[1] On this part of the piscicultural question I had the following conversation with a pÊcheur who has a little place in the suburbs of Strasbourg, on the road to the Bridge of Boats:—

“By your system you collect the eggs of fish in the rivers of Switzerland and Germany, either from the spawning-beds, or direct from the parents, which are then barbarously killed and sold, as we were told at Huningue, and the eggs may be sent off to enrich some private speculator in the north of France. Now, will not the rivers from whence the spawn is taken be impoverished in their turn?”

“Oh, no; it is considered by the piscicultural system that we only obtain that portion of the spawn that would otherwise be lost.”

“What do you think is the proportion of young salmon that arrives at marketable size under the ordinary conditions of growth?”

“It is very small. An eighteen-pound fish will yield eighteen thousand eggs. Well, one-third of these will in all probability escape the fecundating principle of the milt, another third most likely will never come to life—the eggs will either be destroyed from natural causes or be eaten up by other fish; so that you see only six thousand, or one-third of the whole eggs, will ever come to life.”

“Well, that is so far good; but you do not protect the infant fish at all, you only insure the transmission of the eggs from Huningue.”

“Yes; but the eggs are more than half the battle. Out of eighteen thousand salmon-ova you will, by giving protection, hatch at least fifteen thousand fish; and then these won’t be sent into the water till they are well able to take care of themselves, and fight the battle of life.”

“Supposing it to be as you say, and that you can rear the fish in remunerative quantities, will not an extension of the piscicultural system ultimately injure the breed?”

“I don’t think it will. We have been carrying out the system in France now on a lesser or greater scale for more than twenty years, and I can hear of no damage being done to the fish.”

[2] As I assisted personally at the exodus of 1861, I subjoin a brief report of what took place from the Perth Courier:—

“On Saturday last, Mr. Buist, accompanied by Mr. Bertram of Edinburgh and other gentlemen, visited the ponds of Stormontfield, for the purpose of ascertaining the state of the fish and giving instructions as to the liberation of the smolts. For eight days past the keeper had observed strong indications of a desire for freedom on the part of a considerable proportion of his finny wards, and numbers had gone into the runlet which leads to the reservoir by the side of the river where the fish were formerly caught and marked. When the party arrived they found a good many of the fish in the reservoir, being those which had sought egress during the night. The smolts were large and in fine condition; and one fish, which has been detained for three years for the purpose of discovering whether the species will grow in fresh water without being permitted to visit the sea, was found to be fully twice the size of the largest smolt. A number of parrs, too, of the same age as the smolts, and spawned of the same parents, were found about the size of minnows, and bearing the parr-mark distinctly defined. On seeing the state of matters, Mr. Buist gave instructions for removing the sluices, and allowing those bent on migration to have their liberty without being marked this season. A considerable number at once sought the river, and no impediment will now be placed in the way of a free migration. The ova of which the present fry is the produce were placed in the boxes at various times during the period from 15th November to 13th December 1859; and the departure of the smolts commenced on the 18th instant. The whole fry—amounting, it is estimated, to somewhat approaching 200,000 fish—is the produce of 19 male and 31 female salmon. The anomaly of one-half of the fry reaching the condition of smolts, and leaving the ponds when only a year old, and the other half remaining, has been hitherto supposed to be accounted for upon the supposition of the earlier fish being the produce of salmon, while the later were that of grilse. The experiment of this year sets that question at rest by negativing the supposition. Mr. Buist gave orders in November 1859 that none but salmon should be taken for the purposes of the ponds. The result is the same anomaly. Although all the fry this year in the ponds are the produce of salmon, as is usual only a moiety of them have yet attained to the condition of smolts, while the remainder have all the appearance of continuing parrs as before. This is perhaps the most important feature in the operations of the year. In the early part of the year 1860, from the unfavourable nature of the season for hatching, the whole brood seemed particularly stunted and ill-grown, and it was hardly expected that any of them would become smolts this year at all. About a month ago, however, early fears were dispelled; a goodly portion of the fry began to approach the smolt state, and since the beginning of May have been putting on their silvery livery, and now are fully as far advanced as those in the open river.”

