In June, 1850, I chanced to go down to the bank of the Ribble, and there I saw a column of small Eels steadily making their way up the stream. I should suppose there might be fifty in every lineal yard, for they kept pretty close to the bank, apparently because they met with less resistance from the stream, and without pretending to accuracy I supposed they travelled at the rate of a mile an hour. This was about five o'clock in the afternoon, and I went to look for them about nine in the evening—they were still going in one unbroken column. How long they had been going when I first saw them, and how long they continued to go after my second visit, I don't know, but many thousands—perhaps millions—must have passed that day. At this rate (of a mile an hour) they would have required little more than two days to reach G. H.'s pond, fifty miles from the sea; but he says they had to pass over three or four waterfalls and a perpendicular sluice-board. If these waterfalls and the sluice-board were covered with moss, they would climb them as readily as a cat does a ladder. I have seen them in swarms at a perpendicular weir here, winding their way through the damp moss with which the stones are covered; but this was not all: where there was no moss, the little things seemed to have the power of adhering to the perpendicular face of the stones, like so many snails. I must not omit to remark, that although they seemed to choose the margin of the stream for the sake of easier travelling, yet they took care to keep in the stream, as I had a nice opportunity of observing.
At the point where I first saw them, the tail goit of a water- wheel had its junction with the river, but being Sunday there was no current there—not a single Eel took its course up the goit, although the water was deeper there than where they went. The water being low and perfectly clear, I could trace their course both above and below the place where I stood without any difficulty.
If we allowed that they travelled a mile in the hour, and that the obstructions of the waterfalls and sluice-board took as long to get over as all the rest of the journey, they would be able to reach G. H.'s pond in four days from the sea; and from what I have seen of their ability to surmount such obstructions, I am quite convinced that they would travel that distance in the time. But say they were a week—they would not grow much in that time, particularly if they had been travelling without food the whole of the distance, and that they must have done so, is proved to my mind by their keeping in column; for if they had dispersed to seek for food, by what contrivance were they marshalled into line again, to enable them to proceed? Now the place I saw them is forty miles from the sea, although not that distance from salt- water. T. says it is no proof that Eels are bred in fresh water because they may be found in ponds having no connection with a river—the proof required is ab ovo. If we wait for this proof I fear we will have to wait for some time, for I fancy that no one but Mr. Boccius ever saw the ova of Eels, and he will not condescend to enlighten us on the subject. At the same time I admit that finding them there is no proof that they were bred there, inasmuch as I have myself stocked such ponds for my friends, and what I have done may be done by others.
T. says further there is also room for inquiry into another curious subject—do Eels return to fresh water after having gone to the sea for spawning? In reply to this, I can only say, that no trace of such a migration is ever seen here, and I think if it existed at all, I should have observed it, for the following reasons.
The Ribble here supplies a large mill, the water-wheels of which are 150 horse-power; therefore, when they are at work in the daytime, the whole force of the river is often passing through the mill-lead (goit) and the bed of the river between the weir, and the tail goit in such times is left dry, except in a few pools. If there was a shoal of Eels between these two points it would have been seen at one time or another, and this has never happened, so far as I know. It may be said that they migrate singly, but they don't do so in their first migration, and, so far as I am aware, it is not the habit of any animal to do so. Herrings, Pilchards, Smelts, Flounders, Sturgeon, Bisons, Antelopes, Woodcocks, Swallows, Fieldfares, Locusts, and even Butterflies congregate together previous to migration.
NOTE.—The last paragraph requires some modification, as I have since proved that Eels migrate singly when going to the sea, as I have had occasion to know in a hundred cases when watching my Eel- trap, where every Eel may be seen as it descends into the trap.
On the same subject.
I [Jeremiah Garnett, brother of the writer, and editor of the "Manchester Guardian,">[ having noticed the communications on this subject which have recently appeared in your columns, am desirous of mentioning a fact which appears to me to throw some light upon the localities in which Eels are bred, though it leaves the question of the mode of generation precisely where it stood before.
Like your correspondent T. G., I have many times seen columns of small Eels ascending the Ribble and other rivers in the months of May and June, at considerable distances from the sea, but only on one occasion have I seen them under circumstances which evidently brought them near the place of their nativity.
I happened to be attending the Lancaster Spring Assizes in the month of March in the year 1826, and learning that there was a remarkably high tide in the estuary of the Lune, I walked down to the riverside about the time of high water, and found that the tide had covered the grass in many places; and as it began to ebb, I observed something moving in every small hollow which had been overflowed, and in which a little water had been left behind. On examination I found that the moving bodies were exceedingly diminutive Eels, rather less, to the best of my recollection, than three-quarters of an inch long, and almost transparent, but exhibiting in every respect the true form of the mature Eel. They had evidently followed the water to its extreme verge, where it could not have been more than an inch deep, and that they must have been very numerous was clear from the large numbers which were left behind and had perished—for that they did perish I found on the following day, when they were lying dead on the grass by hundreds. Some of your correspondents who reside in localities favourable for making observations on this subject may be induced to pay attention to it; the exact appearance may be ascertained, with probably other facts calculated to throw light on the obscure question of their generation.