ALBERT R. MANN LIBRARY New York State Colleges OF Agriculture and Home Economics AT Cornell University THE GIFT OF WILLARD A. KIGGINS, JR. in memory of his father Cornell University Library SH 439.H49 [Notes and reminiscences of my life as a 3 1924 003 429 317 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924003429317 From WM. HENDERSON, VUla Muller, Herdweg, Stuttgart, WURTEMBURG. MY LIFE AS AN ANGLER biL. . \-\-t^i^(jiM^~i\ uJdX.. AiMvV-. DEDICATION. The following pages are affectionately dedicated to my dear children. I am now sixty-one years of age, and am still attached as ardently as ever to the noble sport of angling for salmon and trout. In manhood as in yoath, it has often happened that I have heen unable to leave home at the periods which nay judgment pointed out as the most promising for sport. During these times of disappointment I have never failed to seek what comfort I could in reading boobs on angling, pisciculture and kindred subjects, and frequently I have succeeded in transporting my mind to the streams I knew and loved so well. At moments such as these, when Pepperhaugh on Coquet, or Cbupland on Glen, seemed again to smile upon me, regretful feelings would rise in my mind with regard to the past, with a craving to read the record of my wanderings for half a century by broad river and rippling streams — to recall some scenes of special in- terest in which with companions, many of them dead or far away, I have enjoyed the fly-fishing of May, or the more productive worm-fishing of June. Though the thoughtlessness of youth and the manifold occupations of maturer age have prevented me from keep- ing a regular journal of my many and varied wanderings, yet I am not whoUy without memorandum of days given to the gentle art--days which do not appear to have been noted down for the excellence of the sport obtained but by VI DEDICATION. mere caprice, and which detail average rather than ex- ceptionally successfol angling. It is with regret that I feel myself unable to relate many a tale of mirth and frolic in which I bore a part. I could neither do justice to them in the recital, nor place them in chronological order. I must content myself with doing little more than copy such memoranda as my old writing- case contains, and chronicle faithfully such incidents as memory has preserved. And this I do in the hope that my dear children will feel an interest in the stories of the past, and especially that my sons may gain from them some instruction in the art of angling. William Henderson. Floeencb: Christmas lS7i. PEE FACE. My dear An&lbr Fkiends, — Permit me to say that whatever blame may attach to me for printing the following notes must in equity be shared with you. The work was originally meant simply to gratify my children, and to make them acquainted with one por- tion of their father's past life. As the manuscript proceeded, my doubts of its merit became so great that I submitted portions of it to the criticism of certain of you, my angler friends. The verdict of each has been to the effect that the manuscript possessed suflGicient interest for anglers generally to warrant its publication. Highly gratified as I was, I thought this decision too friendly to be just ; however, after some deliberation, a compromise has been effected, and I undertake to print my angling notes for private circulation only. To yourselves and to my family they will prove of more or less interest, while for me it is sufficient reward that my name will in these pages continue to be asso- Vlll PREFACE. ciated with those of the comrades whose friendly com- panionship has brightened many a pleasant tour with rod and line. I remain, My dear angler friends, Ever yours truly, William Hendeeson. Ddeham : Midawmmer 1876. N.B. — The appearance at the close of this book of my sketch of 'The Grrottoes of Adelsberg' and the ' Proteus Anguinus,' may call for a word of explanation. Several years have passed since the little account was published in the ' Monthly Packet,' and the interest it then excited leads me to append it to the reminiscences of my life. At the same time it is right to acknowledge that as the description was for the most part penned at the vil- lage Grasthoff, immediately after my only visit to those wondrous scenes, very possibly under the excitement of the moment I may have conceived some of the grottoes to be larger than in fact they are. With this qualification I believe the sketch to be fairly correct. CONTENTS. CHAPTEE I An Infentine Escapade — Condign Punishment — My Grandfather — My Father— My First Play— The Mimic Theatre— The Kemble Family- Listen at Durham — The Porter Family .... page 1 CHAPTER II. Miss Nipsey — First Attempts— My First Fishing Eod — Night-lines — La Touohe — Poor Tom ..12 CHAPTEE in. My First Trout — Gudgeon Fishing — The Windlestone Fish-ponds — Hunted by Weasels — Witton-le-Wear Fishing — Fly-fishing in the Wear — An Extemporised Fly — Dace and Eoach Fishing — Skirmishe on the Banks of the Wear — Adventure -with a Snake— A Novel Dinner Dress — ^Fishing in the Bedburn 19 CHAPTEE IV. First Visit to Coquet-r-Weldon Bridge — Eothbury — The Angler Caught — Juvenile Surgery 30 CHAPTEE V. Charlie Ebd/s Workshop — Charlie in Search of the Drowned — ^At a Fire — Acting Oculist — With the Bull Trout — His Lessons in Angling — Visit to Weldon Bridge— The Dilettante Angler — The Kingfisher's Nest — The Otter a Wood-cutter — Charlie no Pugilist— The Flood of A.D. 1824 in the Wear— Angling at Night 34 CONTENTS. CHAPTEE TI. A Start for the Highlands — A Good Day's Sport — Mr. Culley's Evening Scramble — Highland Lochs and Streams — A Plucky Shepherd Boy — A Second Highland Tour — A Ducking in the Lochy — Meeting with the Hon. Mr. Cranstoun — A Night in a Highland Cottage — ^AJl Alone on the Top of a Rock — Mr. Johnston and the Bull — The Open-hearted Sea Captain — Tale of Second Sight ..... page 50 CHAPTEE VII. Charlie and Piggy — List of Sport in the Coquet — The ' Eed-tailed un' — Excursion to DrifSeld — Colonel Childers and Mr. Musters— The Shothaugh Dog and his Allies ... . .69 CHAPTEE Vin. Border Streams — Storm on the Glen — 'The Broom's in the Basket' — Characteristics of the Glen — My First Pike — The Gipsy Bride and Groom — Golden Days for Anglers — Strictures on Modern Sport . 77 CHAPTEE IX. Worm-fishing in the T-weed — Eoh o' the Trows— Eob and the Noble- man — ' Swallow-smolts ' — The Eed Trout of the Eden^Eels at the Waterfall of Newton Don — The' Gamekeeper and my Card — Fishing in the Whiteadder — In the Till — Eels Feeding on Insects — The Angler Hooked — Bait of the Flying Lob — CoUie Dogs in Kirk 85 CHAPTEE X. St. Boswell's and Dryburgh — Adam Johnston — Salmon-fishing — John Younger — Verses to Nannie — Struggle with an Eel — Captain F.— His Tales of Old Times 97 CHAPTEE XI. The Coquet— Casting up stream— A night at the Black Bull— Salmon Eoe — ^Hospitality at Mindrum Mill— The Blind Water-Eat— The Che-piot Shepherd and the Wise Man — Charlie Ebdy at Mertoun Water — Captain F. and his Son — The Mertoun and Eutherford Waters —Fishing in the Wharfe— Effect of my Wading Boots on the Land- lady's Nerres — Eeminiscence of my First Shot — Adventure with a ^ar 108 CONTENTS. CHAPTER Xn. Formation of the SprouBton Club^ — The Johnston Family — Sprouston Dub and Bob Kerss — The Durham Eanger and the Big Fish — Mr. Bond's Success in July — The Pointers and. our Rod . . paqe 126 CHAPTER XIII. Varied Fishing in the Edenmouth Water — Escape from a Frightful Carriage Accident — ^Dr. Raine's Munificence — ^Fishing Trip to the Whiteadder — Nocturnal Adventures— Accidents on the way to Chirn- side — The Sprouston Harvest Fields — The Parson among the Reaper Maidens 135 CHAPTER XIV. The Big Fish — The ' William Henderson,' ' Greenwell,' and 'Wilkinson' Flies— The Water Hen's Nest— Memoranda of Mr. T. P. Teale's Fish- ing — James Wright the Tackle-maker — Fishing at Etall . . 146 CHAPTER XV. The Wise Economy of X. — His Discomfiture — Fishing at Rutherford — My Hook in Sandie's Lug — The Otter and the Salmon — Mr. Lang- home's Capture of a Pike — The Angler's Luncheon — Reynard on the Wall — Mr. Langhome and Mr. Swire on the Tweed — ^Fishing in the Wark Water . .' 155 CHAPTER XVI. Fishing in the Glen — Weasels and Eels—' Greenwell's Glory '^June Fishing with Mr. J. H. Forster — Admiral Oator — The Breamish and the Till — Friendship Tested — The Wee Wee Fish— Spearing Salmon — Worm-fishing for Salmon 170 CHAPTER XVII. Notes of Fishing in February, 1866 — In March — Dead Salmon Utilised — Fishing with Messrs. Cundill and Evans — With Major Maunsell — The Wild Cattle of Chillingham Park— Lord Ossulston — 'Ye are Waur than a Net ' — October Fishing with Mr. C. Bramwell — The Angler's Carnival 182 Xll CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVni. Fishing in Makerstoun— At Sprouston Dub — With Mr. Bramwell — ^In the Cale— The EelandTrout—LegendsofLinton—LastUse of Salmon Eoe — Fishing at Spronston in Wild Weather — In the Ewart Water — Scenery around the Tributaries of the College and the Glen page 200 CHAPTER XrX. Floods at Sprouston — The Swallow-smolt and Trout— Fishing in the Glen — in the College — A Young Angler Disappointed — Death of Mr. Johnston — Thomas Scott's Dexterity — A Day Lost — Comparison be- tween Wark Water and Sprouston Dub — Dr. Holden and the ' Strange Irregiilar Beast ' — Kesiilts of Fishing in Sprouston Dub . . 210 CHAPTER XX. Fishing in Birgham Dub — A Too Eager Spectator — Fishing with Mr. Bigge and Mr. Cundill — Capture of a Salmon -with Fine Trout Tackle — A Similar Feat by Mr. Culley — New Brooms Sweeping too Clean — Fishing with Mr. Lewis— With Dr. Holden— With Mr. P. S. Wilkin- son — Notes by the Latter on the Fishing Season of A.D. 1862 . 222 CHAPTER XXI. Juvenile Anglers — Fishings with Mr. Brinton — 'Daft Jock' — Fishings ■with my Son — Mr. Greenwell's Successful Experiment — Notice of Mr. Culley's Angling ... .*.... 237 CHAPTER XXII. Last Interview with Mr. Brown, of Longformacus — Mr. William Green- well's Best Day— A Remarkable Day in the Butterwash — Mr. Bond's Great Day in Sprouston Dub — Death of Mrs. Johnston — Contest respecting Lumley Lock —Association for the Preservation of the River Wear — A Noteworthy Day in the Wear— Migration of Eels Captain Henderson at Sprouston Dub and Old Bewick May by the Glen — Final Adventure with a Bull ... , 247 CHAPTER XXIII. Inspection of the Wear by Her Majesty's Salmon Fishing Commissioners — Mr. Frank Buckland's Link with the Past — My own — Remarkable CONTENTS. XUl Capture of a Salmon in the Butterwash — ^Mr. P. S. Wilkinson's Notes of the Autumn Fishing of a.d. 1873 — The Mysterious Anglers — Mr. George Crawhall and Hobbie — Old Timbertoes — The Blind Fisherman of St. Boswell's— Fishing of Major Beekwith— Of Dr. Fawcett— Mr. Culley and Ganningan faob 259 CHAPTER XXiv. Treves^The last Stuart — My French Guide and his Collection of Worms — Fishing in the Kyll — Wildbad— Fishing in the Enz — ^A Word re- specting Hafts — ^Engelberg —Attempts to Fish in the Neighbouring Streams — A Ducking — Lucerne — The Devil's Bridge — Beauty of the Trout in Swiss Streams — An Awkward Scramble — Conclusion and Farewells 274 APPENDICES 299 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. PoBTBAiT OF THE AwTHOB ...... Froutispiece Thb Kitchen Door Tofaeep. 16 liOOH HocEN „ 60 HiGHLAin) ErVEE „ 62 SUNDEELAND BbIDQB „ 70 TiLLaiDE ... .... „ 256 NOTES AND EEMINISCENCES. CHAPTER I. ' Every family is a liistory in itself, and even a poem to those who knovp how to search its pages.' — Alphonsb Lamaetinb. AN INFANTINE ESCAPADE — CONDIGN F0NISHMENT — MI GEANDFATHBB — MY FATHEE MY FIEST PLAY TEE MIMIC THEATRE THE XBMBLS FAMILY — LISTON AT DURHAM — THE POETER FAMILY. Of all the signs of the zodiac undoubtedly 'the fish with glittering tails' ruled my horoscope. The streams and rivulets of my native county, which then flowed pure and unpolluted, moulded my baby thought, and like a young duck, I was hardly out of the shell before I took to the water. Within the first year of my life, my family eame to reside in an old house at Durham known as Shakelock Hall and standing on the banks of the river Wear. !• have often been told how every summer morning, when the nursery maid had awakened me from my slumbers, I watched her movements with a careful eye, ready if she absented herself from the nursery but for a moment to creep downstairs in my little night-dress, dash B 2 INFANTINE ESCAPADE. through the garden, and gain the water side. Here was a never failing source of joy, here lay the fairyland of my infancy. To catch the sticks and straws which floated down the stream, combine and balance them, and set them off again in a contest of speed constituted my earliest delight. Several severe colds, and one sharp attack of inflammation, however, led my parents to take active measures for the cure of this hydropathic mania. A stranger was engaged to watch my move- ments and arrest them, while an old trusty servant of the family was placed in the background as my guar- dian angel. As I stood on the river's brink, intent on the contest for precedence between ' the white straw ' and ' the black stick,' not dreaming of approaching evil, plump I was plunged by an unseen hand into the stream, and left floundering in what to me was deep water. After a few moments however which seemed to me an age I was rescued, as prearranged by my hidden friend. He caught me up, soothed me and bore me off to the paternal roof. Forgetting that my own disobedience was the cause of the catastrophe, I complained bitterly of the naughty wicked man who had thrown me into the river, and declared that if good John Ditchbum had not come up just then I should certainly have been drowned. The taieasure was indeed a rough and ready one, such as parents of the present day would scarcely resort to with a little child, but I imagine it was not so considered in the last generation. It is related in my wife's family that the late Eev. John Skinner, vicar of Camerton, the lifelong friend of her grandfather, coming one day upon his five-year-old son in forbidden ground on the margin of a pond, stole up quietly behind the culprit, seized him by the legs, dippod him head foremost in the water, MY GEANDFATHEH. 3 laid him on the bank and strode away, leaving the poor child to recover from the shock as best he could. Before proceeding with the history of the little truant by the river side, let me say a few words respecting his family. The first record of my father's ancestors is as follows. About two centuries ago a younger son of the family, deeming his portion too scant for living with comfort in his native county of Fife, emigrated to the western part of Durham and engaged in farming. Generations passed, till my grandfather was the representative, and I believe the only one, of the emigrant. How Well I remember him ; a hale old man, upwards of eighty years of age, teSty in temper and overbearing to all except my grandmother, whose marvellous gentleness never failed to soften the domestic autocrat. He had several sons, and thinking no occupation comparable to farming he destined no fewer than four to follow in his own steps. Unfortunately for my father's happiness he was one of the devoted four, and a farmer he was to be, though his talents and turn of mind pointed in a differ- ent direction. The , lad's studious habits and great intelligence had early gained him the affection of his schoolmaster, who did all in his power to rescue his favourite pupil from an occupation he abhorred, but in vain. This schoolmaster, let me observe, was one of the self-taught mathematicians who about that time cropped lap in the county of Durham, men who without the advantage of a college education attained to a high standard of mathematical knowledge. Some of them obtained high positions elsewhere; others less ambi- tious earned their bread by teaching the smaller schools of the neighbourhood while they propounded or an- .sweied those knotty mathematical, problems which B 2 MY FATHER. formed at that time the great staple of the famous Kendal Diary. My father's schoolmaster was a cripple but a really able man, and such was his affection for his pupil that on his being withdrawn from school he volunteered to carry on the lad's education in the even- ing. There was but one way by which this could be efifected. The lad took his mother into his confidence, and for many weeks she contrived without her husband's knowledge to allow my father to let himself down from his bedroom window at night and run two miles across the country to the house of his kind preceptor. This remarkable love of learning, with an especial drawing to the study of mathematics, to the English classics and all literature connected with the drama, continued during my father's whole life, and availed to cheer the long hours of pain and weariness which while still in the prime of life it became his lot to endure. Circimistances led him in early youth to the city of Durham, and there he met my mother. He possessed health, energy, talents, and an unblemished character, and is said to have been more than good-looking, and exceedingly attractive in manner. No wonder that she who even in later life was remarkable for singular beauty and great abilities should in the freshness of her early charms have attracted one so qualified to appre- ciate her. Earely indeed did two persons meet so evi- dently made for each other. If ever there was a per- fect fusion of two spirits in one, it was in the case of my father and mother. But alas ! the happiness of their married life was too great to be of long continuance. After a few brief years my father was attacked by a severe and lingering illness caused by remaining in wet clothes after a long wild drive