[3] “In order that the public may understand what a vast number of fish 770,000 would be, I would mention that it has been calculated by ‘the chronicler,’ Mr. James Lowe, that the number of human beings assembled to welcome the arrival of the Princess of Wales was 700,000: imagine a salmon for each human being, and you will have an idea of the number of fish Mr. Ashworth has hatched out as a stock for his fisheries.”—Lecture by Mr. Buckland.

[4] Since the above was written intelligence has been received in England of the loss, by escape into the river (which would be no loss), or the death, or more truly “mysterious disappearance” of a large number of the fry—only five hundred being left in the pond. These have been allowed to make their escape into the river, and we may yet hope to hear of their safety and welfare. I hope those interested will lose no time, now that they know the way to success, in sending out another batch of eggs, so as to ensure the sending into the river of a few thousand young fish.

[5] In a very old number of the Scots Magazine I find the following:—“I was told by a gentleman who was present at a boat’s fishing on Spey near Gordon Castle in the month of April, that in hauling, the weight of the net brought out a great number of smolts which the fishers were not willing to part with; but that a gentleman, who knew the natural propensity of the salmon to return to their native river, persuaded them to slip them back again into the water, assuring them that in two months they would catch most of them full-grown grilses, which would be of much greater value. He at the same time laid a bet of five guineas with another gentleman present, who was somewhat dubious, that he should not fail in his prediction. The fishers agreed. He accordingly clipt off a part of the tail-fins from a number of them before he dropped them into the river; and within the time limited the fishers actually caught upwards of a hundred grilses thus marked, and soon after many more.”

[6] The Rhine is an excellent salmon stream and yields a large number of fish. The five fishing stations at Rotterdam are very productive, each of them yielding about 40,000 salmon per annum; and it would not be extravagant to estimate the produce of these fisheries as of the value of £25,000 per annum.

[7] The French government took off the import-duty on salmon in 1856, when foul salmon began to be exported to that country during the British close-times at the rate of £7000 per annum. A late writer in Fraser’s Magazine was informed by a leading fish-salesman, on the 16th November, that on that day ten tons of Tweed salmon, freshly caught, were in Billingsgate, two months after close-time, and despite of what was thought to be effective special legislation for that river!

[8] As an example of the numerous absurd statements that have been circulated about fish, the reader may study the following paragraph:—“Old fishermen about Dunbar say the way herring spawn is—first, the female herrings deposit their roe at some convenient part on sand or shingly bottom; second, the male fish then spread their milt all over the roe to protect it from enemies, and the influence of the tide and waves from moving it about. The fishermen also say that when the young herrings are hatched they can see and swim; the milt covering bursts open, and they are free to roam about. Some naturalists think the roes and milts of herring are all mixed together promiscuously, and left on the sands to bud and flourish. The fishermen’s idea seems to be the most likely of the two opinions.”

[9] “We understand that about 100 boats have been engaged to fish at Fraserburgh from Portsoy, Portknockie, Buckie, and Portgordon, and the other fishing villages. The exact terms of engagement we subjoin as follows, from an authoritative source. The terms are—15s. per cran, with £15 bounty, £2 for lodgings, £l as earnest-money, with cartage of nets, and net ground. The cartage of nets and net ground costs £3: 10s. to £4, so that the terms are equal to 15s. per cran, and £21: 10s. to £22 in full of bounty.”—Banff Journal.

[10] Since the above was written, the report by the commissioners for 1864 has been published, but the figures differ so slightly from those of 1863 that it is unnecessary to give them in detail, the total quantity of herrings cured being a decrease of 11,166¼ barrels, while, as regards boats and men employed, there was an increase of 140 boats, 126 fishermen and boys, and of £29,931 in the estimated value of boats and nets. The winter herring-fishery on the north-east coast about Wick, Lybster, and Helmsdale, was, contrary to expectation, quite unsuccessful. The probable cause was the very boisterous state of the weather, which prevented the boats from getting to sea. This year, therefore, affords no evidence either for or against the opinion that herrings exist in sufficient quantities to render a winter herring-fishery remunerative upon the coasts during the winter months.

