p. 212

204 [handwritten]

LONDON ANGLING.

April 14th 1873 [handwritten]

THE number of fishing clubs and "piscatorial societies" in London is at
present very large and is consantly on the increase. The attempts made at
pisciculture, if they have not as yet resulted in the capture of a salmon
from the Thames Embankment, cannot be said to have failed. It is con-
fidently believed by a good many anglers that the trout have increased
in quantity in our chief river, and that but for the voracity of the swans
they would be found in such numbers as to render it unnecessary to
report that one was detected feeding on a particular date within a stone's
throw of Hampton Bridge. That trout should breed and multiply in the
Thames is a consummation most devoutly to be wished : the fact would
be a guarantee for the improved purity of the water. Wherever trout or
salmon are to be had there is an assurance that the river to which they
resort has not been contaminated by sewage. At the same time other
conditions besides those of cleanliness are requisite for a trout and salmon
stream, and it is doubtful whether the Thames naturally satisfies these
requirements. Swift. rocky, as well as deep waters, form the usual haunts
of both trout and salmon, and in comparison with the most valuable and
thickly populated rivers the Thames is sluggish and not sufficiently
broken or interrupted. However, nothing but good can come of the effort
to make the Thames a retreat for more delicate and fastidious fish than
the pike or the perch.

The average Thames angler does not rest his hopes of sport in trout.
He is content with smaller or rather rougher quarry. He has invented the
art of roach fishing and reduced the capture of the gudgeon to a science.
Men who are accustomed to the Tay, the Shannon, or the Blackwater
can neither comprehend his enthisiasm nor give him credit for the skill he
certainly possesses. Appearances, it is admitted, are against him. His punt,
his arm-chair, his balls of ground-bait, his frequent want of success, have
afforded subjects enough for caricature and for jest. His French brother
on the Seine has to endure the same sort of persecution. The artists
of the Parisian papers have given many pictures of their Mr. Briggs. But the
London angler is appreciated in his own circle. He is the member of a club,
and the weight of his captures will be entered upon its minutes as formally
as the Scotch newspapers announce the stalking of the stag by the duke
or the prince. And he can enjoy his day's outing thoroughly. As a rule
he belongs to the City. His periods of relaxation do not occur too often
to deprive them of a keen zest and relish. He is not blind to the charms
of scenery surveyed through a thin haze of tobacco smoke, with perhaps
a glass of ale to temper more aesthetic emotions with a feeling of com-
fortable indifference to everything. Then a fish will come to the hook
sometimes, to arouse the spirit of sport; the [gaudia certaminis, in italics] inspired
by triumph over the cunning of a fish perhaps nearly twice the size of a
tenpenny nail. The pike is the real monarch of the Thames waters.
It is of the pike that the best London fish stories are told. But, unfor-
tunately, the pike cannot be fairly fished for in spring or summer weather,
and so in the more agreeable season the London angler is reduced to more
diminutive game. Among the town clubs, where a room is devoted once
a week or once a fortnight to the discussion of angling, where the walls
are hung round with trophies of the prowess of the members, the pike
holds generally the most prominent position as the show beast of the
institution. At these gatherings the conversation is of fish and of
fishing. The prospects of procuring another preserve, the venality
or roguery of keepers, the cost of cutting the weeds, the difficulty
of dealing with the proprietor of a paper mill, the comforts or discomforts
of the particular inn patronized by the members, are matters of profound
debate and dispute. These are very harmless palavers, although the
atmosphere in which they are conducted would be uncomfortable to a
tobacco teetotaller. A tradition of a parliament of the kind is extant
relative to an account by the president of a monster pike which he said
had "rushed at him like a bull-dog." On subsequent investigation it turned
out that this fierce water-tiger was made of wood, and had been anchored
outside his hotel by a cunning landlord who had his account in the number
of honest anglers who tried to capture this deceitful effigy. Exchange
anecdotes of this character are to be heard by the score at the piscatorial
haunts. And our London anglers have also their feasts and high festivals,
and form altogether communities and guilds with very marked and
peculiar characteristics. and with a common bond of union between
them, the hope of catching fish, which is not without a pathetic interest
for a student or observer of their ways and means, their habits and
manners.

[Pall Mall, handwritten]