The task of supplying the fish-market of Athens and other cities must have required a large number of fishermen. For at this time fish might almost be called the national dish, hence an enormous consumption, whereas the means of capture were far inferior to those of to-day. As a matter of fact the market was supplied from a very wide area, but chiefly from the seas to the east. Far along the north and south shores of the Black Sea the industry was a flourishing one. Particularly from these regions were salted and dried fish supplied. Here they were prepared in the huts of the individual fisherman and were gathered up by the traders, who sailed their little boats far and wide in search of traffic. The fish were exchanged for merchandise, especially for earthen utensils and for clothing. These salted and dried fish were the staple varieties and were supplied to the market in great quantities, as they were the principal food of the poorer classes and were sold very cheap.
The hours for the fish market in Athens must have been a time of very great interest, not only to the Athenian householder but to the foreigner sojourning within the city. To preserve order and also to give all customers an equal chance to procure the rare specimens offered for sale, several stringent laws were enacted to govern the market. Among other regulations was one requiring the opening of the market to be announced by the ringing of a bell. Apparently there was no fixed moment of time when this bell should be rung, but the time varied little from day to day. If we can believe our ancient authorities, the ringing of the bell was the occasion for a rush, pellmell, to the market, each seeking to obtain the first choice. Strabo tells us an interesting story anent this custom. On one occasion a musician was performing before a number of invited guests, and when, in the midst of a composition, the bell rang, in a moment the guests were up and away to the market, all except one man, who was deaf. When the lyrist had finished he was very careful to thank his lone auditor for his courtesy in remaining to hear him through, instead of running away when the bell rang, as the rest did. “Oh, has the bell rung?” asked the deaf man. And when informed that it had, he, too, hastened to the market.
The Greek interest in fishes seems never to have gone beyond their utility as an article of food. The building of aquaria and fish-ponds never came to be the sport of the Greeks, although they became extravagant luxuries among the Romans. Likewise fishing never became the sport of a Greek gentleman, unless, perchance, at a rather late period. Plato excludes fishing from the sports of a free-born gentleman. The only sport he would have him engage in was the chase, which, athletic games aside, was about the only outdoor sport a Greek gentleman seems to have indulged in. For instance, there is no mention in Greek literature of horseback riding as a pastime, yet horsemanship was an accomplishment in which every Greek gentleman received special training. Likewise, though fishing was not a recognized sport, yet the science of angling was well understood among them by the third century B. C., and probably much earlier. This we learn from a beautiful poem by the Alexandrian poet Theocritus, entitled “The Fishermen.” I will quote a portion of the poem translated into prose, partly because it gives us a picture of some ancient professional fishermen in the camp, partly because it mentions all the ancient instruments of the business.
“Two fishers, on a time, two old men, together lay and slept; they had strown the dry sea-moss for a bed in their wattled cabin, and there they lay against the leafy wall. Beside them were strewn the instruments of their toilsome hands, the fishing-creels, the rods of reed, the hooks, the sails bedraggled with sea-spoil, the lines, the weels, the lobster pots woven of rushes, the seines, two oars, and an old coble upon props. Beneath their heads was a scanty matting, their clothes, their sailor’s caps. Here was all their toil, here all their wealth. The threshold no door did guard nor a watch-dog; all these things, all, to them seemed superfluity, for Poverty was their sentinel. They had no neighbor by them, but ever against their narrow cabin gently floated up the sea.”
Long before daylight one of them awoke and aroused his companion to tell him the dream he had had. I shall quote the dream, as it graphically describes an ancient angler busy at his task: “As I was sleeping late, amid the labors of the salt sea (and truly not too full-fed, for we supped early, if thou dost remember, and did not overtax our bellies), I saw myself busy on a rock, and there I sat and watched the fishes, and kept spinning the bait with the rods. And one of the fish nibbled, a fat one, for in sleep dogs dream of bread, and of fish dream I. Well, he was tightly hooked, and the blood was running, and the rod I grasped was bent with his struggle. So, with both hands, I strained and had a sore tussle for the monster. How was I ever to land so big a fish with hooks all too slim! Then, just to remind him he was hooked, I gently pricked him, pricked, and slackened, and, as he did not run, I took in line. My toil was ended with the sight of my prize; I drew up a golden, look you, a fish all plated thick with gold. Gently I unhooked him * * * then I dragged him on shore with the ropes.”