[11] A correspondent has favoured me with the following brief account of the sillock-fishing as carried on in Shetland:—“Sillocks are the young of the saith, and they make their appearance in the beginning of August about the small isles, and are of the size of parrs in Tweed. They continue about said isles for a few weeks, and in the months of September and October, and sometimes longer, they hover about the small isles, when the fishermen catch them for the sake of their liver, which contains oil. One boat of twelve feet of keel will sometimes catch as many as thirty bushels in a part of a day, and this year (1864), owing to the high price of oil, each bushel was worth about 1s. 6d. The fish itself is taken to the dung-hill when the take is not great, but when there is a great take the liver is taken out and the fish thrown into the sea. There are no Acts of Parliament against using the net; but after some time the sillocks leave the isles and draw to the shore, where there are any edge-places. It is allowed that the island of Whalsey is about the best place in Shetland for the fish to draw to, but whenever they come there, the proprietor, Mr. Bruce, will not allow “pocking,” as a week would finish them all; but the people must all fish with the rod, so that each man may get as many as keep him a day or two. The “pocking” sets them all out, but the fish don’t mind the rod; it is very picturesque to see perhaps fifty men sitting round the basin with their rods, and the sillocks covering about a rood of the sea, varying from three to six feet deep, and so close together that you would think they could not get room to stir. They will continue plentiful till the end of April, at which time they take to the deep sea; and when they make their appearance the following year they are about four times larger, and are then called piltocks. But these are only taken by the rod. Mr. Bruce just says, If you pock, you cannot be my tenant; so they must either give up the one or the other, and by that way of doing every household has as many of these small fish as they can make use of during the winter.”

[12] In the Firth of Forth mussels are collected all the year round, but they invariably fall off in condition during a prevalence of easterly winds.

[13] A Barking trawler usually carries 5 men and 3 boys, and costs when in full work £12 per week. A Hull trawler costs much less, and the owner has less risk; because the crew, from the captain downwards, share in the catch. The Barking men refuse to enter into this arrangement, which probably helps to account for the decay of the Barking fishery, for that of Hull is comparatively prosperous. The co-operative system prevails among a few of the fisher people of England. In an account of a Yorkshire fishing-place recently published in Once a Week, the following statistics of the cost of boats, etc., are given:—

“Each yawl, varying in tonnage from 28 to 45 tons, costs from £600 to £650, and is divided into shares; of its earnings 3s. 6d. in the pound are paid to the owner or owners, 10s. are devoted to the current expenses, and the remainder is divided among the men who find the bait. When a new boat is required, several persons—gentlemen speculators, harbour-masters, etc., and boatmen—take certain shares of it, which vary in amount from a half-quarter to a half of the cost; application is then made to a builder, sail-maker, anchor-maker, and other tradesmen; and the vessel, in due time, is paid for, equipped, and given over to the owners. Each lugger-yawl carries two masts, and is provided with three sets of sails to suit various states of weather. The foresail contains 200 or 250 yards, the mizen 100, and the mizen-topsail 40 yards; the lesser sizes being severally of 100, 60, and 50 yards. The jib is very small. On the average the yawl is of 40 tons, and measures 51 feet keel, or 55 feet over all, and is of 17 or 18 feet beam; drawing 6½ feet water aft, and 5 feet forward. The amount of ballast varies from 20 to 30 tons. The yawl is provided with 120 nets, each of which costs £30. Half of this number are left on shore, and changed at the end of every 12 weeks. The crew is composed of 7 men and 2 boys. For instance, the ‘Wear,’ commanded by Colling, a first-rate seaman, carries two others, like himself part-owners, 4 men receiving, besides their food, £1, and 1 boy at 18s., and another at 11s. a week; each fisherman, who is a net-owner, receives 24s. a week. The expenses in wages and wear and tear are calculated at from £12 to £15 weekly. The herrings are valued at £2 per 1000 on an average. Sometimes 23,000 fish are caught in a single haul, occasionally as many as 60,000, but 40,000 are considered a good catch. To remunerate the crew, £50 or £60 a week ought to be obtained. Each net is 10 fathoms long, and is sunk 9 fathoms during the fishing, the upper part being floated by a long series of barrels, which are fitted at intervals of 15 fathoms. The warps used for laying out the nets in each vessel measure 2200 yards. Two men take up the nets, two empty the fish out of them, and one boy stows the nets while his fellow stows the warps, which are raised by a windlass worked by the men. Each net weighs about 28 pounds. In order to preserve the nets and sails, it is necessary at frequent intervals to cover them with tanning, which is prepared in large coppers. These coppers cost £40.”