in an open carriage across the Whitby moors. From that time to his death at the MT FIEST PLAT. 5 early age of forty-two he was a constant though uncom- plaining sufferer, dependent on my mother's sweet and gentle tendance, his only other recreations being a drive in his carriage by my mother's side, accompanied by myself on my little pony, and occasionally a visit to the theatre. A taste for the drama was deeply implanted in both my parents, no wonder that it was early developed in their child. Among the most charming of the ' Essays of Elia ' stands ' My first Play,' and had I the pen of Charles Lamb, I too would record what I felt on my ad- mission to this palace of pleasure. I will however only relate the attendant circumstances, which were curious enough. I had heard of the theatre till I longed, oh, how eagerly to visit it, and before I was five years old I determined that, come what would, I too would see a play. Accordingly one evening I stole from the nursery in my little tartan frock and white pinafore with bare head and arms, and ran through the streets as swiftly as I could. When I reached the portals of my ' paradise of daintie devises,' a little knot of womfcn were just entering. With a sudden inspiration I grasped the dress of one whose fac^ looked kind and whose drapery was ample, and sheltering myself in its folds I passed the ticket collector and soon was seated in the foremost part of the pit. My childish appearance and flaxen locks attracted the attention pf my neighbours. They perceived me to be without protectors and were ques- tioning what to do with me, when the curtain rose and every eye was fixed upon the stage. Soon my loud and eager plaudits drew the attention of both audience and actors. It was all enchantment to me and a dream. Every feeling was absorbed in vision, when a lady said abruptly to my mother, who with my father was in the b THE MIMIC THEATRE. boxes, ' Don't you think, Mrs. Henderson, that that little boy in the pit is very like your William?' Alas for the shock that followed ! I was carried off at once, loudly protesting that I wanted to stay and see what would happen next. A few years later I was ambitious enough to take a bold step and set about the construction of a mimic theatre myself, with the aid of a schoolfellow, George Andrews, a boy of singular ingenuity, whose passion for the drama was equal to my own. One long winter evening after another was given up to our new work, and before two years had expired we were able to exhibit to our wondering companions a mimic theatre, perfect in every detail, and capable of exhibiting at least a dozen melodramas. Eobbers in caves, lighted by torches, Ham- let and his surroundings, Baillie Mcol Jarvie with his red-hot poker, and many another scene ; above all a sea fight, ending in the blowing up of both vessels, such were our favourite exhibitions. This theatre is still in existence. It has frequently been shown to my children, and probably in years to come will enter into the happy hours of the next generation. At a later period of my life these family tastes led to a warm friendship between my mother and Mrs. Stephen Kemble when as a widow she resided at the Grove, a pretty place not far from our own residence at Bellasis. Her husband, though less celebrated than his brother and sister, was an admirable actor. He was a tall large man, and his vast bulk enabled him to play the part of Falstaff without any padding, so as to satisfy the requirements even of the present century, which persists in taking literally all Prince Hal's humorous exaggerations and the meny knight's jokes at himself. Stephen Kemble went from Durham to London by re- STEPHEN KEMBLE. • 7 quest to act Falstaflf before Geotge IV., and a very clever prologue was written, asserting his dimensions to be all his own and stating that a waggon had been necessary to drag him to London. He was a man of singularly bright and cheerful disposition; fond of society, and never happier than when, seated at his dinner table with three friends of kindred spirit, he led the conversation with a charm of manner and fund of residy information rarely to be met with. In those days conversational powers were held in far higher estimation than at present. Wit and brilliancy of speech were essential to good standing in society ; now, like pebbles in the bed of a brook, people are so roimded by conventionalities that it is hard to teU where talent lies. So long as a man comports himself quietly and commits no solecism in language or manners, he is spoken of as a gentlemanlike person ; he may be a fool, but that seems comparatively of small consequence. The charming little dinners of which I have spoken with the rubber of whist that followed them were, I grieve to say, a source of discord between our modern Falstaff and his spouse, his native generosity and love of society inducing him to indulge in them more frequently ■than was altogether warranted by his means. The need of exercising a strict control in these matters developed an economical habit which became a leading feature in the lady's character. Thus on Mr. Kemble's death she actually wrote to bis friend Mr. Leybourne, begging him as a kindness to purchase of -her certain pairs of shoes belonging to her late husband, adding that they were very little worn, and that she knew no other gentleman with a foot suflSciently large to wear them. It is right to add that in later days, when her in- come was certain and all anxiety respecting affairs at JANE PORTBK. » Liston, die orer again, die over again I' On hearing these exclamations the natural instincts of the man overcame all other considerations. He rose slowly from the ground as if he were waking from a trance ; gazed for some time at the audience, fixing his large stolid eyes as if in a stupid stare, while his wonderfully mobile countenance worked and twitched as none but Listen's could ; then frantically throwing arms and legs about he flung himself again upon the ground and died a second time. The thunders of applause which followed this tra- vesty were long and loud, and from that day Liston was more popular than ever in Durham. But such a scene plainly would not bear repetition, and when, next morning in the green room Mr. Cawdell gravely in- formed him that he could never again be trusted to play tragedy, the culprit ruefully made answer, ' Indeed sir, after last night's work I shall never trust myself in it again ; ' to which resolution he very wisely adhered. I have always felt a keen interest in my mother's girlish friendship for Jane Porter, whom I myself re- member when a child. I recollect the arrival of a note from the Waterloo Hotel, with a request that it should be delivered immediately to my mother. The note was from the authoress in question, conveying an affectionate request that the friend of her early days would come and pass a few hours with her at the hotel while she was resting on her way to London. It appeared that the lady was returning from Scotland, where she had been collecting materials for her well- known work, ' The Scottish Chiefs,' and she was glad to pause for a short time in the home of her childhood. Miss Porter, her sister Anna Maria, and their brother Robert were brought up at Durham, and were such 10 THE POETEE FAMILY. near neighbourn of my mother, herself an only child, that they were constant companions, occupied together in pursuits -which have not failed to leave their mark in history. I have often heard my mother describe the following scene. The little party was collected in a low room with long casement windows looking into Bow Lane, then as now the -quietest and most ancient part of the city. Miss Porter and my mother were engaged in needle- work ; Eobert, stretched on the floor, was busy painting battle scenes on tissue paper ; while Anna Maria, with a timid glance at her sister, drew from her pocket a manuscript which she was to read aloud according to promise. It was the first part of that charming volume afterwards known as ' Artless Tales,' certainly a re- markable production for a girl of (I believe) only fourteen years of age. The listeners were loud in their praises till at last Miss Porter rose with an air worthy of Mrs. Siddons, a manner which clung to her through life. ' Anna,' she said, ' you have written well.' There was a pause of some moments. ' When I write,' she added, ' I shall write history,' and she swept out of the room with the air of a duchess. The reading of this the first ' Artless Tale ' decided the future of the elder sister ; from that day she applied herself to literature, in which she has left a not unhonoured name. But the boy on the ground was perhaps the most re- markable member of this gifted family, and in his present employment lay the germ of a happy creation of his later days. He was a self-taught painter, and his practical inind developed the idea of exhibiting historical scenes in panorama. On the floor beside him stood a tea chest, from which two ends had been removed. Across one of these openings a , sheet of tissue paper was SIB EGBERT KEE PORTER. 1 1 stretched on which a grand battle-piece was depicted, while behind clustered an array of candles, the cost of which was defrayed by a tax levied on the sight-seers. In this old tea chest and candles we may see the origin of Sir Eobert Ker Porter's panorama of world-wide fame, which made him a knight in England and assisted in winning him high rank and a rich bride at the Court of St. Petersburg. Art first raised him to eminence, though subsequently he was not less distinguished in diplomacy, in war, and in literature. 12 MISS NIPSET. CHAPTER II. ' The child is .father of the man.' — Woeds-worth. MISS NIPSEY— FIRST ATTEMPTS — MY FIRST FISHING ROD — NIGHT-LINES — lA TOCCHE — POOR TOM, Let me resume my own early history. At five years of age I was sent to a school kept by an austere little lady named by ber pupils Miss Nipsey, under wbom I enjoyed a varied style of tuition witb many a young companion of either sex. The hours devoted to study were brief, and during the summer months, no sooner were we let loose from school than the race began. He was a hero who first gained the gravel bed which dams back the water for the bishop's corn-mill. ' Methinks I see the miller yet ; ' with what awe did we regard him! Most sedulous were we to pay him fitting respect: for by his permission alone did we dare to ransack tlie crevices of the stakes for loaches or young eels. The gravel bed had its peculiar attraction. From the ponds immediately beneath the stakes we constructed long canals through it, and driving the minnows which frequented the ponds into these we made grand captures — captures which we looked upon with as much complacency as we now bestow on a fortunate day among the salmon of Sprouston Dub. YOUNG ANGLERS. 13 Our water-bucket with its collection of minnows, loaches, and eels, varied by an occasional stickleback or miller's thumb, was borne in triumph to an old. stone trough which stood in the back garden of my father's house. Here the unhappy prisoners were packed as tightly as the suiferers in the Black Hole of Calcutta, and great was our astonishment and dismay when we found that, despite all the bread crumbs and worms we crowded in for food, the creatures would die, and that a fresh supply was needed every evening to fill up the room of the slain. Many and curious were the experi- ments which the juvenile band of naturalists tried in that old trough. There we tested the popular belief respecting the transformation of horsehair into young eels. We saw an evidence of the hidden life within in the tendency of the hair to twist and turn when first placed in the water, the quiescence that followed ap- pearing to us no good ground for impugning the great fact that the hair had moved. On that we took our stand, and attributed the subsequent failure of the ex- periment to a thousand and one causes adduced in turn by every boy. The acquisition of his first fishing-rod is always an era in an angler's life, and well do I, remember the circumstances which led to my possessing one. Prowl- ing along the river bank in search of minnows I came upon two iDoys apparently possessing a joint interest in a fishing-rod which was projected over a willow bush. Youth is a period of freemasonry, and I was soon on good terms with the strangers, who proudly exhibited the results of their sport — three small eels strung upon a willow twig. How often did we take them down, care- fully measure and remeasure, wash and rewash them, flap their tails when they showed signs of life, and discuss the 14 MY FIEST FISHIN& ROD. important question as to whether they were members of the silver or the golden eel families ! It was not in human nature to witness such joys unmoved, and soon r was bold enough to request from my mother the sum of eighteenpence, for which I professed myself ready to pawn my weekly stipend of threepence. Behold me now the proud possessor of a ' two piece rod ' glowing with bright vermillion and rich in a brass ferule ! Thus armed, every evening found me at some spot where eels were said to abound, and on rainy days I made it a rule to angle beneath the bridge, for I firmly believed the assertion of an ironical friend that eels in bad weather sought the shelter of the arches to keep themselves out of the wet I Many and varied were the triumphs I now achieved, but I am obliged to confess that certain practices of a somewhat questionable character were at this time re- sorted to by us juvenile anglers. It became the fashion among us to set night lines. "Wonderful tales were in .circulation of enormous eels thus caught by the renowned Charlie Ebdy, nor were they altogether untrue. I remember seeing more than once the result of his night's investment, and a bucket filled with eels, some weighing from two to three pounds, was a sight to fire the energies of a boy not more than nine or ten years of age. I cannot say that my success in this branch of the art corresponded to the pains bestowed on it. Clear as it seemed to our young minds that six hooks during the night must have more effect than one by day, some mischance was always impairing the results. Every morning in summer I would steal to the river side, looking stealthily round to see whether any unfriendly eye watched my proceedings, and if the coast seemed clear, the line was drawn in. Alas ! the LA TOUCHB. 15 proceeds were seldom more than one or two small eels, the other hooks being commonly broken and the line twisted so as to show some giant had been caught, but had proved more than a match for me. My fishing at this period was, however, marked by some incidents of a character never to be forgotten. Among my dear mother's pets was a poodle, whose talents made him indeed a remarkable dog. La Touche was by birth and breeding a Russian, his long hair hung in a hundred graceful ringlets ; he was as white as snow, and had not his tail been cruelly shortened of its fair proportions, he might have been deemed in every respect a dandy-dog. His early life had been passed in camps ; he had been present, perchance had bled, at glorious Waterloo ; no wonder that he was the little pet of the house. His charms are set forth in these lines by a youthful member of the family : ' Who's he with soft and curly hair, White as if bleached by mountain air With skin so delicate and fair ? Old Touche. With ears so long and mouth so wide, And legs so bow-like when astride, A tail on which a mouse might ride ? Old Touche. Who begs so well, and dances too, Nay, brandy drinks and ne'er gets fou. Who smokes cigars ? (yes, that is true), Old Touche. Who through a hoop so nimbly jumps. Nay, will do anything for thumps, , Whose only malady's the dumps ? Old Touche. 16 lA TOUCHE. Who in a passion often flies, When strangers take him hy surprise, And when he's hurt so loudly cries ? Old Touche. Who when he's told will really die And piteous lay with close-shut eye ? He to whom now, we bid good-hye. Old Touche. Touche was my constant companion in setting or withdrawing these night lines. While my baits were limited to lob worms all went well, but in an evil hour I succeeded in coaxing the cook to give me some scraps of meat for the purpose. These were soon placed upon the hooks, and on a dark night I bent my way to the foot of the Hielands, the dog trotting contentedly by my side. The line with all its attractions was stretched upon the sandbank, and I was preparing to pitch it into the water, when it was wrenched out of my hand, and a howl, oh what a howl of agony, told the horrid fact. Dear old Touche had hooked himself as fast as ardent lover could desire to be hooked to pretty maid ! He was for some time too frightened to allow me to approach him, but at last he submitted, and murmur- ing the softest words I led him homewards. On reach- ing the garden-gate I paused, realising all the horrors of the situation. How was I to face my mother with a large fishhook in the throat of her pet ? Whatever La Touche may have been enduring, I think my distress more than equalled his. I stood for some time undecided what to do while many a tear fell on the long curls of Touche. At last a bright idea struck me, and I hurried to the cottage of John Ditchburn with my sad tale. John possessed strong nerves, and was ever fertile in resources. A tom's walk on the pantiles. 