The Compleat Angler hasn’t been out of print since 1653. We look at Izaak Walton and Charles Cotton’s exploration of England’s rural delights – much of which focused on the Peak District and Derbyshire.
Few people have never heard of Izaak Walton, author of the most famous book on the art of fishing ever written, and a classic of English literature.
Interestingly, The Compleat Angler, first published in 1653 and never out of print since, appeared during the Commonwealth era, after a civil war that tore the country apart - with Oliver Cromwell styling himself Lord Protector, imposing an austere, Puritan ideology upon the land.
Although religious toleration was established, the celebration of traditional customs that bore the taint of popery or paganism was forbidden, since piety in a quasi-theocracy tolerated few ‘questionable’ old and hallowed pastimes.
Life, for the obedient and acquiescent majority, became dreary and joyless.
However, for some free spirits, the countryside provided a natural refuge and salvation from pious prating and proscribing.
And the countryside that appealed most to Izaak Walton, and his young literary and angling companion, Charles Cotton, of Beresford Hall, in the Peak District, was that of Derbyshire.
Its villages, by-ways and rugged natural beauty were beyond compare, then as now, and gave inspiration to those who breathed its air.
In a religious age, both men were of the ilk who thought that man is perhaps closer to God when he stoops, rather than when he soars, and Izaak’s ‘book of the outdoors’ set the stage for a further chapter in this healthy, rustic vein.
Cotton’s supplement to the Compleat Angler, entitled The Compleat Angler Part II (published 1676), focusing on fly-fishing in and around the River Dove. The last edition has become one of the most regularly reprinted books in English literature.
It offers us a glimpse of what the Peak District was like in the third quarter of the 17th century, after the return of the Crown in 1660, with travel and fishing being featured for the delight of those who appreciated both aspects of the outdoors.
Nature restores the soul, as both men knew, and dalliance by a river, either in solitude or in good company, is restorative, as well as being informative - as any lover of the great outdoors can attest.
The Derwent has been a magnet for anglers and nature lovers – not to mention artists – for centuries.
Anyone who has stood on the old bridge over the river at Matlock and looked downstream knows what sunshine does to gently flowing water amid leafy scenery, complete with an imposing castle in the background.
The view prompts one to imagine what Izaak and Charles must have felt when anticipating a day by any river – especially the Dove, the Holy Grail of any Walton-Cotton fishing expedition.
Not for nothing, then, did Izaak, a Staffordshire man, adopt Derbyshire as his own, building a fishing lodge by the Dove in 1674, with Charles, and the words Piscatoribus Sacrum (‘Dedicated to Fish’) inscribed over its door.
It still stands today, about the size of a double garage, a quaint mix of stone, slate and wood, testament to a love of the riverside. Indeed, Charles learned to fly-fish thereabouts, taught by Izaak himself in the 1640s.
Perhaps it was through his angling indebtedness to Izaak, and perhaps through his admiration of a man who kept his sanity after losing a wife and seven infant children, all by the age of 47, that Charles Cotton wrote the companion piece to Izaak’s book.
At any rate, the Peak District that the pair loved is made known to us by the literary device of two travellers chatting on a journey through the countryside, commenting on the scenery that unfolds before them in their progress on horseback - a sort of anglers’ Pilgrim’s Progress, with the Peak as backdrop to the ‘fishy’ dialogue.
Their journey, incidentally, follows the area of the Dove valley, in the old Wirksworth Hundred.
In The Compleat Angler, the two men, Piscator Junior (junior fisherman to Izaak Walton, aka Charles Cotton), with a servant, and Viator (traveller) meet in happenstance, and spend three days in each other’s company during March, 1675 - one eventually teaching the other the skills necessary for fly-fishing for trout, in addition to the appreciation of the Peak.
Soon after their meeting, and conversing amicably, they approach the town of Ashbourn [sic], around which is a ‘large measure of good land’ but with ‘foul ways.’
This observation prompts Charles to quote a proverb: ‘There is good land where there is foul way’ meaning, he says, that the riches of the countryside and the traffic to and from the town, with loaded pack horses travelling on wide but muddy roads, speak well of things.
Malt, wool, lead and coal are the produce of Derbyshire, along with good beef and mutton, and of course, that which the rivers afford.
And the countryside is blessed with delightful brooks, rivulets and rivers, ‘all full of trouts,’ the waters being clear beyond compare in all of England and Europe.
Traveller promptly wishes himself a Derbyshire man, or least, ‘one who might live in it.’ Praise indeed from an Essex gentleman.
Charles, delighted with this compliment, invites his companion to stay a night or two at his home, some six miles beyond Ashbourne, situated by one of the finest rivers for trout and grayling in England, the Dove - complete with a fishing lodge.
Traveller gladly accepts, and the pair ride down Spittle Hill into the town. They cross the ‘pretty river’ Henmore and make for the welcoming Talbot Inn.
A pause in progress is deemed appropriate, and a flagon of the best Derbyshire ale is ordered. Traveller is welcomed to the Peak in traditional fashion, and the ale duly quaffed.
The town however (but not the Talbot Inn?), is said to have the worst ale in England, despite having the best malt.
Oh dear. I am sure things have improved for ale drinkers in the town since 1676!
Leaving Ashbourne (of dubious ale fame) in the afternoon, Traveller is cautioned to look about him as he rides: ‘You will see an odd country, and sights that will seem strange to you’ Charles mentions intriguingly.
The southerner, almost on cue, is taken with the imposing hills beyond.
‘Bless me, what mountains are here! Are we not in Wales?’ he quips, and then promptly balks at the prospect of riding through ‘high, bleak and craggy’ terrain, albeit laced by the prettiest rivers he has ever seen.
His fears are allayed, though he shows a natural inclination to dismount at the first piece of problem escarpment, ford or bridge.
