of heaven ; but in the mean time
he, and he only, possesses the earth as he goes
toward that kingdom of heaven, by being humble
and cheerful, and content with what his good
God has allotted him. He has no turbulent, re-
pining, vexatious thoughts, that he deserves bet-

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 279

ter ; nor is vexed when he sees others possessed
of more honor or more riches than his wise God
has allotted for his share ; but he possesses what
he has with a meek and contented quietness, —
such a quietness as makes his very dreams pleasing
both to God and himself.

My honest scholar, all this is told to incline you
to thankfulness and to incline you the more, let
me tell you that though the prophet David was
guilty of murder and adultery, and many other of
the most deadly sins, yet he was said to be a man
after God's own heart, because he abounded more
with thankfulness then 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 labor 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 not us 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

28O THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

upon the sun when it was in his full glory, either
at the rising or setting of it, he would be so trans-
ported 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 va-
rious 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 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 labor to possess my own
soul, — that is, a meek and thankful heart. And
to that end I have showed you that riches without
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
endeavor 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." Therefore be sure you look to
that. And in the next place look to your health ;

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 281

and if you have it, praise God, and value it next
to a good conscience ; for health is the second
blessing that we mortals are capable of, a blessing
that money cannot buy, and therefore value it and
be thankful for it. As for money, which may be
said to be the third blessing, neglect it not ; but
note that there is no necessity of being rich : for I
told you there be as many miseries beyond riches
as on this side them ; and if you have a compe-
tence, enjoy it with a meek, cheerful, thankful
heart. I will tell you, scholar, I have heard a
grave Divine say that God has two dwellings, —
one in heaven and the other in a meek and thank-
ful heart, which Almighty God grant to me and
to my honest scholar ! And so you are welcome
to Tottenham High-Cross.

Ven. Well, master, I thank you for all your
good directions, but for none more than this last
of thankfulness, which I hope I shall never forget.
And pray, now, let 's rest ourselves in this sweet,
shady arbor, which Nature herself has woven with
her own fine fingers ; 't is such a contexture of
woodbine, sweetbrier, jessamine, and myrtle, and
so interwoven, as will secure us both from the
sun's violent heat and from the approaching
shower. And being sat down, I will requite a 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-
body but us anglers. And so, master, here is a
full glass to you of that liquor ; and when you have

282 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

pledged me, I will repeat the verses which I prom-
ised you : it is a copy printed amongst 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 strained sardonic smiles are glozing still,
And grief is forced 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,
Or the pure azured 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 blustering care could never tempest make;

Nor murmurs ere come nigh us,

Saving of fountains that glide by us.

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" Here 's no fantastic masque, nor dance,
But of our kids that frisk and prance;

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 ploughshare gives the ground.

" Here are no 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, 'less 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 morn
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.

" Blest silent groves ! Oh, may you be
Forever mirth's best nursery !
May pure contents
Forever pitch their tents
Upon these downs, these meads, these rocks, these

mountains,

And peace still slumber by these purling fountains.
Which we may every year
Meet when we come a-fishing here "

284 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

Pise. Trust me, scholar, I thank you heartily
for these verses ; they be choicely good, and
doubtless made by a lover of angling. Come,
now, drink a glass to me, and I will requite you
with another very good copy ; it is a Farewell to
the Vanities of the World, and some say, written
by Sir Harry Wotton, who I told you was an ex-
cellent angler. But let them be writ by whom
they will, he that writ them had a brave soul, and
must needs be possessed with happy thoughts at
the time of their composure.

" Farewell, ye gilded follies, pleasing troubles!
Farewell, ye honored rags, ye glorious bubbles !
Fame 's but a hollow echo; gold, pure clay ;
Honor, the darling but of one short day ;
Beauty, th' eye's idol, but a damasked skin ;
State, but a golden prison to live in
And torture free-born minds : embroidered trains
Merely but pageants for proud swelling veins ;
And blood allied to greatness, is alone
Inherited, not purchased, nor our own.

Fame, Honor, Beauty, State, Train, Blood, and

Birth
Are but the fading blossoms of the earth.

" I would be great, but that the sun doth still
Level his rays against the rising hill ;
I would be high, but see the proudest oak
Most subject to the rending thunder-stroke;
I would be rich, but see men too unkind
Dig in the bowels of the richest mine ;
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

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 285

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 ; scorned if poor ;

Great feared ; fair tempted ; high still envied more, —
I have wished 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 l with India ; with a speaking eye
Command bare heads, bowed knees, strike justice dumb,
As well as blind and lame ; or give a tongue
To stones by epitaphs ; be called 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 winged people of the sky shall sing
My cheerful anthems to the gladsome spring:
A prayer-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-faced fears-
Then here I '11 sit, and sigh my hot love's folly,
And learn t' affect an holy melancholy ;

And, if Contentment be a stranger, then
I Ml ne'er look for it but in heaven again."

1 " Angel," a coin of the value of ten shillings.

286 THE COMPLETE ANGLER.

Ven. 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 Saint Austin, in his Confessions, Book IV.
Chap. 3, commemorates the kindness of his friend
Verecundus, for lending him and his companion a
country-house, because there they rested and en-
joyed themselves free from the troubles of the
world ; so, having had the like advantage, both by
your conversation and the art you have taught me,
I ought ever to do the like : for indeed your com-
pany and discourse have been so useful and pleas-
ant 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 ninth
of May, for then I hope again to enjoy your be-
loved company 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 hon-
ored so much for being philosophers as to honor
philosophy by their virtuous lives. You advised
me to the like concerning angling, and I will en-

THE COMPLETE ANGLER. 287

deavor 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 resolu-
tion. And as a pious man advised his friend that
to beget mortification he should frequent churches
and view monuments and charnel-houses, and then
and there consider how many dead bones 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 Al-
mighty God, I will walk the meadows by some
gliding stream, and there contemplate the lilies
that take no care, and those very many other
various little living creatures that are not only
created, but fed, man knows not how, by the
goodness of the God of Nature, and therefore
trust in him. This is my purpose ; and so " Let
everything that hath breath praise the Lord : "
and let the blessing of Saint Peter's Master be with
mine.

Pise. 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. — i Thes. iv. 1 1 .

THE END.

rB 10618