17 stout stick was quickly placed between the sufferer's jaws, and ere a minute had pas§ed> the hook was disen- gaged by my friend's firm hand from its cruel hold. My thanks were profuse, and John being a model of discretion, no sound of the tragedy reached the domes- tic circle. My blushes, however, nearly betrayed me when, at breakfast the next morning, my mother remarked, ' Poor La Touche seems to eat his buttered toast with difficulty.' The fates seemed about this time bent on torturing me. Determined never again to use baits which might tempt La Touche to danger, I collected a batch of minnows, baited my night lines and hung them upon a nail outside the house at some distance from the ground. As we were seated snugly at tea that evening, the maid rushed into the room shrieking, ' ma'am, Tom's gone mad.' Out we rushed into the garden, and beheld a sight worthy of Cruikshank's pencil. The fat cook, loudly calling for help, was holding on by oae end of a night line, while the torn cat, who had swallowed down a minnow with its sharp enclosure, was promenading along the ridge of the house roof, with his tail and every hair of his back as erect as a maypole. ' Pussy I poor Pussy ! ' said my mother, ' Wow ! ' said Tom, and took another turn on the pantiles. Off I ran to find my friend John, who was always near when wanted. This proved however a more serious affair than the last, for us John clambered along the ridge and approached the cat, Tom treated him as an enemy, spit at him, and indeed clawed him shamefully. Still John as a gallant squire had his spurs to win, and maids fair and fat were looking on, so despite all struggles the capture was effected. On the surgical operation which followed I need not enlarge, suffice to say that Tom walked about c 18 tom's kecoveey. for some time with a bandage round his neck, and warned by these disasters I gave up all use of night lines, increasing years allowing me soon to aspire to the capture of the most game fish that swims, the angler's best sport, the trout. THE BEOWKET. 19 CHAPTEE III. ' Anglers elated with unusual spoil.' — "W. Wobbsmtorth. MT FIEST-TROUT — GUDGEON FISHINQ THB WINDtBSTONB FISH-PONDS — HUNTED BY WEASELS — WITTON-LE-WEAE PISHINQ FLY-FISHING IN THE WEAK — AN EXTEMPORISED FLY — DACE AND ROACH FISHING SKIRMISHES ON THE BANKS OF THE WEAR — ADVENTURE WITH A SNAKE — A NOTEL DINNER DRESS — FISHING IN THE BEDBURN. My First Trout. — Oh, joy of joys ! how can I describe the glory so long aspired after ? The circumstances were simply these — as I approached my tenth year, I became more and more devoted to my fishing-rod, and with a little knot of friends as enthusiastic as myself I used to pass every hour unclaimed by our school- master in spinning hair-lines, making tackle and bob- bing for eels. When a half-holiday permitted so long an excursion, off we sped to the then beautiful ^rowney, where, with rods poised over convenient bushes we passed the time in making huts to defend ourselves from the rain and wind and in leap-frog or other games of the season. In those days, be it observed, every month had its special game, many of them requiring implements to be fashioned beforehand. Much youth- ful ingenuity was developed in their manufacture. We were early trained to make whatever we needed, and the things acquired by the labour of our hands were 2 20 MX FIRST TEOTJT. prized and valued accordingly. I look with regret upon the changes time has effected in this matter. Now boys play at nothing but cricket and football; they purchase their bats, their wickets, and their balls. My comrades and I had at least a score of different games and as many implements. The training was excellent. Is the change an improvement ? I doubt it. But to return to my first trout. On one of our holiday afternoons the little party of friends repaired to the Brovraey near Langley Bridge, and there in the long Dub by the side of the Brancepeth road we propped our rods side by side and began a game at leap-frog, when the cry arose, ' There's a bite at Hen- derson's ! ' A. rush to the river, an anxious paus% a gentle uplifting of the rod, a loud scream of wonder and backwards I ran, far into the dusty road, dragging a trout whose weight was at least a pound. The war- whoops and dances of a party of Indians could hardly have exceeded the excitement to which we gave way. There was cheer upon cheer, yell upon yell, and many a thump descended on my back in token of sympathy. There was no more fishing that afternoon. Back we marched to the old city, bearing our prize suspended by the gills upon a hazel stick and looking out for the admiring gaze of the passers-by. The Iron Duke, when Waterloo had been fought and won, was not more " proud than we. When the summer evenings became long, a fresh attraction appeared at the Browney. We discovered that the stream a little above Stone Bridge was haunted by a shoal of gudgeons. We had already learnt to refer to that text-book for young votaries of the rod and line, Izaak Walton's ' Complete Angler ; ' so following his directions we deputed one of our party to puddle WINDLESTONE FISH-PONDS. 21 the water some fifty yards above, while with sma]l worms the rest fished below for the pretty, silvery but greedy claimants. Our success was generally equal to our expectations ; and after several visits few were left behind to tell the tale of slaughter. An unexpected treat was given me soon afterwards by the steward of the late Sir Eobert Eden, who with that kindness which the old often delight to show to boys made me welcome to a few days' fishing for tench in the Windlestone Fish-ponds. See me mounted on my thoroughbred pony, ' Pretty Fanny,' her chestnut coat glistening in the sunlight ; swift of pace and sure of foot, my willing bearer to many a fishing trip, of all ponies the brightest and the best. Anxious to make the most of my opportunity, I took two rods, a large creel and a stocking foot well filled with lobs, for in those days a peculiar virtue was held to reside in the feet of old stockings as receptacles for worms. The ponds were four or five in number, following the course of a short valley, and were healthily fed by a small stream. My great trouble at the outset was from the water weeds, which extended for several yards be- yond the margin of the ponds, but, young as I was, determination made me equal to the occasion^ Placing a heavy leaden sinker a few inches from the hook, I suc- ceeded in casting the bait beyond the weeds, and then waited patiently for a bite. This soon came, and after losing a couple of fish through entanglement among the weeds, I learned to drag them over their surface so rapidly as to ensure the safe landing of my booty. The first day produced a dozen tench, each from one to two pounds in weight. I placed them as taken among wet weeds in the creel, and cantered home with my burden in happy mood. On my arrival I spread out the ' day's take ' upon 22 HUNTED BY WEASELS. the kitchen table, and found to my astonishmeit that the whole were living. ' Quick, Mary, quick !' I ex- claimed, a 'footbath and some river water!' A few minutes later all were plunging merrily in their own element, and the next day they were carefully conveyed to a fish-pond near Shincliffe, but I do not know what became of them afterwards. About this time, while rambling in the picturesque lane leading from Merrington to Windlestone with two other boys, an adventure occurred sufficiently startling to little fellows from nine to ten years old. We were busily engaged in picking the wild strawberries which clustered in the hedgerows when we saw at about a hundred yards' distance a pack of at least twenty weasels running from hedge to hedge and evidently scenting our footsteps. It flashed upon us that we were being hunted, so springing over the nearest hedge, we ran across a pasture field and standing upon the farther bank looked back towards our assailants. To our dismay we saw the whole pack with noses to the ground steadily tracking our course. The word was given ' Eun, run ! ' and off we scampered across another field to take up our position on another hedge. Still the pursuit was going on and the creatures were evidently gaining upon us, so with a wild shout we fled to the village, which happily for us was not far off. I have frequently heard of persons being attacked by weasels, but was never hunted by them on any other occasion. In January 1825, having lost my father on the pre- vious sixth of. August, I was, when eleven and a half years of age, sent to the school at Witton-le-Wear. In the middle of the following March, on the afternoon of a bitterly cold day, I started with two other boys to try our fortune in the river just below the village. So WOKM-FISHING FP STKEAM. 23 severe was the weather that the biting wind and hail were too much even for us. Our blood seemed frozen in our veins. Propping up our rods as dexterously as we could, we began to gather up all the furze and broom within our reach, place our faggots upright and secure them with large boulder stones. With a warm fire in front of our ' bield ' and a bottle of ginger pop we were as happy as kings. More than a dozen trout were cap- tured by our three rods in the course of as many hours. J record this to show how numerous fish were in those days compared with the present. Then a good angler ■iishing in the neighbourhood of Witton-le-Wear could always rely on a creel of from ten to twenty pounds w^ight. Now alas! between lead mines and 'sewerage every tributary is destroyed as breeding space, while the main stream flows on its milky turbid course, unpleasing to the eye, unwholesome to drink, and carrying death alike to ephemera and to fish. Let me here record a statement often made by Charlie Ebdy, whose name will frequently occur in the following pages, — a statement which I believe to be perfectly true. He declared that worm-fishing up stream, in clear water, was as a high branch of the art first practised by the Witton schoolboys. The earliest really successful anglers in this way of whom I ever heard were the sons of Sir William Chaytor, first Baronet, of Witton Castle. These lads associating with the schoolboys, the art became common to them all, and thence it spread. Charlie himself learnt it from a Witton boy, as far back as the year 1820. It is certain that during my early visits with Charlie to Coquet Grlen, Tillj Tweed, and Whiteadder, commencing in 1831, we never met with or heard of anyone who fished with worm up stream, and hence our wonderful success in the 24 AN IMPEOVISED FLY. months of June and July caused us to be narrowly ■watched by some who were desirous to learn our secret, and denounced by others as in some iway or other no better than cunning poachers. It was unfortunate that this admirable school for angling was so soon closed to me. Before the spring had far advanced I was struck down by a sharp attack of inflammation and removed to my home. A delicacy of the chest which followed prevented my return to school, and for several years after- wards my fishings were chiefly confined to the neigh- bourhood of Durham. It was not long however ere I was adventurous enough to enter the lists as a fly-fisher. Near my home stood the Bishop's com mill, and at the foot of the tail- race where it joined the river was a strong stream. In this, large trout might frequently be seen feeding, not unwatehed by eager curious eyes. Once when I was fishing at this spot with my schoolfellow John Henry Forster, a large fish went off with his only fly, a black Palmer. The loss seemed irreparable, but the young angler was instinctively a sportsman. Drawing from his pocket-book a piece of cobbler's wax he stuck it round a hook, and covering it neatly with black fur stolen from his hat he again essayed his skill. His quickness was soon rewarded ; a rapid rise and a severe struggle ended in the capture of a lovely trout of ^Ibs. Here was an instance of youthful fertility of resource such as we seldom see among the boys of this too easy-made age. The Wear was at this time well stored with dace and roach, which though now considered worthless for the table afford young anglers good sport. The former have now become as scarce as trout, the water-flies on which they feed no longer existing in sufficient quanti- ties, but roach of large size still shelter in the deep pook. USE OF A KID GLOVE. 25 Not further back than the year 1870, while walking on the bank near the Prebend's Bridge, I came suddenly upon a shoal of at least three hundred. They lay closely packed within a few inches of the surface, and seemed in size from 1 to 2 lbs. each. Eoach are however very difficult to capture, and the art is but little practised in the Wear ; on one occasion only was I successful. Fish- ing with fly for trout and dace in the favourite stream running beneath the dam at Keepyer Mill, I encoun- tered a man who was trying for roach with gentles, and who caught several. This fired my ambition, and not possessing a store of gentles, I tried my luck with an imitation, shaped from an old white kid glove. This I placed on a small hook and cast like a fly but with little motion. The result was beyond my anticipations. I soon captured six large roach — but though I often re- turned to try the same stream, I rarely took even one. How to' account for this isolated case of success I know not. Adjoining the Bishop's corn mill and near to the dam is a large gravel bed, and on the opposite side of the stream a corresponding one. These gravel beds were the scene of many fierce conflicts in my boyish days. It was the ordinary amusement of a number of the dwellers on the St. Nicholas' side of the river to assemble on the southern bed for various sports. No sooner were they seen there than the tocsin was sounded in St. Margaret's, and down rushed a little army eager for the combat which was certain to -ensue. Rein- forcements crowded in on both sides, and many a summer's evening witnessed fights such as now would be deemed a scandal, but which were seldom interfered with then. The weapons were stones, as large as could be cast with tolerable precision across the stream which 26 MIMIC FIGHTS. divided the combatants. Fierce volleys were dis- charged for two or three hours, and many a young citizen had to withdraw maimed or bruised, only to return the next evening eager for revenge. All. ranks mingled freely in the mMee ; there was no respect of persons ; the butcher's boy assaulted the youthful gentleman, and was for the time his equal. From these frays I never absented myself. First to arrive, and last to quit the field, my blood still warms at the remembrance of gallant charges when laden with as many stones as we could carry we rushed through the river and forced our foes to take refuge in the streets of St. Margaret's. Is it not true that history repeats itself? If in the nineteenth century St. Nicholas fought with St. Margaret, it was but an echo of the combats between Bishop William of St. Barbara and the usurper Cumin who in the twelfth century fought a more deadly fray on precisely the same ground. Our mimic fights were fierce enough as well might b^ among us children of the north; those between the rival bishops were terrible in their ferocity. It is re- corded that Cumin not unfrequently suspended his prisoners across ropes with heavy weights attached to the neck and the feet, or plunged them again and again in the half-frozen river. That such cruelties could be perpetrated by men claiming to be bishops of the Church, and that, in spite of all, the Church should live and flourish, is surely proof of her inherent vitality. Opposite to the lower end of the southern gravel bed niear the Bishop's corn mill, a course of stepping stones crossed the river, and on these I frequently stood ^ and cast my flies, for many fish fed near. One summer vevening while thus engaged I had an extraordinary rise accompanied by a severe pull, but there the matter A NOVEL SPIT. 27 ended. Looking down steadily I saw that a snake about fifteen inches long while crossing the river, had snapped at my fly. The creature pursued its onward course, and found shelter in a hole on the opposite bank. This is the only case of the kind that I have ever witnessed. Seventeen is or used to be a somewhat awkward age for young men, and I believe I had my full share of its encumbering shyness. Yet when invited to spend a few days with an old lady and her three daughters who were lodging at Middleton-one-Row, I acquiesced, for did not rumour tell of excellent dace fishing to be had in the river hard by ? I arrived early in the morning, introduced myself to my friends and sped to the river. Time passed only too rapidly in the excellent sport I found there, till in the excitement of securing a large chub, my foot slipped and I dropped into five feet of water. There was nothing to be done but to return to the lodgings wet through, and what was my distress on finding that my portmanteau had not arrived. My kind hostess came to my room and knowing the chronic delicacy of my chest she was eager I should change my clothes. But what was I to put on ? There was onjy one representative of the sterner sex in the house — the footman. But he had two suits of clothes — I must have one, the best would be at my serviqe. A battle ensued, but I began to fee], cold and miserable in my wet things, so at last I yielded. Behold me then in a blue coat and waistcoat with huge gilt buttons, a white neck-tie such as Beau Brummell tied with infinite grace beneath his chin, crimson plush breeches and white stockings. Oh how I execrated my poor spindle shanks encased in white cotton ! It seemed to me that I had never seen my legs ^before, and as I looked at them I hated them. 28 THE BEDBtJRN. Then the crimson above, how glaring it looked in my eyes ! I hastily took the silk p.ocket handkerchief which had been given me and tied it round my waist apron fashion, in hopes of softening the crimson and white. But the worst was to come. My hostess had shrunk from telling me that friends were coming to dinner that day, and when I descended somewhat late, my unusual toilette having taken much time, I found sixteen or eighteen persons seated round the dinner table. Lord Chesterfield himself could not have with- stood such an apparition unmoved ; kind and courteous as were my hostess and her guests, they could not restrain themselves, and smiles soon passed into roars of laughter. I believe this was the very best thing for me that could have happened, for I caught the infection and laughed with the loudest. Many a joke was made at my expense, but I entered warmly into the fun. All my shyness had vanished, and my recollections of this evening are among the pleasantest I cherish. I was now able to make excursions of some length, and by the aid of Pretty Fanny' to visit the more distant tributaries of the Wear. Thus I made heavier creels while I acquired a peculiar affection for the beautiful scenery commonly found by the side of running water. One of my favourite haunts was the Bedburn, a little below the Grrove, now the residence of H. E. Surtees, Esq. Mounted on Fanny, and with one companion also on horseback, we generally started at five o'clock in the morning, and after a ride of about fifteen miles con- trived to arrive at the village of Hamsterley in good time for breakfast. And what a breakfast ! How the ham, eggs, and tea disappeared after such appetising exercise ! Then we sped to the Bedburn and fishing carefully up stream seldom, failed to fill our baskets BASKET MEN. 29 Once indeed our efforts failed in a way we could not account for ; the fish would not take. Puzzled as we then were, we saw the state of the case when later in the day hundreds of lampreys floated on the surface of the water in an almost torpid state. We had fallen on a day when the stream was poisoned by a lead mine ' hush ' and every fish was sick at stomach and at heart. We usually shortened the journey to Hamsterley a mile by riding through the Bishop's park, and on one occasion only was leave refused us. A change of portress made good the adage that new brooms sweep clean, Civilly as we preferred our request to the new lodge- keeper, it was disregarded. She took a good look at us, and turned away saying, ' My Lord has given particular instructions against admitting basket men.' Our un- lucky creels, it appeared, had reduced us in her eyes to the rank of cadgers ! 