‘I hope … that I may have the liberty to entrust my neck to the fidelity of my feet, rather than to those of my horse: for I have no more at home.’
The witty comment elicits a modicum of sympathy from Charles. Peak terrain can be challenging - even on foot, and Traveller is apprehensive, with good reason.
On more than one occasion, he fears falling and breaking his neck, then having his horse topple on him for good measure, in landscapes as ‘steep as a penthouse’ which for him meant a defensive structure perched atop a castle wall. And dismount he does … from time to time.
Bently Brook [sic] is forded without mishap, prompting Charles to inform his companion about Derbyshire rivers, and in particular, his beloved Dove, which divides Derbyshire from Staffordshire, and which springs from peat moss some six or seven miles from Charles’ house.
By the time it reaches his home, he says, the river is ‘one of the purest crystalline streams’ imaginable, cleansed by large springs as it passes through limestone scenery.
Interestingly, Charles states that all the rivers of Derbyshire are what he terms ‘black water rivers’ at their source, but then cleanse themselves after a few miles, thereby presenting Derbyshire folk with pristine water in all seasons.
Further, he explains in a thumbnail geography lesson, Derbyshire rivers are marvels of nature.
The mighty Trent, with Burton, Swarkeston, Dunnington [sic], Nottingham, Newark, Gainsborough and Kingston-Upon-Hull delineating its path, is the result of some 30 rivers forging it, making it ‘one of the finest rivers in the world, abounding with excellent salmon, and all sorts of delicate fish.’
Well, perhaps such was its status in 1676, but it has not always been so.
The Trent has been cleaned considerably since I lived in Sawley, by Trent Lock, in the 1950s and 60s, when disregard blighted it with all manner of animal, vegetable and mineral debris.
Environmental consciousness has, today, brought the river back to its 1676 state, and Izaak and Charles would doubtless approve. Long Eaton and district anglers, walkers and boaters, nowadays, almost certainly do.
Other, smaller rivers of beauty for Charles, namely the Wye, Bradford and Lathkin, are cited, the latter being ‘by many degrees, the purest and most transparent stream that ever I saw,’ home to the ‘reddest and best trouts in England.’
And the darling Dove, running by the villages of Ashford, Bakewell, Haddon and Rowsley, and thence to the Derwent, has fine trout and grayling, also said to be the best in Derbyshire.
The Derwent, from its peat moss-black water source at Bleaklow, in the north of the county, but without the benefit of crystal springs to ‘wash and cleanse it’, flows like a watery ‘backbone’ down the entire length of Derbyshire.
Its course of 66 miles takes it through the lovely countryside of Chatsworth, Darley and Matlock, then on to Derby, Burrowash [sic] and Awberson, joining the Trent at Wildon [sic]. It is also eventually blessed with clear water and choice salmon.
The eastern side of the county also boasts rivers of note, such as the Eroways [sic] and Awber, states Charles, all yielding trout. But none compares with the Dove for fishing or beauty of surrounding countryside.
A negative note, however, enters the conversation.
The area, says Traveller, somewhat concernedly, lacks churches, making him think it perhaps a ‘stage or two beyond Christendom.’
Derbyshire? Beyond the Christian pale? True, the Peak, not being overly planted with villages, might appear lacking in churches to idle observation, if not overlooked entirely within the landscape.
But if churches are apparently lacking, then so too are Peak District bridges: if present, they are narrow - dangerously so.
One in particular, over the Dove at Milldale, is marveled at for its width, Traveller asking, rather mischievously, if everyone uses wheelbarrows, it is so narrow. ‘A mouse can hardly go over it; it is not two fingers broad.’ Charles is mildly amused.
Viator’s Bridge, as it is now known from this literary incident, is indeed challenging in its width. Medieval in origin, it originally had no walls, so that pack horses with panniers could negotiate it without difficulty.
But by 1676, it had acquired walls, and over it squeezes each horse and rider, with Traveller, yet again, being nervous about his safety.
And having seen and traversed the bridge, now a treasured National Monument, one can understand his incredulity. It is narrow.
They then ride on to nearby Beresford Hall, in the ‘More-Lands’ replete with servants, sack, and supper.
The guest is given Izaak Walton’s bedchamber, no less, and a lantern, pipe, tobacco, and a bottle of More-Lands’ ale.
Derbyshire hospitality at its 17th century best and all by the famed Dove. What more could one ask?
The following two days sees the pair by the river, with Charles instructing his companion in the techniques of fly-fishing.
Traveller declares the fishing lodge, where they base each day’s activities, to be admirable, with ‘fine lights, finely wainscoted and all exceedingly neat, with a marble table and all in the middle.’
Of course, the attending servants from the Hall help make the days idyllic, with a ready supply of food, drink and tobacco.
And the Dove fulfills all expectations for Traveller, both as a neophyte fly-fisherman, and a newly-won-over Derbyshire Peak lover.
Charles then enquires of his guest: ‘And now Sir, what do you think of our river Dove?’
The answer is as one might expect:
‘I think it to be the best-trout river in England; and I am so far in love with it, that if it were mine, and that I could keep it to myself, I would not exchange that water for all the land it runs over, to be totally debarred from it.’
Of course, it is not just the Dove that is instrumental in shaping Traveller’s reply. The landscape through which all Peak rivers flow makes for a great sensory and atmospheric experience, exactly as Charles tried to convey in his 1676 publication.
It also serves to show how little things have changed, despite the passing of 347 years - with Ashbourne ale, of course, being a possible exception!
By way of conclusion, host Charles treats his guest to a fine trout meal on their final evening together, prepared as Izaak Walton had taught him with local Derbyshire trout caught from the county’s abundant rivers, of course, the star attraction.