I leave to the reader the pleasant task of comparing the ancient tackle with the modern. It must be said, however, that the description is rather ideal for the Mediterranean fisherman displays no science in landing his game, but simply throws it high and dry or breaks his tackle. This fact is well attested for the ancients, by several vase and wall paintings portraying fishermen actually at work. These paintings show us that the ancient outfit included a basket, frequently with a long handle, and a vase painting in Vienna undoubtedly suggests its use. The man has caught a fish which he is lifting straight up out of the water, at the same time he is reaching down with his basket, evidently to scoop up the fish just before it leaves the water, similar to the practice in trout-fishing to-day.
Before passing over the Ionian Sea to observe what the Romans did in this field of activity, the quasi-scientific study of fishes among the Greeks, particularly that of Aristotle, should claim our attention. Compared with the work of the moderns Aristotle’s work was crude indeed. Estimated as the first attempts at building up a science his work deserves our admiration and, in view of the fact that his writings were standard for nearly two thousand years, it demands our respect.
Aristotle did his work in natural history under the patronage of King Philip of Macedon, who drew upon the resources of the empire to provide him with rare or little known specimens from far and wide. How some of his conclusions were based on insufficient data and are consequently very inaccurate, or even grotesque, his discussion of the eel will illustrate. It must not be taken as a fair sample of his work in general. In fact, it is very unusual. “Among all the animals,” he says, “which have blood, the eel is the only one which is not born of copulation or hatched from eggs. The correctness of this statement is evident from the fact that eels make their appearance in marshy bodies of water, and that, too, after all the water has been drawn off and the mud removed, as soon as the rain-water begins to fill these lakes. They are not produced in dry weather, not even in lakes that never become dry, for they live on the rain-water. It is, therefore, plain that their origin is not due to procreation or to eggs. In spite of this some people think that they are viviparous, because worms have been found in the intestines of some eels, which they believe are the young of the eel. This opinion, however, is erroneous, for they are produced from the so-called ‘bowels of the earth’ (i. e., the earth-worms), the spontaneous product of mud and moisture.”
Turning now to the Romans, we find a somewhat different state of affairs, but different only on the aesthetic side; from a scientific or industrial point of view the Roman, though heir to all the Greek civilization and learning, in this, as in many other lines, made but slight advances.
Fish culture never became a serious occupation among the Romans. It was a pastime, one of the many directions which their senseless luxury took rather than a carefully directed effort to stock ponds and rear fish for food, or as a means of nature study. The immense ponds were stocked with rare fish in preference to useful varieties. Next to the rare species those that could be tamed were in favor. A qualification of the above statements should be made probably, in favor of the Romans who lived during the early Republican period of whom Columella, a Roman writer, has the following to say in his book entitled De Re Rustica: “The descendants of Romulus, although they were country folk, took great pains in having upon their farms a sort of abundance of everything which the inhabitants of the city are wont to enjoy. To this end they did not rest contented with stocking with fish the ponds that had been made for this purpose, but in their foresight went to the extent of supplying the ponds formed by nature with the spawn of fish. By this means the lakes Velinus and Sabitinus, and likewise Vulsmensis and Ciminus have furnished in great abundance not only catfish and goldfish, but also all the other varieties of fish which flourish in fresh water.” Such were the practices of the Roman country folk in early times, but, strange as it may seem in view of the extravagance of which the fish pond became the object in later times, no measures were taken to secure the reproduction and free development of staple food fishes.