30 COQUETDALB. CHAPTEE IV. ' The Coquet for ever ! The Coquet for aye ! The Coquet, the king o' the stream an the brae ! Frae his high mountain throne to his hed in the sea, Oh where shall we find such a river as he ? ' — E. Roxbt. FIKST TISIT TO COaTJBT — WELDON BBIDQE — BOTHBDBY — THE ANGLER CAUGHT — JUVENILB STJEGERY. When I reached my eighteenth year I disdained to be cramped within the bounds of Weardale. I, like young Nerval, Had heard of battles, and I longed To follow to the field some warlike lord. At that time Coquetdale, made famous by Robert Eoxby's imperishable ' Garland,' was the point of attrac- tion to every angler. These poems, written in the Northumbrian dialect, possess a truth and pathos which come home at least to every Northern reader, and while Izaak Walton's ' Angler ' made a convert of as apparently hopeless a subject as Washington Irving, so the ' Garland' excited many an admirer to cast a fly in the streams so beloved by the aged poet and so vividly described by him. The date of my first visit to them was fixed by a letter which I received on April 6, 1831, from my companion, W. B., dated from Rothbury, where he was WELDON BRIDGE. 31 visiting friends and trying his 'prentice hand upon the numerous trout of that picturesque neighbourhood. Its bard has truly said — There's wale o' trouts in Coquet, W. B. spoke of taking three dozen in an afternoon's lishing as a slight affair. This so fired another friend and myself that on the following Monday we took our places on the roof of the early morning coach and were set down by ten o'clock at the village of Felton, where the Coquet flows through a varied richly cultivated country well stocked with timber. How lovely it all appeared in our eyes I Our visit was timed in exact accordance with the aspirations of the poet when he taxed his fancy to describe a day best suited to the angler : O let it he in A.pril tide But one of April's heat, A momin' that seems made o' May In dews an' sunshine drest ; Frae off the crags o' Simonside Let the fresh breezes .hlaw, And let auld Cheviot's sides he green Albeit his head be snaw. In an upper room of Mrs. Hine's hotel at Felton we enjoyed a true north-country breakfast, watching all the time from the window the numerous fish which were in like manner partaking of their morning meal. Then despatching our carpet-bags by the carrier to Weldon Bridge we started to walk there, fishing by the way such pools and streams as seemed to us most promising. The results were nothing extraordinary, but compared with our past doings they satisfied us and impelled us to look forward eagerly to the morrow. For were we not young ? and were not hope and fancy all our own ? 32 RETRIBUTION. And the morrow did not disappoint us. We had the advantage of an ale-coloured water, no small matter to beginners, and we counted by evening several dozen small trout, mingled with silver-coated smolts, for in those days the laws which protected these were set aside very coolly by anglers. The next morning we took a trap and soon found ourselves at the beautifully situated village of Eothbury, with its old stone bridge and noble parish church embosomed in rich wood ; — a lovely picture, but my eyes turned instinctively to the high hills above, crested with rocks and dotted with flocks of goats amid the golden whin bushes and the feathery bracken. Never before had , I been surrounded by scenery so wild and romantic, and I date from this visit that taste for the picturesque in nature which for many years has bright- ened my wanderings in various lands. Our breakfast though ample was speedily dispatched, and W. B. and I betook ourselves to the river-side about a mile below the village. Here I was doomed to experience in my own proper person what old Touche and poor Tom suffered from my early negligence. A gravel bed was selected as the spot most appropriate for donning our tackle ; my friend took the lead and was ready first ; the 'feed' had just come on. A score of blue duns were floating on the water, while round his head went my friend's line, and a sharp sting within my nostril made me scream aloud. Not seeing his cast fall as in- tended the rod made another circle, but the instinct of self-preservation enabled me to grasp the line and save myself the dreadful wrench that would have followed. What was to be done ? On examination the hook was found deeply embedded in my unfortunate nostril. I was on the point of running off to Rothbury in search AN EMBRYO SURGEON. 33 of help when my friend, with a gravity more becoming his profession (for he was an embryo surgeon) than his years, undertook the case himself. ' Lie down upon the ground,' he said with a tone of authority. ' Shut your eyes.' I obeyed. Another sharp sting, and the offend- ing hook was extracted and lying in my hand. Many were my thanks, and warm my admiration of the operator's skill. ' Don't mention it,' he said ; ' I never had a lancet in my hand before, but as I got my first case of instruments last week it seemed a good oppor- tunity for trying them.' For three days we fished from 1 1 a.m. to 4 p.m., on each occasion nearly filling our creels. The flies were the blue dun, golden plover, and red hackle, and I may here observe that during an experience of several years I found these the most killing flies on the Coquet. On the following Monday I returned to Durham, having spent a happy and not unsuccessful week by the then most famous Border stream. As an a.ngling river none has been more bepraised in verse, as may be seen in the charming lyrics of Kobert Eoxby : I will sing of the Ooquet, the dearest of themes, The haunt of the fisher, the first of a' streams ; There's nane like the Ooquet in a' the Mng's land From the white clift's of Dover to North Britain's strand. The Ooquet for ever ! the Ooquet for aye ! The Woodhall and Weldon, and Felton so gay ; And Brinkburn and Linden, wi' a' their sweet pride For they add to the heauties of dear Ooquetside. Then blessings be on him, and lang may he glide. The fisherman's home and the fisherman's pride, From Harden's green hill to old Warkworth so grey. The Ooquet for ever ! the Ooquet for aye ! 34 MY OLD ALLY. CHAPTER V. ■ Peace to thy spirit, master mine ! Who in my hour of youth's sunshine All mysteries of rod and line Interpretedst to me. Well didst thou play the teacher's part, And had X Goldsmith's graphic art Thy -watchful eye, thy kindly heart Should not forgotten be.' CHABLIE EBDy's ■WOEKSHOP — CHARLIE IN SEARCH OF THE DROWNED — ■ AT A FIRB— ACTING OCTTLIST "WITH THE BITLI, TROUT HIS LESSONS IN ANGLINO — ^VISIT TO "WEtDON BEIDGB — THE DILETTANTE ANGLER — THE kingfisher's NEST — THE OTTER A ■WOOD-CCTTEH — CHARLIE NO PUGILIST THE FLOOD OF A.D. 1824 IN THE WEAR — ^ANGLING AT NIGHT. The name of Charles Ebdy has already appeared in these pages. Let me now formally introduce to my readers a man who to a certain little world was the greatest hero in the city of Durham, as his workshop was a Paradise of delights. Charlie was by trade a ropemaker, but the introduction of machinery made his labour sadly unprofitable, and he was compelled to resort to a thousand and one devices to earn a main- tenance for himself and his numerous family. Happily for them he was a man of varied talents ingenuity and spirit. His shop (charming place !) contained a squirrel revolving in an elaborate cage made by himself; a fleet of boats of various designs also of his own construction, for letting out to boys and EVER EEADT. 35 young men at the moderate charge of one penny an hour ; a parrot that indulged in the raciest slang ; a bullfinch that piped Jock o' Hazledean ; a tame snake which took its morning drink from a saucer, and a pointer always surrounded by puppies. Were cricket or football in season, straightway might be seen in Charlie's shop a fresh stock of the proper implements for sale. When Summer's beams began to dart And winter's blasts were dead, a handsome row of fishing-rods sprang up as if by magic, while the maker sat at his desk kno.qking off hackled flies by tlie dozen. He had no faith in flies with wings. Was there a report that some maiden crazed by care or crossed in hopeless love had sought a refuge from woe in the cold bosom of some sedgy pool, Charlie was sure to be seen at once in search of the body with a large white-bread loaf loaded with mercury, as firmly convinced that this would lead to discovery as is the Indian when he floats a chip of cedar wood near the place where his friend was drowned, in full con- fidence that it would stop and turn round above the exact spot where the body rests. Was a house on fire ? Then amid clouds of smoke, Charlie was to be seen on the roof. There amid flame and smoke and the cheers of the crowd, he unerringly directed the hose against the raging element. Like the valiant Higginbottom Still o'er bis bead, wbile fate be braved, Tbe whizzing waterpipe be waved. Such was Charlie Ebdy as known to school-boys; and when I add that as an angler he stood on the high- est pinnacle of fame, it will appear but natural that D 2 36 A FKIEND IN NEED. after my first taste of the delight of fishing at Coquet- side I should seek conference with him, and having told my adventures seal a compact that when next the thorn put forth its buds, we should don our creels and be off to the stream of streams together. Charlie was now about forty years of age, spare in form, sinewy and active as a deer, rather above the middle height, with a brown freckled face, the prominent feature of which was too much of a hook for beauty. His activity was such that no exercise, however severe, made him slacken his pace, and so fertile was he in ex- pedients that difficulties only elicited some novel scheme for overcoming them. If a large fish on being hooked, sank, trusting to its weight, to the bottom of the pool, and sulked, Charlie would shout ' Stone him,' and throw such a volley as startled it at once into renewed action^ If a cast of flies attached itself to a branch provokingly high, Charlie never failed to fling stones with such un- erring aim that the branch was cut and the cast released; or if a rod were broken, it was respliced and made as good as ever by his nimble fingers in a very few minutes. In short, to have Charlie at hand was an insurance against all catastrophes, He. bad, I regret to say, small respect for the medical faculty, and he made no secret of his contempt for ' the doctor's orders.' I once saw him enter a whitesmith's shop, where the chief workman was stand- ing aside with his eye bandaged over, evidently in great pain. On enquiry it appeared that two days previously, while chipping a piece of iron, the sufferer had allowed a small portion to enter beneath the eyelid. With Charlie a difficulty was merely a thing to be grappled with, so just saying ' I'll soon do for that,' away he sped and returned in half an hour with a powerful magnet A TRUE LOVEK OF NATCKE. 37 which he had borrowed from a friend. ' Now down on the ground,' said Charlie, with a voice of authority, and such was the general confidence in his powers that he was at once obeyed. Directing one of the worknaen to unclose the eye as far as possible he applied the magnet, on which the offending atom promptly responded, and was drawn out of the eye. Having satisfied himself that there was no more behind, Charlie commenced one of those exciting dances with which he generally wound up his triumphs, saying, with infinite scorn, ' Them doctors are all humbugs — they're not worth a button, not they.' The many hours my old friend passed out of doors in the country were not wasted upon him. He was a close observer of nature ; a flight of birds, a hornet's nest, the otter gliding by — all these and a score of other incidents as they passed before him evoked some anecdote illustrating their natural history. Like the old man of Wordsworth's sonnet, he had An ample sovereignty of eye and ear. The play of cloud and sunshine on the landscape, the bloom of the heather on the brae, the wild flowers of spring, were all noted by him. He loved them all. Charlie was a remarkably moderate and temperate man both in eating and drinking. We seldom got him to take more than one glass of beer or two of wine. Ardent and excitable as he was, especially in fishing matters, he did not indulge in the habit, then too common, of swearing. Indeed I never heard him swear but once, and then he was under such strong excitement as to be really unconscious of the offence. April had arrived. Eobert Eoxby's invitation had been given 38 AN EXCITED AKGLEK. The anaws are gane frae haugh an hill, An Ooquet's streams rin merrily, An mony a troiitie we will Mil, If thou wilt gang an flsh wi' me. Mr. P. W. Forster, Charlie, and I were fishing about a mile below Felton, Charlie planting himself in a thick thorn bush which allowed him to command a pool rippled by a strong breeze. He was soon successful, and hooked a large bull-trout which showed strong play. As Charlie was fishing at the time with small trout flies, the event was unexpected and the contest necessarily severe. Great was our astonishment at seeing him spring up and down in the bush as though he were demented, shouting all the time ' A salmon ! a salmon! d d d a skegger! a skeggerl d d d ,' while my friend and I indulged in peals of laughter. After all, sad to tell, the fish broke away, and when we answered the fisherman's call for help we found him held fast in the bush by a score of sharp thorns. Poor Charlie ! some time passed ere we could extract a smile from him. Poor Charlie ! I owe him a good deal. Perhaps his greatest value lay in this, that as he always fished his best, he formed a standard by which every hour of the day I could estimate my own progress. To an angler tor trout this is important. Should he when alone find the fish not incline to him, he may doubt whether the fault rests with himself or no ; but when gauged by such an accomplished sportsman as my old companion, he can readily satisfy himself as to his own well doing or otherwise. Among the earliest of his lessons was this — that I should always note, not only the kind of fiy on which the fish were feeding, but also the side of the river on A HOPEFUL TEMPEEAMENT. 