On the Gulf of St. Lawrence the engagements of fishermen are as follows:—

“The fishermen are brought to the fishing-station at the expense of the firm engaging them. They are furnished with a good fishing-boat, thoroughly fitted, and are besides supplied with fresh bait as long as it can be got, and they require it, but on payment of a sum of $6 to $8; and for each 100 codfish delivered on the stage they receive the sum of 5s. 6d., one half in money and the other half in goods and provisions. At these prices, and fish being abundant, fishermen earn $5, $10, $15, and even $20 a day; and after an absence of from 6 to 9 weeks, bring home from $80 to $120, and sometimes more. But they have to board themselves; and if the fish is not abundant, their account of the provisions lent to their families before their departure, their own board, the purchase of their lines, take up the greatest part of their earnings, and they very often return to Magdelen Islands with empty pockets.” Great quantities of all kinds of fish are found in the St. Lawrence.

[14] Mr. Ashworth, in a communication to Mr. Barry, one of the Commissioners of Irish Fisheries, says: “No charge is made for the oyster-parks, but each plot is marked and defined on a map, and the produce is considered to be the private property of the person who establishes it. They vary in size twenty or thirty yards square, the stone or tiles are placed in rows about five feet apart, with the ends open so as to admit of the wash of the tide in and out.”

[15] Since the above observations were penned it is satisfactory to know that the Town Council of Edinburgh have begun an investigation into the state of their oyster-scalps. An official report has been made to the following effect:—“The sub-committee of the Lord Provost’s committee beg to report that, from the inquiries made by them, there can be no doubt whatever that the city’s scalps, by the improper way in which they have been dredged, are at present nearly worthless, vast quantities of the seeding brood of oysters having been dredged and sold for exportation to England and other places; that, in these circumstances, the sub-committee are of opinion that, if possible, the lease which the Free Fishermen have obtained should be reduced, so as the town may have henceforth complete control, and with that view the agents should be instructed to take the opinion of counsel; but if that cannot be done, that immediate steps should be taken, by a conference with the Duke of Buccleuch, Sir George Suttie, the Earl of Morton, and the Commissioners of Woods and Forrests—to whom, along with the city, all the scalps in the Forth belong—to have the whole oysters in the Forth placed under one management for their joint behoof. At present the rules made by any one of the proprietors become wholly inoperative from the fact that when improper oysters are brought ashore, the fishermen at once declare that they are taken from other scalps than those of the party challenging; and, particularly, that they have been taken from what they call neutral ground, which belongs to the Government, and for that they pay no rent. It is proper to say that the respectable portion of the Society of Free Fishermen profess their readiness to aid in restoring the city scalps to a proper condition, and in keeping them right hereafter; and they produce a letter from their agents, Messrs. Gardiner, to that effect, along with a copy of a minute of the society.”

