Belon mentions it as one of the extraordinary feats performed by the divine king Francis I., that he formed two artificial heronries at Fontainebleau,—“the very elements themselves,” he adds, “obeying the commands of this divine king (whom God absolve!!!), for to force nature is a work partaking of divinity.” In order to enhance the merits of these French heronries, he undertakes to assert, that they were unknown to the ancients, because they are not mentioned in any of their writings; and for the same reason he concludes that there are none in Britain. Before Belon’s time, on the contrary, and before the “Divine” constructor of heronries in France was born, there were express laws enacted in England for the protection of herons, it being a fine of ten shillings to take the young out of the nest, and six shillings and eight-pence for a person, without his own grounds, killing a heron, except by hawking, or by the long-bow; while in subsequent enactments, the latter penalty was increased to twenty shillings, or three months’ imprisonment. At present, however, in consequence of the discontinuance of hawking, little attention is paid to the protection of heronries, though, I believe, none of the old statutes respecting them have been repealed. Not to know a hawk from a heron-shaw (the former name for a heron) was an old adage, which arose when the diversion of heron-hawking was in high fashion: it has since been corrupted into the absurd vulgar proverb, “not to know a hawk from a hand-saw.”
In the breeding season they congregate, and make their nests very near each other. Mr. Pennant mentions having seen eighty nests on one tree. We once saw a heronry on a small island in a lake in the north of Scotland, whereon there was only one scrubby oak tree, which not being sufficient to contain all the nests many were placed on the ground.—Sebright—Montagu.
Herring, s. A small sea-fish.
Of all migrating fish, the herring and the pilchard take the most adventurous voyages.
This mighty army begins to put itself in motion from the Icy Sea early in the spring: this body is distinguished by that name, for the word herring is derived from the German heer, an army, to express their number, which is so vast, that were all the men in the world loaded with herrings, they could not carry the thousandth part away. No sooner, however, is their asylum quitted, but millions of enemies collect to thin their squadrons. The fin fish and cacholot swallow barrels at a yawn; the porpoise, the grampus, the shark, and the whole numerous tribe of dog-fish, desist from making war upon each other, and make the herring their easy prey. The unnumbered flocks of sea fowl, that chiefly inhabit near the pole, watch the outset of their migration and spread extensive ruin. In this exigence the defenceless emigrants find no other safety but by crowding closer together, and leaving to the outermost the danger of being first devoured. Thus, like frighted sheep (which ever run together in a body), each finding some protection in being but one of many that are equally liable to invasion, they separate into shoals: those to the west visit the American shores, while those holding to the east pour down towards Europe, endeavouring to evade their merciless pursuers by approaching the first shore that presents itself, which is that of Iceland, in the beginning of March. Upon their arrival on that coast, this phalanx, notwithstanding its diminutions, is still of amazing extent, depth, and closeness, covering an extent of shore as large as the island itself; the whole water seems alive, and by their foes the herrings are cooped up so closely, that any hollow vessel put into it takes them out of the water without further trouble. The power of increasing in these animals exceeds our idea, as it would in a very short time outstrip all calculation. A single herring, it is affirmed, if suffered to multiply unmolested and undiminished for twenty years, would show a progeny greater in bulk than ten such globes as that we live upon; but happily the balance of nature is exactly preserved, and their consumption is equal to their fecundity. Upon this account, we must consider the fish and fowl that so incessantly attack them, not as plunderers, but as the benefactors of mankind: without their aid the sea would soon be overcharged with the burden of its own productions, and that element, which at present distributes health and plenty to the shore, would but load it with putrefaction.
These collective masses that come upon our coasts, begin to appear off the Shetland Isles in April and May; these are only the fore-runners of the grand shoal which comes in June, and their arrival is marked by the numbers of birds, such as gannets and others, which follow them as their prey. But when the main body approaches, its breadth and depth alters the very appearance of the ocean. They divide into distinct columns of five or six miles long, and three or four broad, while the water before them ripples as if forced out of its bed; sometimes they sink for ten or fifteen minutes, then rise again to the surface, on which in bright weather they reflect a variety of splendid colours, like a field bespangled with the most precious gems, in which, or rather in a much more valuable light, should this stupendous gift of Providence be considered by the inhabitants of the British Isles. The fishermen are ready prepared for their reception, and by nets made for the occasion they sometimes take above two thousand barrels at a single draught.
After this check from the Shetland Isles, which divide the army into two parts, one wing takes to the eastern shores of Great Britain, and fills every bay and creek with its numbers; the other pushes on towards Yarmouth, the great and ancient mart of herrings; they then pass through the British Channel, and after that in a manner disappear. Those which take to the west, after offering themselves to the Hebrides, where the great stationary fishery is, proceed towards the north of Ireland, where being interrupted they make a second division; that to the western side is scarcely perceived, being soon lost in the immensity of the Atlantic, whilst the other, which passes into the Irish Sea, rejoices and feeds the inhabitants of most of the coasts that border upon it.
The herring is always found in shoals, and on some occasions are crowded so close together, as to fill the sea, at least so far as our implements can reach, from top to bottom. Ships are said to have been retarded in their course in passing through these shoals, and instances are recorded where these little fishes have been left by the ebbing of the tide in heaps three feet deep upon the shores for many miles in extent. It is universally credited among those conversant in the herring fishery, that no other fish will go into the middle of a shoal. The whale, to whom they are a favourite repast, and who swallows a thousand at once, never ventures into the shoal, but hovers about the skirts of it, and regularly follows their course. The dog-fish, which in vast troops assiduously attend the herrings wherever they go, carefully keep aloof from the great mass of them; so it is with other fishes, who delight in the herring as a prey, but as a body seem to dread their multitudes.