39 which they were chiefly gathered. Sometimes he would point out that the wind being gentle the flies merely dropped from the bushes, and were quietly borne down the stream by their side ; while on other occasions he would remark that the wind had blown the flies from one side of the river to the other, and that at the latter was the only chance of sport ; and in these views I never knew him to be wrong. He had also a theory that it was well when beginning angling at say 8 a.m. to try first the quiet, easy, flowing water at the foot of the streams, and then as the morning advanced fish the upper portions more carefully, till at mid-day the top of the stream should be fished. After, a rest of an hour or more, the afternoon was to be devoted to the shallow dubs. This theory, based on careful observation, was peculiarly his own, and long practice has led me to con- clude that here, too, my Mentor was right. Charlie's temperament was a hopeful one. He used to maintain that at some time or other of every day the fish were certain to feed, and that however bad the morning's sport might be, there was sure to be a lucky hour before sunset. In this he was seldom wrong, and it was his wonderful quickness of action during this lucky hour while the fish were feeding that enabled him so often rapidly to convert a light creel into a heavy one. If the fish were taking slowly, Charlie used not to exert himself much, and then my sport was generally as good as his, but when the lucky hour came, in spite of all I could do, he never failed to take two fish for my one, thus showing himself an accomplished master of the art. At this time we fished with spliced rods made by Charlie, thirteen feet in length, very light, and pecu- liarly adapted for casting frequently, with one hand, up 40 FISHING UP STREAM. stream. Mr. Stewart has written an excellent book on the advantages of fishing with fly up stream ; but many years before Mr. Stewart told his tale Charlie had trained his pupils in this then novel system. Of late years I have fished a good deal with two-handed rods in the Tweed, and so have lost the light handling of my early days, but I am sure that the heaviest baskets I have ever made with fly have been when, under Charlie's guidance, I steadily fished up stream, acting in accord- ance with his favourite assertion, ' that a fish always lies with his head up stream, and has no eyes in his tail.' Dear old Charlie, thou wast a pleasant companion to me by many a running brook ! Never had angler a more willing ally, and tears have been shed over the graves of men who deserved them less than did this friend of my early days. What a charming drive was that when with Charlie by my side and mounted on the top of tlie Highflyer coach we trotted at the rate of ten miles an hour to Weldon Bridge, ' famed Weldon to anglers the dearest.' We had heard the fisher's call, Thie thorn is in the Irad, The pahn is in the blossom, The primrose in the shade Unfolds her dewy bosom. Sweet Coquet's purling clear, And summer music makii^, The trout has left its lair, Then waken, fishers, waken ! The lav'rock's in the sky, And on the heath the plover, The bee upon the thyme, The swallow skimming over. The farmer walks the field. The seed he's casting steady, The breeze is blowing west, Be ready, fishers, ready ! MT .FIEST SALMON. 41 We had heard the call, and we obeyed it right gladly. It was Monday in the Easter week of 1 832 ; the sun shone brightly, and our glad hearts revelled in the varied delights of nature. The honeysuckle with its early leaves, the modest pj^imrose and the budding thorn told that spring was come at last, though the lingering snow on Simon side told how narrowly we had escaped from the cold grasp of winter. On arriving at the inn we quickly graithed our fishing gear, and commenced operations in the stream which flowed in front of it. Our day's work fuUy satisfied us, cormorants as we were, when, towards the close of the afternoon, at the top of the Cauld Pool, we came upon a gentleman exquisitely got up in choice angling attire, and ardently flogging the stream with a brand new salmon rod. Civilly greeting him after the manner of true anglers, we found that his sport had been all but ' nil,' and on seeing our take he laid down his rod upon the bank and followed us. I begged leave to try a few casts with his rod ; it was pleasantly granted, and thus I made my first essay in salmon-fishing. Never before had I held a salmon rod, but practice in trout-fishing enabled me after a few casts, to throw a tolerably clean line. A good breeze was blowing up stream which favoured the proper hang of the fly, and after a quarter of an hour's thrashing, the line tightened and a large fish plunged on the sur- face of the stream. Ten minutes of firm but gentle play, and I drew him safely up to a convenient gravel bed. The joy was too great for me. Leaving my fish to fling him- self about at pleasure, I threw myself on a sandbank and must own that I kicked up my legs in a style more energetic than becoming,' while Charlie was almost equally excited, and Mr. Hood showed more sympathy 42 A GOODLT ARRAY OF TOOLS. on the occasion than could have been expected from one who had so patiently tried his own hand and failed. My prize was a bull trout of six pounds weight, a fish which affords good sport to the angler though for the table far inferior to the true salmo salar. To me however it was a noble salmon. Oh! how grateful I felt for its kind sacrifice of self 1 never was more gracious fish. Inspirited by the event Charlie next took the rod, and ere long another fish, twin brother to mine, lay gasping on the bank. Proud and satisfied we wended our way back, and having dined we drew round a cheerful wood fire and with tales of past sport and happy speculations as to the future all spent a pleasant evening. We found our companion agreeable, but utterly ignorant of everything relating to fishing. Fired by the accounts he had read of angling in Coquetdale, he deemed that he had but to equip himself, go and do. Eesorting to a Fleet Street tackle maker, he had become the proud owner of a store of tackle suflBcient for the capture of a ton of fish. There were three or four rods with reels to suit, as many pocketbooks containing every conceivable lure, and boxes of flies, black beetles, moths, ladybirds, and spiders, as perfect a collection of insects as ento- mologist could desire. Great was the astonishment of their possessor on beholding our simple tackle, and so modest was he in his ignorance that we gladly invited him to go with us on the following day. He came, and it was with pleasure that I learnt two years later of his having profited by Charlie's lessons and become an excellent trout fisher. The next morning brought a cold wind from the east, but nothing daunted we began our fishing where we had left off on the previous day. I have frequently THE KINGFISHEK'S NEST. 43 ■found that on these hard cold days of early spring the fish seem divided in their attention between a small black gnat and a large March brown. It was so on this occasion. As a rule large flies are best in cold weather, but I have frequently found the black gnat to be an exception. In the morning we did little in the streams, but the afternoon's fishing was in shallow pools', with many large boulders rising above the surface. Casting a long line among these we drew many a good fish to bank, and altogether Charlie and I made a capital day's work. While at luncheon we observed a kingfisher fly from among the fibrous roots of an old tree which over- hung the water ; quick as thought Charlie dashed through the stream to the opposite side, then scram- bling upward thrust his hand into a hole, and plucking from it the nest of the poor bird recrossed the river and showed his prize in triumph. In vain did I try to per- suade him of the cruelty and unwisdom of the act ; Charlie was a collector of curious things, and here he certainly had a prize to add to his museum. The nest was entirely made of fish bones, chiefly the larger ones of the trout, while the lining on which the young brood were to rest was composed of the small bones of minnows and such-like fish. In shape it was oval, roofed as a protection from the weather, while an opening in the side formed the only mode of ingress ; its conformation being in fact precisely that which I have seen in the nests of hornets as they hung suspended upon thorn bushes. It is to be hoped that the Act recently passed by Parliament for the better protection of our wild birds will, by checking the rapacity of collectors and destruction- ists, conduce to that end. I can bear witness to the 44 THE OTTER. seriously reduced number of kingfishers and other choice birds since the time of which I am writing. One day when seated on the south bank of the river with Charlie for my companion, an incident occurred which raised some speculation in my mind as to the habits of the fishermen's great competitor the otter. It was one of the most picturesque spots on the Coquet. A few yards above us were two islands side by side, which divided the water into three portions locally named the ' split streams,' and deemed especially good for worm fishing. Indeed it was in one of these that Charlie captured the largest trout I ever heard of in the river ; it weighed nearly five poimds, and the struggle was for years afterwards the subject of conversation. Seated imder the shadow of a large tree we were enjoying our luncheon, when a sharp crackling noise attracted our attention. Looking to an overhanging tree which dipped its branches into the middle of the pool about thirty yards from oiu: seat, we observed a large otter holding on by a branch between his teeth, and twisting it about so sharply that at last he succeeded in severing it from the tree. He then swam straight to his hole which was beneath its root, and both otter and branch disap- peared. After about five minutes the animal came out again and swam to his old position beneath the tree. Here he seized a second branch which soon yielded to his powerful jaws, and he was making off with it to his hole when the spirit of mischief getting the better of CharUe he jumped up and hurled a stone. The otter dived, left the branch to float down the stream and did not appear again. But what could he have wanted with these branches ? If they were to be used as bedding for his young litter, surely it would have been but hard lying. TWO REQUIRED TO MAKE A FIGHT. 45 Charlie's courage was of an incomprehensible char- acter ; in contests with nature he was universally acknowledged a bold and daring leader, but when the struggle was as of man against man truth compels me to admit him somewhat of a coward. Our fishing often took us to Elyhaugh, where were several good streams, and on one occasion we there met a Mr. F of New- castle, who was fishing downwards with the natural minnow. Mr. F and I at once entered on the subject of our respective sport, and 1 found that he was chiefly a minnow-fisher. He carried in his creel the result of two days' fishing ; there were about a dozen trout varying from half a pound to a pound and a half each ; he had not one small fish among them. While I was admiring them, Charlie, to my surprise remained at some distance off, and he only came forward on my distinctly calling him to come and see the splendid lot of fish. Giving a sulky nod, for it seems there was an ancient feud between the two fishers, he looked into the Qreel and observed drily, ' Ah ! night lines, night lines ! ' Mr. F stepped forward and menacingly exclaimed, ' What's that you say ? ' ' Night lines,' was Charlie's prompt reply. In a moment F 's coat was off, and squaring up to his antagonist with raised fists he said, ' Now, you liar, come on and I'll knock you into next week.' Of course I expected a regular stand-up fight, but Charlie's courage like that of Bob Acres oozed out at his fingers' end. He backed and backed till, gaining the shelter of a stout tree, he esconced himself behind its boll, from which shelter he contented himself with peeping out and still crying ' Night lines ! ' F tried to draw him out by dodging round the tree, but Charlie was far too nimble for him. At last in despair, F put on his coat, shouldered his creel 46 GREAT FLOOD IN THE WEAE. and exclaiming, ' Ough, you dirty coward ! ' walked off in high dudgeon. Charlie did not deem it necessary to refer to this indisposition to pugilism, neither did I ; but he again declared positively that the fish had been taken with night lines, for he had noticed in a moment that the mouth of every trout was fixed as widely open as possible. ' Now,' said my Mentor, ' that is only the case when fish are taken with night lines and die slowly with the water running through their gills ; When caught fairly with fly, worm, or minnow, the mouth does not remain rigidly open.' I submit the question to my brother anglers. It is diflScult to conceive such cowardice as that I narrated proceeding from the man who in any contest with fire or water always led the way boldly, and by way of antidote to my last tale I give the following. On Sunday evening, October 16, 1824, occurred the gi'eatest flood known in the river Wear, since the year 1771, and by far. the highest during my lifetime. Many houses in the lower parts of Durham were inun- dated, the fires under the retorts at the gas works were extinguished, and the town consequently left in dark- ness. I remember the dense crowds that collected on the different bridges and the coming and going as they were alternately swayed by curiosity and by dread lest the bridges should be swept away. Evening had set in, and it was already becoming dark when word was brought in that Mark Hopper was upon the top of a haystack near to the Nab's End, surrounded by water, and that his cries for help could be distinctly heard. At once the shout was raised, ' Eun for Charlie Ebdy,' and in an incredibly short space of time a cart bearing a boat was seen coming down Old Elvet surrounded by numbers of men bearing lanterns, and screaming out THE CALF ON THE HAYSTACK. 47 their advice and opinions as to the best course of action. Proudly walked Charlie in the procession ; all deferred to him, and he did not fail to rise to the occasion. When they reached the ' Holy Drift,' the boat was launched, and Charlie accompanied by two young men as dauntless as himself, Harry Griffith and Ealph Dixon, started across the perturbed and swollen stream amid the loud cheers of the excited crowd. So deep was the water that the highest hedges were covered, but the little boat held on its course till, guided by the light of their lamp, they made out the haystack, where sat poot Mark with his arms round a calf whose rescue had nearly cost his own life. The boat was of no great size, and great was the indignation of the rowers when Mark insisted that the companion of his danger should be his fellow passenger. ' Tak care o' the calf, lads,' cried Mark lowering it into the boat. ' Come down yourself, you old fool, and let the calf be blowed,' cried Charlie. ' Tak care o' the puir calf, and aw'l be all reet,' persisted Mark ; so to keep the peace the animal was stowed away as ballast and before long the whole party were safely landed at the foot of the ' Parson's Field.' But Charlie and his comrades longed for further deeds of daring, and reshipping their oars they rowed towards the further end of the Eacecourse. All the fences were under water, and passing over them they entered the narrow part of the river where now stands the Bath Bridge. The force of the stream here was terrific, but skill and a watchful Providence brought them in safety to the back of the Waterloo Hotel, where they rowed into the stable yard to receive the congratulations of their friends. All was now thought to be ended, but not so ; 48 WORM FISHING IN THE DARK. Charlie declared his intention of conducting his boat beneath the bridge to his workshop, half a mile lower down the river. The madness of the proposal struck horror through his hearers ; but our hero was determined, and placing a lantern in the boat's bow he boldly struck out into the raging torrent. His wonderful nerve and skill guided the boat to the centre of one of the arches, and he passed beneath in safety, though it was believed that there was not more than a space of three feet be- tween the crown of the arch and the roaring water. The height of this celebrated flood is yet marked upon the wall of the University Museum. One evenkig iu June, when seated by the fireside of the inn at Weldon Bridge, Charlie and I fell into a discussion on night-fishing with worm for trout in warm weather, and we agreed that it would be well to give it a trial and ascertain how far our views were correct. ' Well then,' said I, ' no time like the present,' but Charlie was too comfortable and too sleepy to respond to my summons. So preparing my rod and line off I started to a stream half a mile down the river. The night was very dark, and I found my way with difficulty. Arriving at the intended spot I waded across a some- what deep stream to reach one still deeper near to the further bank. Standing in the water I placed a lively lob on the hook and cast my line up stream ; the worm scarcely touched the water when I felt a tug and suc- ceeded in drawing a large trout towards me. Having basketed this I threw again with the same result, and now astonishment awaited me. There was not a breath of wind — the water was flowing gently and caused but little sound, when all at once my ears were assailed by such a tumult of flsh spattering and splashing as I had never before heard ; the river seemed alive with large WORM FISHING IN THE DARK. 49 fish. My heart beat, for there seemed something un- canny in the affair ; still I persevered and succeeded in securing four more fish. Suddenly all was still ; not a fish was heard to move, and not another bite was to be had. I could neither see nor hear anything to account for the sudden change, so home I started, proud of my prize of six fish considerably larger than any we had taken in the river by daylight. The unpleasantness of angling with worms in the dark is so great that I have never tried the experiment again, but of its success there can be no doubt. 