[16] The following information as to the colour and structure of the pearl may interest the general reader:—

Sir Robert Reading, in a letter to the Royal Society dated October 13, 1688, in speaking of Irish pearls, states that pearls, if once dark, will never clear upon any alteration in the health or age of the mussel. This Mr. Unger stoutly contradicts; he shows by many specimens that some of the finest Scotch pearls are perfectly dark inside. The theory put forth by Sir Everard Home, that the peculiar lustre so much valued in the pearl arises from the centre, is thereby upset. There is no doubt Sir David Brewster is correct in his statement on that point in the Edinburgh EncyclopÆdia. Some writers assert that irregular pearls may be rounded. This of course is erroneous: they are, as everybody knows, formed in layers like an onion, and these layers being cut across would be exposed in such a manner that even the highest polish would not hide them. It is, however, quite possible in many instances to improve a bad-coloured pearl by removing one or more of the coats; and in this way many a pearl of comparatively trifling value has been turned into a gem of rare beauty. The best way to distinguish a real pearl from an imitation one is to take a sharp knife and gently try to scrape it: if imitation the knife will glide over the surface without making any impression, it being glass, and a real pearl will not be injured by a gentle hand. Pieces of shells are, however, extensively used and sold as pearls. They are cut into shapes closely resembling half pearls, and mounted in various ways, so that many professed judges have been deceived. These are easily to be distinguished by their iridescent lustre from the true pearl, which has but one distinct tint.

[17] I have culled the following account of a fisherman’s wedding-dance from an excellent provincial journal. The solemnisation of a marriage is a great event in the village, and when one occurs it is customary to invite nearly all the adult population to attend. The ceremony is mostly always performed in the church, and it not unfrequently happens that at some of the marriages the whole lower part of the church is well packed with the marriage-train. The Collieston weddings are remarkable for the hilarity which ensues after the company return from the ceremony. After a sumptuous dinner the company adjourn to the links to a place which is smooth and level, and which lies at no very great distance from the Coast-Guard station at the end of the sands of Forvie, and there, to the inspiriting strains of the violin, dance the ancient, picturesque, and intricate “Lang Reel o’ Collieston”—a reel danced by their forefathers and each succeeding generation from time immemorial. To those who are fond of “tripping the light fantastic toe,” and who never had the fortune to see it danced, it would doubtless be interesting were we to give a description of this “The Lang Reel o’ Collieston;” but, although fond of that sort of exercise, we do not boast professional skill, and consequently are unacquainted with the technical names of the various movements in this particular department of the worship of Terpsichore. We may, however, mention that, as indicated by its name, the lang reel o’ Collieston is a lang reel in a double sense. It is of long duration and lengthy in its dimensions, for all the wedding party join in dancing the “lang reel.” It is commenced by the bride and her “best man,” and pair after pair link into its links as the dance proceeds, until all have linked themselves into it, and then pair after pair drop off, as in some country-dances, until none are left dancing but the bride and “best man” who commenced it. As may be supposed, this extended saltatory effort is rather trying for the bride; and we heard one sonsy wife of forty declare, in recapitulating the share she had on her wedding-day, that “the back of
her legs didna cour (recover) the lang reel for a month afterwards.” The dance movement is very curious. The dancers “reel, set, and cross, and cleek,” and change places in such a way as to take them by degrees from the head of the dance to the foot, and back to the head again, and so on, the whole being like the links of a chain when reeling. When the couples are dancing, the lang reel o’ Collieston looks like a series of common Highland reels, and it is in the reeling that the peculiarity and intricacy of indescribableness of the dance exists. This reel is quite indispensable at marriages, and after it has been danced other reels and dances are enjoyed and kept up with very great spirit—natural and imbibed; and to see the lang reel o’ Collieston danced on the greensward under the blue canopy of heaven, on a sweet afternoon in summer, is a treat worth going many miles to enjoy. Not only would the eye enjoy a rare feast, but what with the sweet music of the violin, the merry song of the lark in mid-heaven right overhead, the ringing guffaws of the juvenile spectators, the clapping of hands, and the loud hoochs or whoops of the dancing fishermen, all commingling and commingled with the murmur of billows breaking among the rocks, the ear would have a banquet of no ordinary kind nor of everyday occurrence.—Banffshire Journal.

