Piscator
The Salmon is accounted the King of freshwater 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 Samlets early in the spring next following.
The Salmons having spent their appointed time, and done this natural
duty in the fresh waters, they then haste to the sea before winter, both
the melter and spawner; but if they be stopped by flood-gates or weirs, or
lost in the fresh waters, then those so left behind by degrees grow sick
and lean, and unseasonable, and kipper, that is to say, have bony
gristles grow out of their lower chaps, not unlike a hawk's beak, which
hinders their feeding; and, in time, such fish so left behind pine away
and die. 'Tis observed, that he may live thus one year from the sea; but
he then grows insipid and tasteless, and loses both his blood and
strength, and pines and dies the second year. And 'tis noted, that those
little Salmons called Skeggers, which abound in many rivers relating to
the sea, are bred by such sick Salmons that might not go to the sea, and
that though they abound, yet they never thrive to any considerable
bigness.
But if the old Salmon gets to the sea, then that gristle which shews him
to be kipper, wears away, or is cast off, as the eagle is said to cast
his bill, and he recovers his strength, and comes next summer to the
same river, if it be possible, to enjoy the former pleasures that there
possess him; for, as one has wittily observed, he has, like some persons
of honour and riches which have both their winter and summer houses, the
fresh rivers for summer, and the salt water for winter, to spend his
life in; which is not, as Sir Francis Bacon hath observed in his History
of Life and 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 observed, that the farther they get from the
sea, they be both the fatter and better.
Next, I shall tell you, that though they make very hard shift to get out
of the fresh rivers into the sea yet they will make harder shift to 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 floodgates, or over weirs, or hedges, or stops
in the water, even to a height beyond common belief. Gesner speaks of
such places as are known to be above eight feet high above water. And
our Camden mentions, in his Britannia, the like wonder to be in
Pembrokeshire, where the river Tivy falls into the sea; and that the
fall is so downright, and so high, that the people stand and wonder at
the strength and sleight by which they see the Salmon use to get out of
the sea into the said river; and the manner and height of the place is
so notable, that it is known, far, by the name of the Salmon-leap.
Concerning which, take this also out of Michael Drayton, my honest old
friend; as he tells it you, in his Polyolbion:
And when the Salmon seeks a fresher stream to find;
(Which hither from the sea comes, yearly, by his kind,)
As he towards season grows; and stems the watry tract
Where Tivy, falling down, makes an high cataract,
Forc'd by the rising rocks that there her course oppose,
As tho' within her bounds they meant her to inclose;
Here when the labouring fish does at the foot arrive,
And finds that by his strength he does but vainly strive;
His tail takes in his mouth, and, bending like a bow
That's to full compass drawn, aloft himself doth throw,
Then springing at his height, as doth a little wand
That bended end to end, and started from man's hand,
Far off itself doth cast, so does that 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 riband, or some known tape or thread, in the tail
of some young Salmons which have been taken in weirs as they have
swimmed towards the salt water; and then by taking a part of them again,
with the known mark, at the same place, at their return from the sea,
which is usually about six months after; and the like experiment hath
been tried upon young swallows, who have, after six months' absence,
been observed to return to the same chimney, there to make their nests
and habitations for the summer following; which has inclined many to
think, that every Salmon usually returns to the same river in which it
was bred, as young pigeons taken out of the same dovecote have also been
observed to do.
And you are yet to observe further, that the He-salmon is usually bigger
than the Spawner; and that he is more kipper, and less able to endure a
winter in the fresh water than the She is: yet she is, at that time of
looking less kipper and better, as watry, and as bad meat.
And yet you are to observe, that as there is no general rule without an
exception, so there are some few rivers in this nation that have Trouts
and Salmon in season in winter, as 'tis 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 peek,
or with a fly.
And you are to observe, that he is very seldom observed to bite at a
minnow, yet sometimes he will, and not usually at a fly, but more
usually at a worm, and then most usually at a lob or 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 longer by keeping them cool, and in
fresh moss; and some advise to put camphire into it.
Note also, that many used to fish for a Salmon with a ring of wire on
the top of their rod, through which the line may run to as great a
length as is needful, when he is 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 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 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 know not but that fish may do so too. 'Tis left for a lover
of angling, or any that desires to improve that art, to try this
conclusion.
I shall also impart two other experiments, but not tried by myself,
which I will deliver in the same words that they were given me by an
excellent angler and a very friend, in writing: he told me the latter
was too good to be told, but in a learned language, lest it should be
made common.
"Take the stinking oil drawn out of polypody of the oak by a retort,
mixed with turpentine and hive-honey, and anoint your bait therewith,
and it will doubtless draw the fish to it."
The other is this: "Vulnera hederae grandissimae inflicta sudant
balsamum oleo gelato, albicantique persimile, odoris vero longe
suavissimi".
"'Tis supremely sweet to any fish, and yet assa foetida may do the
like."
But in these I have no great faith; yet grant it probable; and have had
from some chymical men, namely, from Sir George Hastings and others, an
affirmation of them to be very advantageous. But no more of these;
especially not in this place.
I might here, before I take my leave of the Salmon, tell you, that there
is more than one sort of them, as namely, a Tecon, and another called in
some places a Samlet, or by some a Skegger; but these, and others which
I forbear to name, may be fish of another kind, and differ as we know a
Herring and a Pilchard do, which, I think, are as different as the
rivers in which they breed, and must, by me, be left to the
disquisitions of men of more leisure, and of greater abilities than I
profess myself to have.
And lastly, I am to borrow so much of your promised patience, as to tell
you, that the trout, or Salmon, being in season, have, at their first
taking out of the water, which continues during life, their bodies
adorned, the one with such red spots, and the other with such black or
blackish spots, as give them such an addition of natural beauty as, I
think, was never given to any woman by the artificial 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 of the Pike.
The fourth day-continued
On the Luce or Pike