50 A STAKT rOR THE HIGHXANDS. CHAPTEK VI. ' Wlien -with his lively ray the potent sun Has pierced the streams and roused the finny race, Then, issuing cheerful, to thy sport repair ; Chief should the western breezes curling play. And light o'er ether bear the shadowy clouds. High to their fount, this day, amid the hills And woodlands, warbling round trace up the brooks, The next, pursue their rocky-channelled maze Down to the river, in whose ample wave Their little Naiads love to sport at large. Just in the dubious point, where with the pool Is mixed the trembling stream, or where it boils Around the stone, or from the hollowed bank Eeverted plays in undulating flow, There throw, nice-judging, the delusive fly. And as you lead it round in artful curve. With eye attentive mark the springing game. Strait as above the surface of the flood They wanton rise, or urged by hunger leap. Then fix with gentle twitch the barbed hook : Some lightly tossing to the grassy bank. And to the shelving shore slow dragging some With various hand proportioned to their force.' — J. Thomson. A start foe the highlands A GOOD day's SPOBT — ME. COLtBT's EVENING SCRAMBLE — HIGHLAND LOCHS AND STEBAMS — A PLTCKY SHEPHERD BOY — A SECOND HIGHLAND TUUE — A DUCKING IN THB LOCHT — MEETING WITH THE HUN. ME. CEANSTODN — A NIGHT IN A HIGHLAND COTTAGE — ALL ALONE ON THE TOP OF A EOCK ME. JOHN- STON AND THB BULL — THB OPEN-HEAETED SEA CAPTAIN TALE OF SECOND SIGHT. A.D. 1833. The time had now arrived when my ambi- tion as an angler together with my love for wild scenery A GOOD day's sport. 5 1 prompted me to wander further afield. In the summer of this year I gladly acceded to the suggestion of Mr. James C. Johnston and his brother Alexander, that we three should take a walking tour through the western Highlands of Scotland. Early in July I joined my friends in Glasgow, and we eagerly filled our pocket- books with all that was requisite for the capture of sea trout, a description of fish with which I had not yet had the good fortune to meet. Clad in black and white checked suits and wearing the Johnny-Pea hats then in vogue, knapsack on shoulder, and in our hands rods fourteen feet in length, we deemed ourselves equal to all chances and took our passage in a steamer to the mouth of the Clyde. Here we paid a visit to a relative of Mr. Johnston's and had some excellent fishing in a small stream near to her estate. On one occasion we were tempted by the excellence of the sport to wander so far along this stream that at nightfall we found our- selves in the dark, with heavy loads on our shoulders and a .steep mountain range between us and our home. It was long before we gained the pass, and even then the rugged wilderness of the way made our progress slow and laborious. Midnight found us toiUng on though weary and faint, when at last we were gladdened by hearing the voices of the servants who had been sent out with lanterns to guide us back. And soon we were seated by a bright fire with a good supper set before us^ our kind hostess entering heartily into the tale of our wanderings. Our fish were not counted till the next morning, when mine proved to be 188 trout, while each of my friends had about the same number — a good capture certainly for less than seven hours' work. Such a return journey will sometimes fall to the lot of the angler after a day's sport, and he may as well be E 2 52 ME. gullet's sckambee. prepared for it. My friend Mr. M. T. Culley has been good enough to place in my hands the record of one which still lives in his memory, and by his kind permission I am glad to give it in his own words. « The most awful scramble after a day's fishingwhich I remember occurred in the late autumn many years ago. I was then living at Kirk Newton, where the pretty streams of College and Bowmont unite to form the river Grlen. I had gone with a young friend, a London medical student, for a long day's fishing up the College. It being late in the season, whitling were more the ob- ject of our pursuit than trout, but these were scarce and shy, so we got rapidly over the ground. The scenery too was beautiful, for though summer green was gone the autmnn tints of every shade of brown contrasted well with the frowning rocks and crags which studded the hill sides. So we were lured on, nor did we stop on reaching Southern Knowe where the jimction of Fleehope and Lamsdon Bums forms the little brawling College. We proceeded up the last-named brook, climb- ing its precipitous rocks tUl it began to gi-ow dark, and then we remembered that we had some six or seven miles to walk home. So we shouldered our creels, took down our rods, and set out at a brisk pace to return. The little gorge we were descending was very narrow and precipitous, and as we approached the point where it opened on the valley of the College, the grandeur of the scene was such as I cannot forget. In front rose a huge black hill covered with what are locally called ' gKdders,' i.e, large masses of loose and broken stones : and though it actually stood on the farther side of the College valley it seemed in the evening gloom fairly to bar up the narrow opening before us, and its aspect was truly a_we-inspiring. THE VALLEY OF THE COLLEGE. 63 ' Once arrived at the turning into the vale (for narrow as it looked it really was a valley in comparison with the gorge we had left) we did pretty well for a time, but soon it became pitchy dark. The path is not over-easy to find in the daytime, and at night no one unac- quainted with the locality could possibly follow it. I did know it pretty well, but with the darkness came an awful storm of wind and rain. Painfully did we scramble on. Both of us were young, lithe, and active, the only difference being that I was a practised moun- taineer while my companion had spent most of his time in and about London, so that a scramble through a wilderness in darkness, rain, and wind was something quite new to him. Nevertheless he bore up bravely, and followed me. All at once we came to the edge of a sudden declivity. I knew of it, and slid down. My friend walked straight on into the dark at the same rapid pace as before, and lo ! crash he went to the bottom, falling through mid air in what position I know not, for nothing was visible, breaking his rod, (the reel was already broken) and bruising his bones sorely. ' Meanwhile the rain drove furiously in our faces, the wind howled and screeched, and scarcely were the tops of the lofty hills on either side of us visible against the sky, A steep and rugged ascent brought us to a narrow track lying between the steep bank that overhung the valley on the one hand and the mountain on the other. Here great care was needed. Had I not known almost every inch of the way, some serious accident must have happened. It was most diflScult to keep to the track and we floundered on through bogs and over stones with no small labour. My companion began to grumble a little. " Why," I said, " you are not half a chap ! " It was cruel, but with imperturbable good humour he 54 THE -WILLS-O'-THE WISP OF NEWTON TOR. replied, " if to be half a chap means to Uke being wet to the skin, dragged through bogs, nearly blown away and bumped almost to pieces among rocks, then I freely confess that I am no such thing." What could I say ? In truth the situation was getting past a joke. Next came a deep descent into a dark ravine ; then a steep climb up the opposite side, and we arrived at a little swampy plateau lying between the foot of the lofty Newton Tor and the cliff above the river, 'But hold! What is this? A little to our right there appeared suddenly through the thick darkness two long slender forms of life-like figures, slowly waving to and fro. A sudden and overpowering sense of awe came over us both, for it was a most unexpected appa- rition. The place was so lonely, and it was such a night ! the very night for spirits to wander. We stood and gazed, but the long wavering flames did not ap- proach. The only conclusion we could come to was that they were Wills-o'-the-Wisp, but I never heard of such being seen in that place before or since. When our first surprise, not to say alarm, passed off, we scrambled on again, and in another half-hour we arrived, wet through, worn out, and desperately hungryj at the comfortable vicarage of Kirk Newton ; but never have we forgotten that weird and startling apparition on Newton Tor.' To return to my own narration. Leaving the hos- pitable house in which we had been so kindly received,, my friends and I fished a river whose name I do not, remember, and so walked forward to the side of Loch Fine where, taking boat, we crossed in a storm of wind; and rain to Inverary. A few hours passed away at this ancient centre of the Campbells' power, and then we pressed onwards, fishing the river Inver with fair auc? A PLTJCKT SHEPHERD BOT. 55 (less and arrived at the small inn -at Clady on Friday, evening. Saturday was spent in fishing a little river which there joined Loch Awe ; the rains had made it in excellent order, and our creels were proportionally heavy. G-reatly did we enjoy our quiet two days' sojourn at this little inn. It is probable that we should now deem the accommodation of the roughest, but in those days luxuries were not expected at inns, and we were at the age when a hard bed and a rough meal sufficed. All along the west coast cf Scotland at this time almost every loch and river was free to the angler, who thus secured sport which made him indifferent to any petty discomforts of board and lodging. Hiring a boat, we crossed Loch Awe and entered upon the river which issues from it. The Awe, now so carefully preserved by rich lessees, was then an open river, but we were tOo young as fealmon-anglers and too unacquainted with its pools and streams to have any success. Our chief gain was a lovely walk to the inn at the river mouth, which we reached as the shades of evening were falling. While fishing this river, a shep* herd lad of about fifteen years of age was pointed out to us as the hero of an uncommon adventure. He was fishing for salmon late on the previous evening, and at dusk he hooked ' a monster.' Stoutly he stuck to his work, and only rested when it had become quite dark and the fish sunk to the bottom of the pool and sulked. No one was near him, no one to advise or help, so the lad, being weary, propped his rod upright against' a rock, lay down upon the ground, coiled a few turns of the lin6 round his finger and with another part of it across his mouth, slept sou'ndly till the sun rose and the fish began to move. The precautions he had taken 56 A SECOND HIGHLiND TOrK. at once awoke the young fisherman, and the struggle recommenced. At seven o'clock he was found at the river side with a beautiful fresh-run salmon weighing upwards of 20 lbs* From the Awe we fished our way by Loch Etive and the beautiful vale of Grlencoe to Fort "William. It was difficult to obtain animal food at the cottages in which we frequently had to pass the night, but some tea from our knapsack, abundance of fresh-caught trout, oat cake and sweet butter were sufficient for our wants. Youth naturally has simple tastes, and it were well if we carried these tastes on into oxa mature age. Dys- pepsia would be heard of less, and life would be longer, At Fort "William we took a steamer for Glasgow, passing through the Kyles of Bute during a lovely moonlight night. Here I first beheld the beautiful phenomena of the sea when gently agitated appearing like a sheet of gold. It is not a common one in our British seas, but I have since seen it on a grander scale in the Mediterranean. The success of our tour induced us to plan another which should take us into still wilder scenery, and we ari'anged that the same party, with the addition of a Highland servant, should start for a walking expedition in July 1834, making Fort "William our starting point, The inconvenience of travelling in a country where the language commonly spoken was unknown to us, led us to take a Gaelic servant, and we found gi-eat comfort in the additional clothing he was able to carry for* us. Our first day's fishing was in the river Lochy, which was then swollen and discoloured by recent rains ; under these circumstances it was only possible to fish with worm. "We caught a few common trout, and about A DUCKING IN THE lOCHT. 57 lialf-a-dozen fish resembliDg bull trout, coarse- looking, but making excellent running. They were from 2 to 4 lbs. weight each. The second day's sport was better 4 we fished about four miles above Fort William ; it still rained, but the water was not so dark in colour. I took forty-eight fish called finnocks (a small kind of sea trout weighing nearly half-a-pound each), altogether a heavy basket ; and when my friends opened out their creels at the hotel and showed similar spoils, it was indeed a goodly sight to see. On this occasion my greed of sport nearly cost me my life* The day was rainy, and I was encumbered with a deep waterproof cape and a heavy creel ; thus handicapped I waded far into the water, fishing slowly downwards. The stream was not more than two feet deep, which had been the average for about fifty yards, when a single step plunged me in deep water up to the neck, and the force of the stream acting on the water- proof cape carried me downward. With a feeling of despair I struck out immediately, and after a severe struggle which exhausted my strength I at last regained a firm footing. Cautiously tracking the course of the sand-bank I once more joined my alarmed companions. Deep wading in unknown rivers, especially when they are discoloured, is most dangerous, and an angler cannot take this lesson to heart too early in his career. On the third day we took a boat and rowed up Loch Shiel into Grien Finnan, a silent solitary spot, bounded by lofty rugged mountains. Here Prince Charles Edward first raised his standard in 1745, the Marquis of TuUibardine \mfurling it before the gallant though it may be reckless host. The spot is marked by a monu- ment erected to the memory of those who fought and bled in the insurrection ; and tasteless as the erection 58 THE akglbk's luncheon. was in form, we could not look upon it in that lonely wilderness without deep emotion. Again trudging forward we skirted the margin of a long loch, which we durst not pause to fish because we had many miles to travel ere we could reach the little inn where we were to sleep. There was no beaten track, and we had to depend entirely upon a small pocket map for guidance. About two o'clock we called a halt, for we were weary and hungry, and we attacked our sandwiches with a hearty goodwill. Meanwhile a gentleman of about our own age, accom- panied by dogs and gamekeeper, joined us. The sur^ roundings were such that no formality of introduction was required, so we sat down together and joining our stores made a hearty luncheon. A glass of pure water tempered with ' mountain dew ' accompanied the sports- man's great solace — his pipe. What so soothing in rain or fair weather, heat or cold ? or what conversation may compare with the charm of the silence which pre- vails while the grateful fume rises from the bowl ? Our companion told us that he was going to sleep at . the same little inn for which we were bound, and with, a cordial wish that he might meet us in the evening, he resumed his gun while we prepared to fish down a pretty little river that led us to our destination. This, river was remarkable for the vast number of old oaks which formed its bed, worn almost smooth by the torrents of centuries. The oaks were undecayed and were quite black, evidently remains of the vast forests which in primeval ages covered the country. On reaching the inn door we found our companion of the morning, who told us he was going a few miles. acToss the hills to spend the evening with a friend, but promised, in taking leave, to join us on the following VISIT TO THE HON. ME. CEAKSTOUN. 