[18] In the fishing villages on the Firths of Forth and Tay, as well as elsewhere in Scotland, the government is gynecocracy. In the course of the late war, and during the alarm of invasion, a fleet of transports entered the Firth of Forth, under the convoy of some ships of war which would reply to no signals. A general alarm was excited, in consequence of which all the fishers who were enrolled as sea-fencibles got on board the gunboats, which they were to man as occasion should require, and sailed to oppose the supposed enemy. The foreigners proved to be Russians, with whom we were then at peace. The county gentlemen of Mid-Lothian, pleased with the zeal displayed by the sea-fencibles at a critical moment, passed a vote for presenting the community of fishers with a silver punch-bowl, to be used on occasions of festivity. But the fisherwomen, on hearing what was intended, put in their claim to have some separate share in the intended honorary reward. The men, they said, were their husbands; it was they who would have been sufferers if their husbands had been killed, and it was by their permission and injunctions that they embarked on board the gunboats for the public service. They therefore claimed to share the reward in some manner which should distinguish the female patriotism which they had shown on the occasion. The gentlemen of the county willingly admitted the claim; and, without diminishing the value of their compliment to the men, they made the females a present of a valuable brooch, to fasten the plaid of the queen of the fisherwomen for the time.

It may be further remarked, that these Nereids are punctillious among themselves, and observe different ranks according to the commodities they deal in. One experienced dame was heard to characterise a younger damsel as “a puir silly thing, who had no ambition, and would never,” she prophesied, “rise above the mussel-line of business.”—Note to Antiquary.

[19] “The Scottish fishwomen, or “fishwives” of Newhaven and Fisherrow, as they are usually designated, wear a dress of a peculiar and appropriate fashion, consisting of a long blue duffle jacket, with wide sleeves, a blue petticoat usually tucked up so as to form a pocket, and in order to show off their ample under petticoats of bright-coloured woollen stripe, reaching to the calf of the leg. It may be remarked that the upper petticoats are of a striped sort of stuff technically called, we believe, drugget, and are always of different colours. As the women carry their load of fish on their backs in creels, supported by a broad leather belt resting forwards on the forehead, a thick napkin is their usual headdress, although often a muslin cap, or mutch, with a very broad frill, edged with lace, and turned back on the head, is seen peeping from under the napkin. A variety of kerchiefs or small shawls similar to that on the head encircle the neck and bosom, which, with thick worsted stockings, and a pair of stout shoes, complete the costume.”

[20] “There fishermen and fishermen’s daughters marry and are given in marriage to each other with a sacredness only second to the strictness of intermarriage observed among the Jews. On making inquiry we find that occasionally one of these buxom young damsels chooses a husband for herself elsewhere than from among her own community; but we understand that when this occurs the bride loses caste, and has to follow the future fortunes of the bridegroom, whatever these may turn out to be. Speaking of marriages, the present great scarcity both of beef and mutton, and the consequent high price of these articles of food, seems in no way to terrify the denizens of Newhaven, for there the matrimonial knot is being briskly tied. While chatting with some of the fishermen just the other day we heard that two of these celebrations had taken place the night before, and that other four weddings were expected to come off during this week; and we both heard and saw the fag end of the musical and dancing jollification, which was held in a public-house on these two recent occasions, and which was kept up until far on in the next afternoon. We can see little to tempt the young women of Newhaven to enter into the marriage state, for it seems only to increase their bodily labour. This circumstance, however, would appear to be no obstacle in the way, but rather to spur them on; and we recollect of once actually hearing, when a girl rather delicate for a Newhaven young woman was about to be married, another girl, a strapping lass of about eighteen, thus express herself:—“Jenny Flucker takin’ a man! she’s a gude cheek; hoo is she tae keep him? the puir man’ll hae tae sell his fish as weel as catch them.” When upon this subject of intermarriages among the Newhaven people it is proper to mention that we heard contradictory accounts regarding the point; some saying that no such custom existed, or at least that no such rule was enforced by the community, while another account was that only one marriage out of the community had, so far as had come to the knowledge of our informant, taken place during the last eight or nine years.”—North Briton.

[21] Some of this information about Fisherrow is from Chambers’ Journal.

[22] From a private letter by Mr. Donald Bain.