59 morning. We only learnt after his departure that he was the Hon. Mr. Cranstoun, whose family owned large estates in the district. His kindness in thus giving up to us the rooms he had engaged for himself, and which turned out to be the only ones available for visitors, bespoke him to be the courteous gentleman he really was. He rejoined us early the next morning, and fished with us down the river to Arasaig, when he invited us to the Castle. There we jpassed the next day as Mr. Cranstoun's guests in company with two young Oxonians, enjoying the return to civilized society and the liberal hospitality of our host. On the following morning he had his own boat manned, and sailed with us to Loch Nevish, where landing us at the mouth of a river he bade us good-bye, regretting his inability to- accompany us through the remainder of our tour. That evening we had some good sea trout fishing, and then sought shelter in the neatest shepherd's cottage we could find in a somewhat wretched-looking village. The people were friendly enough. A supper of fresh trout, potatoes, and tea was quickly disposed of, and we lay down in our clothes upon a bed of freshly cut heather covered with a blanket. We lay down, but not to sleep, for the smoke was stifling, there being no vent for it except a small opening in the roof. At sunrise the smoke having disappeared, we were able to look about us, and I found that a series of rafters above our heads formed the roosting place of a score or so of fowls. This dis- covery made us instantly spring from our couch, and necessitated ablutiqns more than ordinary. We were glad to make an early start across a mountain to Loch Hourn, by the side of which we had to travel, till at its' farthest end we found an inn in 60 All alone on the kock. which to rest for the night. My friends lingered behind to fish the river at Invereskie, while I pressed forward, it being understood that we were to join company again by the side of the loch. The day was warm, and on reaching the sheet of water during the afternoon I felt so fatigued that I decided to walk slowly onwards and thus shorten the distance I had to travel. But I made a mistake. My friends coming afterwards, found the track which had been named to us, passing round certain rocks, but I unfortunately overlooked it and continued my course by the edge of the loch. It was a lovely evening, the sun shining brightly, when at about six o'clock my progress was intercepted by a precipitous rock which stretched far into the water. With some labour and really no little danger I climbed to the top • of this rock, thinking that afterwards my progress would be easy. Judge of my dismay, when after a few yards of smooth grass which gradually sloped down to the loch, I came to a rocky precipice down which it was impossible to clamber. I returned in haste to the point to which I had ascended, but after two or three essays my courage failed me ; the descent was too much for my nerves. What was to be done ? a precipice on either side, insurmountable rocks behind, and the deep wide-spread lake in front. I sat down and pondered in my mind what was to done, what travellers in the like straits had done, till a kind Providence soothed me to sleep and I lay wrapped in peaceful slumbers till midnight. When I awoke a bright moon was shining overhead, not a breath of wind was stirring, all nature was still, and I sat and hatched the loch glistening in the splendour of moon- light. An hour passed in quiet oh ! how profound, and te^il- '--.,. b o W w o o 'rn*. A EESCIJEf 61 again I asked myself, how is this to end ? I was cold and depressed in spirits, and involuntarily turned my eyes to the lake as the only quarter whence deliverance could come. Listening and looking intently, I could not help imagining that a sound as of oars did steal across the water. I started up and listened, but all seemed still again. Then the voices of singers stole across the water, died away, and again there was deep silence. At length I heard both the splash of oars and the singing distinctly, and had soon after the inex- pressible joy of seeing in the far-off glimmer of the moon something like a boat. I shouted loudly, and tying a handkerchief to the top ofmy fishing rod waved it to and fro, but it seemed as if all would be in vain ; the boat continued its course for some time without any response being made to my signal. At last, however, the oars ceased to pull, and a shout of enquiry was raised. My response was energetic and prompt ; the boat gradually drew towards the rock, and I soon had the joy of stepping on board, where I met with a hearty welcome. My tale told, the rowers kindly changed their course so as to land me near my intended resting place. With many thanks I bade my rescuers farewell, and at about two in the morning rejoined my friends, who had been extremely uneasy at my non-appearance. Next day we began to fish our way by many a stream to Loch Quoich, but before arriving there an adventure occurred which may be thought worth recounting. During the afternoon, tired with our sport, Mr. Alex. Johnston, our servant, and myself, rested upon an elevated rock by the side of a charming pool in which from -time to time many a fish was to be seen. Mr. James C. Johnston had crossed the river and reached the opposite bank, where lay a flat grassy peninsula, some 62 MR. JOHNSTON AND THE B0LL. two or three hundred yards in width. In the background was a sloping hillside on which a herd of cattle grazed in quiet content. With an improvised spud our com- panion was searching for worms, when, either moved by anger at the invasion of his domain, or by am- bition to exhibit his prowess before the ladies of his harem, the lord of the herd began to move stealthily towards the intruder. Presently the beast quickened his pace, and with a bellow worthy of so lordly a bull rushed forward. The sound startled my friend, who at once saw his danger and rushed towards the river. The bank was some seven or eight feet high, but there was little time to weigh circumstances, and with a bold leap he landed in the pool, there about three feet deep. On came the bull, his tail erect, roaring and lashing him- self into additional fury ; with repeated plunges of his horns into the earth he gained the bank and paused. A leap of such depth into the water was not to his taste, and for a few moments prudence prevailed. But soon the evil spirit of pride, seldom far off from either man or beast, came into play. Some nine and thirty cows appeared upon the scene, and promenading backwards and forwards with their thirty-nine tails erect, stimu- lated their leader to deeds of daring. This appeal to his gallantry was too much ; with another bellow he leapt into the pool and made straight for my imhappy friend, who being no swimmer could only back and back into deeper and yet deeper water, till it ran gurgling into his mouth. All this time the bull was nearing his prey with glaring eye and waving tail till the two stood face to face, the water up to the nostrils of each, and not three feet of space between them. Ludicrous as the affair had been in its earlier stages it now became serious, so our servant, who was the only Li s.?s*Ks«;i?i=? l-^i ' liS^ * >\\ ■»!■ S r^ ^^ A, ■A > , p5 \ r-y ^; ':^ 4! J^'^l'' ny ^^\\ ' JIIIH' w y^-yv'^F^y i|p-if|iii EMPTY PUKSES. 63 swimmer of the party, arming himself with a thick stake, jumped into the water and swam to the scene of action. Stealthily he came behind the enraged brute, and seizing his tail firmly with one hand, so belaboured his sides with the bludgeon that the bull gave in, and after some vain attempts to horn his tormentor plunged down the stream and regained the shore by a more easy ascent. Here was an! awkward position for a would-be hero ! The thirty-nine cows awaited him with tails erect and warlike mien ; but — oh, marvellous influence of the stronger sex ! — no sooner did they perceive that their master's mood had changed, and that his tail was drooping, than they joined in pathetic sympathy, and the entire forty were soon to be seen ascending the neighbouring hill at a funereal pace, bearing their now humble and depending tails. Pale and breathless our friend was led to the shore, where we received with compunction his well-merited reproaches. I must confess that they were far milder than our neglect of him deserved, we having nothing to say in excuse except that the fun was too good to be spoiled. While we were at Loch Quoich it chanced that we made some financial researches, and came suddenly to the understanding that our joint purse only amounted .to fifteen shillings and sixpence^ and that we were strangers far from home. What was to be done ? For three days we pursued our journey on foot, walking from sunrise to sunset, and late on the third evening reached Fort William, foot-sore, hungry, tired, and penniless. We went to an hotel, hoping we should be able to pay our bill somehow, though the how was not then very clear. Next morning I went on board a steam- boat, and offering my gold watch to the captain, asked him to give the party a passage to the Clyde. With 64 THE OPEN-HEABTED SEA CAPTAIN. the frankest generosity he thrust his hand into his pocket, and drawing from it a handful of sovereigns said, ' I see how it is ; you are short of money, take what you need, and you can repay me at the end of the Voyage.' Thanking him for his kindness I took two sovereigns to pay our hotel bill, and we all embarked for Glasgow, where in good time we landed after a most enjoyable tour of four weeks. After a lapse of forty-two years I chanced during a journey in the south of England to mention this kind action of the captain's to a fellow traveller, Colonel Campbell, of Possil, who immediately identified him as Captain Turner of Fort "William, and very glad I am to know the name of the man who showed such open-handed kindness to three young strangers. Before returning to England I joined some of my acquaintances who were visiting at the house of a mutual friend, and there an incident occurred so weird and so remarkable that the impression it made can never be erased from my mind. Never before had I come into contact with second sight, that strange and mysterious gift bestowed upon certain of the dwellers . in the Highlands and islands of Scotland, And here let me say that Dr. Johnson, born as he was in an un- believing age,had too much thoughtful reverence to treat with scepticism the tales of second sight which came under his notice during. his journey to the Hebrides. Sir "Walter Scott also writes : ' If force of evidence could authorise us to believe facts inconsistent with the general laws of nature, enough might be produced in favour of the existence of the second sight ; ' and while Dr. Neale asserts that no traveller in the islands of Scotland who had really taken pains to enquire into the matter ever denied it, he further points out how second THE HIGHLAND WIDOW. 65 sight corresponds with our preconceived notions of pro- pBiecy. ' The faculty is limited ; the man who possesses it can only tell of the future when he has the vision upon him; at other times he is but like the rest of men.'^ Let me now tell my tale as told in my work on ' The Folk Lore of the Northern Counties of England and the Borders.' ' Our kind hostess was the widow of a Highlaild chief, and was descended from a family long celebrated for possessing a more than usual portion of second sight. She firmly believed that the prophetic mantle had fallen upon her, but her disposition was lively and cheerful, and being still young she had a decided preference for the society of young people. Her residence was situated on the slope of a steep hill, about half a mile from the side of a beautiful lake which it overlooked. The lake was at this point a mile at least in breadth, and on its opposite shore stood a small farmhouse with a few enclosed fields around it. The lake was several miles long, and had its egress into a river, which in winter, or when swollen by the heavy rains which are common in hilly countries, was of considerable size. The only means of crossing this river was by a stone bridge about half a mile from the end of the lake. When I have added that in the garden of our friend was an enclosure which had for centuries been the burying place of her husband's clan, and in which his remains were laid, I shall have given every particular necessary for the elu- cidation of the rest of the tale. ' A month quickly passed among the rivers and lakes of Scotland, and we found ourselves at the widow's hospitable residence. Our welcome there was kind, but before an hour had passed we could not help noticing ' CommunicRtions with the Unseen 'World, Night i. 66 THE TISION. that a gloom hung over the party lately so merry. The conversation was evidently forced. The younger ladies looked anxious and distressed, their hostess sad, almost stern, as they sat apart,- speaking little, and evidently wrapped in thought. Something unusual had plainly occurred, and we eagerly sought an evening walk with some of the younger ladies, that we might learn what had so completely transformed our hitherto cheerful hottess. ' The tale we were told was, in brief, as follows. Ahout a week previously, Mrs. F (as we will designate the widow) had appeared at the breakfast table deadly pale and with bloodshot eyes. She was reluctant to speak, and would not allow that anything was the matter, till towards evening a flood of tears relieved her, and she owned that she was distressed by a dream of the night before, so remarkable and so vivid that she felt con- vinced it would be realised. She described it thus : — ' Looking from the windows of her house, she had seen a long funeral procession come up the opposite side of the lake, from the direction of the river-bridge. When they reached the small farmhouse, the horses were taken out of the carriages and turned into an enclosure to graze ; the coffin was brought down to the lake-side^ and placed in one of the boats, while the funeral party crossed in the large ferry-boat, commonly used for con- veying cattle. On reaching the shore in front of Mrs. F 's house, the procession again formed, and pro- ceeded to the graveyard, where the funeral took place, the earth was heaped on the grave, and the mourners departed. Without calling at the house they recrossed tlie lake, harnessed their animals, and disappeared by the same road by which they had come. ' On hearing this narration the young people had THE FULFILMENT. 67 ridiciiled tlje notion of attending to the fancies of a dream, and by their bright cheerful conversation had succeeded at last in restoring Mrs. F- to something like cheerfulness. But towards evening on the follow- ing day, a horseman rode up to the door and delivered a note from the undertaker of an adjacent town. This note announced that Mrs. F 's mother-in-law had died suddenly at her residence, twenty miles off, and requested that a grave should be prepared for her in the family burying-ground. On enquiry the messenger stated that the old lady had died at an hour coincident with the remarkable dream of her daughter-in-law, after a very slight indisposition of which, in consequence of a family disagreement, Mrs. F had not heard. ' The whole party was struck with awe. The widow quietly observed, " You see it is true," and retired to her own room for the rest of the day. On the fifth day the funeral took place, actually fulfilling, contrary to all likelihood, every circumstance connected with the dream. The old lady had died at her own residence the road from which ran by the same side of the nver and lake as Mrs. F 's house ; it was therefore most improbable that the funeral procession should cross the lake. But all was to be accomplished. On the night preceding the burial a dreadful thunderstorm swept away the stone bridge which spanned one of the moun- tain streams that flowed into the lake about a mile from Mrs. F 's house. The result was that the funeral party was unable to proceed by the road. They could not ford the stream, now a raging torrent, so they re- traced their steps, and crossing the river, continued their journey on the opposite side of the lake. The lady of the house saw aU from her windows — the horses tvjrned loose to graze, the boats occupied exactly as r 2 68 ALL ACCOMPLISHED. foretold to her, the funeral completed, the last sod heaped on the grave, and the party turning away with- out even calling at the house of the nearest connection of the deceased. For the second time she saw it all ; but with what feelings who shall dare to say ? ' FISHING IN THE WEAR. 69 CHAPTEE Vir. ' When genial Spring a living warmth bestows, And o'er the year her verdant mantle throws, No swelling inundation hides the grounds, But crystal currents glide within their bounds ; The finny brood their wonted haunts forsake, Float in the sun, and skim along the lake. With frequent leap they range the shallow streams. Their silver coats reflect the dazzling beams. Now let the fisherman his toils prepare. And arm himself with every watery snare ; His hooks, his lines, peruse with careful eye Increase his tackle, and his rod retie.' — John Gtay. CUABLIE AND PIGGY— LIST Or SPOET IN THE COQUET THE ' BED- TAILED 'uN ' ^- EXCURSION TO DEIFFIELD COLONEL CHILDEES AND ME. MUSTEBS — THE SHOTHAUQH DOG AND HIS ALLIES. During several years I accomplished a visit with Charlie. Ebdy to Weldon Bridge every Easter, but still there. were long intervals in the angling season to be disposed of; so to keep our hands in practice we occasionally took a day's fishing in the Wear or the Browney. It was on a lovely morning in the merry month of May, that we walked to Smiderland Bridge and com- menced our day's work in the Wear. Adopting our usual plan, we began fishing up stream with worm, but it proved to be too early in the season, and on, our reach 70 CHARLIE AND Pia&T. ing Pagebank about one o'clock, I had only basketed twelve trout, and Charlie a few more. We accordingly put on our fly tackle, and returned fishing down stream. The result was the best day's sport that I ever had in the Wear ; iour dozen fell to my share, and upwards of five to Charlie's. When we arrived at Sunderland Bridge, Charlie again put on the worm and tried the beautiful streani which flows immediately below ; it was however too late in the day, and he had no success. Thoroughly tired oni we went into the -little inn to recruit ourselves with a glass of beer and a crust of bread. Scarcely had we paad the reckoning ere we were startled by a crash and a wild grunt, and rushing to the door we found a half-grown pig making off with Charlie's rod. It had been placed at the inn door with a tempting worm still on the hook, and this had proved poor Piggy's bane ; Charlie quickly seized his rod, and then a most laughable contest began. Unwilling to break either rod or line, Charlie continued the chase, playing his game with gentle hand. Piggy took the bridge, and dodged several times to rid himself of the line which held him. To make matters worse, ' a cur of low degree,' excited by the contest, flew at Piggy's legs, on which the poor brute, sore bestead and evidently in excellent racing condition, gallantly breastfed the steep bank which leads to Ferry hill. Away went Charlie^ the pig and the cur, till finding the run too sevei-ei for him, Charlie «aved in, and with a dextetous turn of hife wrist snapped the line, leaving poor Piggy atid the cur in full gallop towards Darlington. Putting on an easy appearance of unconcern, Charlie aild I walked past the inn and onwards towards the old city as though we Were in no way connected with Piggy's excursion. K 'i :^i/. isr i ' Hr ill -' '•* 5f ,7 '• '/" LIST OF SPORT IN THE COQUET. 71 I now give the earliest detailed list of sport in the Coquet which I find among my manuscripts. 1835 J. H. FOBSTBR C. Ebdt W. Henbbbson April 27 . . 36 60 33 „ 28 . . 20 . 45 39 „ 29 . . 34 74 . 48 „ 30 . . 48 69 43 May 1 . . 5 37 9 „ 2 . . 29 44 36 172 329 208 The number of fish taken was not so great as usual, indeed at the following Easter, i.e. A.D. 1836, the same three rods captured during three days 575 trout. The circumstances under which this was done were pecu- liar, and impressed themselves upon my memory as con- firming the opinion of many anglers that in the early days of spring the heaviest baskets are frequently mad^ in cold weather. Not only was ' Cheviot's head still white with snow,' but on each of the three days several slight showers fell in the valleys, and the air was raw and damp. We could do but little in the streams, they were too cold for the fish to inhabit, so we confined our- selves to the shallow pools, where we were aided by a gentle wind from the east. Up to midday scarcely a trout broke the surface of the water, but then, as if knowing that the time when flies might be expected was short, they made up for it by a voracity I have rarely seen equalled. Casting our flies up the river, then rippled by the breeze, we were ourselves invisible and almost every throw was rewarded either by a rise or the basketing of a fish, while many times we took two and sometimes three at a cast. My best fly was the ' blue dun,' and on the first afternoon I found that the trout bit this so hard that there was nothing left but 72 THE 'eed-tailed 'un.' the dubbing, and about the eighth of an inch of br%ht red silk which had been accidentally used in the tying. I pointed this out to Charlie, who said, ' Never mind, the fish are taking it as well as if all the feathers were on. Throw away, there is no time to be lost.' I went on accordingly, and did find marvellous sport. That evening we sat in council on this singular fly, and it was decided that Charlie should rise early and dress half a dozen ' blue duns ' with the ordinary feathers, but adding thereto a pendant tail of bright red silk. Oar second and third days proceeded as satisfactorily as the first. The ' red-tailed 'un,' as Charlie dubbed his creation, killed the bulk of the fish, and a total of 575 for three rods in three days attest its high merits. Naturally, in our succeeding visits to Coquet, our blue duns bore red tails in bold defiance of entomology. The next month brought with it an invitation from Mr. James C. Johnston to meet him at Driffield, in East Yorkshire, and there try our fortune in the celebrated beck which runs near it. The time chosen was that in which the flight of ' golden drakes ' (most beautiful of river flies) was thick upon the streams, and consequently on our reaching the Bell Inn, we found many angler* assembled to take advantage of the season so favourable; for sport. By the payment of a guinea each we secured tickets which gave us two days' fishing. Early on the following morning we walked about two miles down the river, and then commenced fishing up stream. We tried every fly which we considered likely to ensnare^ and many a golden drake was cast upon the water, but all without success. The water was clear, the sun shone brightly, and as if to spite us the air was absolutely still- Chagrined by defeat we resorted to our own peculiar style, and taking some small worms and the finest tackle, COLONEL CHILDERS AND MK. MUSTEBS. 73 we crept beneath the bushes, and casting ' far oflf and fine ' succeeded better. We left off early in the after- noon ; still my take was eight fish, varying from one to one and a half pounds each, while my friend's, creel showed nearly the same results. In the evening the waiter at the inn ventured to ask whether we had had any sport, to which we replied in the affirmative telling' him to look in our creels beneath the sideboard. With a face in which the utmost astonishment was figured he enquired whether we had really caught all that he saw, and on being assured of this he begged permission to show the creels to two gentlemen who were in another room. Leave was granted, and he soon returned with two cards bearing the names of ' Colonel Childers ' and ' Mr. John Musters,' and a kind message asking us to join them at their wine. "We found them very agreeable, and soon were deep in talk upon the various modes of angling, many a question being asked about our system of fishing in clear water with worm of which they had never heard. On the following morning Colonel Childers, under my guidance, took his first lesson in worm fishing. It was not wasted on him, for he was by instinct a sports- man, and having taken three fine trout, he left me with many expressions of thanks. The day was again hot, but there was a little breeze blowing up stream. Favoured by this we took the afternoon's fishing in the shallow dubs, where the water was indeed seldom six inches deep. Our success was decided, my capture being sixteen trout, weighing 20 lbs. A curious adventure befell my companion. Observing a small tributary flow^ ing through a mill a short distance from the river, we made trial of it, but my friend was attracted by a large pool immediately below the mill, where a score of ducks were swimming in evident enjoyment. After making 74 THE TEOUT AMOKG THE BUCKS. several unsuccessful throws with fly, the spirit of mis- fchief came over him, and crying out, ' Here goes for a duck I ' he cast his line into the very middle of the brood. With no small alarm he felt the line tighten and saw the ducks spattering in every direction, leaving him, he never doubted, to fight it out with one of them who had dived under water. Several minutes passed and still the supposed duck remained below t?ie sm-face, pulling and tugging as if it were mad. At length a noble trout sprang out of the water, and the truth was revealed. Putting forth all his skill the amazed angler, after a severe contest of half an hour, succeeded in land- ing the largest fish we had yet taken. It was carried straight into the mill, and when weighed proved to be 3| lbs. It was strange to find so large a fish in such a shallow pool ; still stranger to hook it in the toiddle of a brood of ducks. Our success in these two days' fishing was such as to create a feeling, of alarm among the members of the Driffield Angling Club. The art of worm fishing was not understood among them, and the result of their deliberations when next they met was a declaration that such sport would ruin the river, and a resolution prohibiting all worm fishing in their beck for ever. I cannot close my narrative«of this short campaign without some reference to the two gentlemen with whoto on its first day we had the pleasure of becoming acquainted. The names of both may be considered historical. Colonel Cbilders had been for many years a leader in the sporting world, and an authority whose opinion was considered decisive in almost every de- scription of sport. Mr. Musters goes down to posterity with a reflected light. As the husband of the beauti-f ful and gifted Mary Ch.j worth, his name appears in the THE SHOTHAtTGH-DOG. 75 biographies of Lord Byron. She was the first and purest of the poet's many loves ; that his early affec- tion for her met with a cold response was probably hia greatest misfortune, and he has himself recorded his deliberate persuasion that the disappointment exercised a deep and lasting influence on his subsequent career. Had Lord Byron been so happy as to win Mary Chaworth, his genius might have expanded in poetry wherein religion and morality would have been the rule and not the exception. The inonth of June found us once more on the banks of the Coquet. We made our head-quarters at the village of Felton, whose romantic situation beneath the steep banks on the south side of the river always charmed me. The season was so far advanced that fly iishing was useless, and as the water was low and clear our only resource was the worm. We usually walked two miles up the right bank of the river before com- mehcing, and thus passed close by the ruins of an old tower, named I believe Shothaugh. Adjoining the tower were a farmhouse and yard, and in the yard was chained a large dog whose wild rage as we walked by him showed his savage disposition. One morning we observed that he was worse than ever, and were not sorry on our return in the evening to find him absent from his kennel. But our satisfaction was short-lived. Scarcely had we proceeded a hundred yards when the brute, with loud barking and glaring eyeSj dashed after us. Charlie, ever prompt in action, cried out ' Catch up some stones and stand back to back, or he will worry us.' Eapidly arming ourselves and stooping down as if to pick up more stones, we awaited the attack ; the dog evidently weighed the position in his mind, for 76 HIS SECOND CHAEGE. after circling round us two or three times he drew off and .returned to the farmyard. Heartily congratulating ourselves on the animal's retreat we pressed onwards, and had just got over a hill, which shut out the tower from our view, when we heard a chorus of ' Yelp, yelp, yelp ! ' To our ears it was neither a ' musical discord ' nor ' sweet thunder.' ' Good heavens ! ' cried Charlie, ' we are hunted ; more stones, and stand firm, or we are dead men.' With hands and pockets laden with stones we stood again back to back, and looked anxiously to the ridge of the hill to see what enemies we had to encounter* Ere two minutes had passed, our former antagonist came rushing on with four other dogs, all open-mouthed and barking furiously. As before they began by circling round us, gradually drawing nearer and nearer. Now appeared the value of Charlie's wonderful precision of aim. Selecting the leader of the pack, he hurled a large stone which struck the brute on the head and rolled him over, while at the same instant I succeeded in hitting a collie severely on the side. On this the whole pack receded to some distance, and after circling sullenly round us two or three times they disappeared slowly over the hill, and we were left at liberty to pursue our way. After such an experience how can I hesitate to be-, lieve that the dog who first attacked us did in some way communicate his thoughts to the other four, and that the brute creation have some mode of interchanging feelings and perceptions of the nature of which we are at present ignorant ? BOEDER STREAMS. 77 CHAPTER VIII. ' I care not, I, to fish in seas, Fresh rivers best my mind do please, Whose sweet calm course I contemplate. And seek in life to imitate,' — Izaak Walton. BOEDKB STBEAMS — STOEM ON THE QLIiN — ' TKH BHOOM's IN THE basket' — CHABAOTEBISTICa OP THE GLEN —MY FIRST PIKE — THE GIPSY BKIDE AND QEOOM — GOLDEN DATS FOE ANGLEES — STEICTUEES ON MODERN SPOHT. The year 1837 marked a great change in my fishing arrangements. Hitherto, with the exception of my two Highland tours, my sport had been chiefly confined to the Wear and the Coquet ; now it was to include the Glen with its picturesque Bell of Yeavering ; the Tweed, dear to the angler as to the poet ; the Till, so deadly, for ^11 it flows so still ; the Bowmont, slowly stealing through its peaceful vale ; the Eden, tumbling from the rocks of Newton Don, spot beloved alike by fishermen and lovers true ; the Breamish, scene of ah ! how many happy hours enshrined in my memory ; the Cale, flowing beneath the Dragon's Lair, and the White- adder, which from its long trailing in snake-like coils first gained its loathsome name. Within three years I visited all these streams, and the choice of locality for each campaign was generally decided by the caprice of the moment. In the middle 78 SIORM ON THE GLEN. of June, 1837, Charlie Ebdy and I found ourselves once more at Weldon Bridge. Although this is the best time in the year for the true worm-fisher, circumstances were against us. There had been a long drought, and the fine weather had brought more than the usual number of anglers to the Coquet. Their presence, and the foul state of the water disgusted Charlie, and he proposed that we should try the river Glen, where it was said excellent sport was to be had. Accordingly, the next morning, we took our seats on the Highflyer coach, and soon after noon were set down at the well-known Black Bull Inn at Wooler. It was not our wont to lose even an hour when fishing was in question; so we started at once for Akeld Bridge where we intended to begin work. The afternoon was sultry, black ominous-looking clouds were banked high upon the horizon, and we were still half-a-mile from our destination, when the storm broke over our heads. Flash followed flash with startling rapidity, while the continued roar of thunder almost deafened us. Then came a deluge of rain such as I suppose people mean to denote when they talk of its raining ' dogs and cats.' We found the hedge under which we had taken shelter a mere sieve, and bolting through the down-pouring torrent, we sought a refuge in the cart-sheds of Akeld farm. For upwards of an hour the storm continued ; then it suddenly ceased. The sun shone out brightly, the birds began their even- song, and all nature, though dropping with water, smiled sweetly, reminding me of the passion of a little child who begins with screams, passes into tearSj then turning to its mother with a smile quickly forgets its grief in the sunshine of returning happiness. Immediately above Akeld Bridge we put on our tackle and surveyed the lovely stream before us. New THE broom's in THE BASKET. 79 as was the scene, we understood at a glance that the river, though as yet but slightly discoloured, had already risen a few inches and was still rising. All this was in our favour ; the long drought had obliged the trout to feed chiefly on the cadis which rest among the gravel, and instinct told them that this increase of water would bring down a vast and varied store of food, which soon proved to be the case. The water was, as it >yere, alive with fish. At every cast of the line the worm was greedily seized by the larger fish, to whom at feed- ing time the smaller fry must needs give place. Never did I behold a colony of fish so eager for self-destrao- tion. It was about five o'clock when we commenced, and by half-past eight when we reached the Fox-hole's pool, our baskets were full, and would hold no more. We had each of us from eighteen to twenty pounds weight of trout. On this occasion Charlie first instituted a regulation to which we strictly adhered ever after. As we walked home he noticed that my basket was so full that the fish kept falling out of the mouth at the top. On this he cut a couple of branches of broom, and thrusting in one across the mouth of each basket declared that hence- forward there should be a race between us in fishing, and that the signal of victory should be the first placing of the broom twig in the mouth of the basket. Many and many a struggle followed between us, and proud indeed was I when in happy hour I was the first to cry ' The broom's in the basket !' Fully to realise this feeling an angler must be young, and competing with such a master of the art as Charlie certainly was. I have since those days fished many rivers, and have had ample opportunities for comparing them with the Grlen. There are same in which heavier baskets may '80 CHAEACTEKISTICS OF THE GLEN. occasionally be made. The Tweed and the Till furnish larger fish ; the College may offer greater numbers ; but take them all for all, there is no Border river which to my mind supplies such good and certain sport as the Glen. No other presents water so varied with pool and stream, none in which these varieties so rapidly succeed each other. Whether the day be bright or cloudy, the air still or alive with a brisk breeze that curls the dubs, the angler always has a chance which only needs care and judgment on his part to ensure success. In those days I was young and active, while Charlie was in the prime of manhood ; still on looking back I am surprised at the amount of exercise we took daily. Every morning we started early from Wooler, and seldom ceased fishing till we had reached the point at which the Bowmont and College uniting form the Grien. We usually began to retrace our steps about five o'clock, and a walk of six miles brought us home after being on foot eleven or twelve hours of each day. After fishing to the junction, we frequently tried the deep pools which terminate the course of the Bowmont and are known by the name of the Pike-holes. One afternoon Charlie proposed that we should change our tackle, and try our luck among the pike which were said to dwell there. To be sure our light trout rods were not very fit for the work, but we seldom stood on such trifles, so taking a brace of small trout as baits we began. It was my first essay in trolling, and I found that a light thirteen-foot trout rod made . erratic casting. Charlie was not long however in hook- ing a fish so large that the excitement incident to him on such occasions possessed him violently. ' A salmon ! a salmon ! ' shouted he as he began his extraordinary antics, dancing and whooping as if he were demented. . MT HEST PIKE. 81 It was not till after a very severe run of more than half an hour that the fish was landed, and then it proved no salmon but a magnificent pike of 9 lbs. weight ; a tri- umph for Charlie certainly, and being a change in our ordinary sport a peculiarly gratifying one. It was now my turn for a piece of luck. Casting my line by the side of a hazel bush I distinctly saw a jack, of about 3 lbs. weight, rush along the surface of the pool and seize the bait. A short struggle ensued, and he got away. . This was repeated three times by the fish ; each time he seized the bait, was dragged a few yards and then gave it up. At last I changed my tactics and on his taking the bait for the fourth time I remained passive, and allowing him a minute to swallow the trout drew him to bank. This was my first pike. Since then I have had few opportunities of fishing for pike, and indeed have seldom made use of those which did come in my way, the sport not possessing much attraction for me. During this trip I witnessed a scene which deeply moved my sympathies. We were returning from our