Part 3
Part 3
               As peasants once told the tale along Baltic shores and in Black Sea
               watersheds, God created the fishes intending to provide them the pro-
               tection of many legs, defensive weapons, or a habitat high in the trees like
               birds. The foolish fishes refused, trusting, said some, in their slippery
               speed, and, said others, in the watery depths.1 God conceded but at a
               price: If the men catch me alive, so also shall they scrape my scales off
               alive, cut me up alive, and cook me.2 Popular wisdom running back
               plausibly, if unprovably, into the Middle Ages grasped an essential old
               relationship between humans and fish, capture of local populations for
               prompt consumption as food.
                  This chapter first establishes that the fishes early medieval Europeans
               ate came from their own neighbouring waters. The same would remain
               true for at least some of their descendants. The peasant majority them-
               selves fished to supplement cereal diets with whatever aquatic foods they
               had the time, opportunity, and ability to catch. They valued their access
               to common resources. Sometimes ordinary peasants and, more import-
               antly, a few select individuals almost everywhere also laboured to set fish
               before their lords, wealthy men and women of rank and power in the
               area. Regardless whether the actual fish-catchers or their social superiors
               topped the local food web, from the beginning medieval subsistence
               fisheries relied on small-scale, often passive, capture techniques well
               suited to limited and seasonally accessible local resources. Technical
               expertise derived from the long experience of ordinary people in
               their local environment. Simple means of preservation extended the
               use people made of recurring surpluses. Social and technical features of
               1
                   Birds and fish were created on the same day. Learned medieval authors observed that fish
                   were quick and slippery like the water where they lived (Glass, “In principio”; Zahlten,
                   Creatio Mundi, 187–191). Peasants concurred.
               2
                   Dähnhardt ed., Natursagen, 3:178–179, provides four variants from Romania and what
                   was then “West Prussia.” Another tale from the Upper Palatinate said fish were butchered
                   alive because they had played merrily in the water while Christ hung on the cross (ibid.,
                   2:226).
89
                    3
                        In a “technical index” Perrin, Seigneurie rurale, attempted precise and abstract legal
                        definitions, though these lacked clear consistency even in his texts from ninth- to
                        twelfth-century Lorraine and plainly failed to encompass the usages in, for instance, the
                        English Domesday survey of 1086 (Darby, Domesday England, 279–286). Squatriti, Water
                        and Society, 104–105, and Lampen, Fischerei und Fischhandel, 29–32, encountered
                        comparable ambiguities. In common medieval use such words derived from pisc- (and
                        vernacular equivalents) normally marked an activity and not the type of water in which it
                        was practiced. On the other hand the Latin term piscina, nominally ‘fishpond’, could, as
                        thirteenth-century scholar Bartholomeus Anglicus acutely remarked, denote at times
                        “gathering of waters without fish, … contrary to meaning, as Isidore says” (Trevisa tr.,
                        On the Properties of Things, ed. Seymour, 1:661–662). Legal and technical particulars are
                        explored below and in future chapters; the point here is the widespread presence of what
                        were recognized as fisheries resources.
               4
                   Enghoff, “Fishing in the Baltic,” and “Fishing in the southern North Sea.” Lõugas,
                   “Fishing and fish trade,” emphasizes entirely native fresh and brackish-water species
                   throughout Viking and early medieval times at even coastal sites from Sweden to Estonia.
               5
                   Galik et al., “Austrian and Hungarian Danube.” The gross pattern is as true of the mainly
                   sieved Austrian sites as of the unsieved ones from Hungary, but closer examination notes
                   the migratory beluga sturgeon upstream into Austrian waters, while the resident sterlet
                   was being consumed only below the Danube’s inland delta. Austrian sites, moreover,
                    medieval coastal communities along both sides of the southern North Sea
                    and English Channel found them full of locally caught inshore varieties,
                    notably small gadids, flatfishes, eel, and herring.6
                       Findings from particular sites varied with ecological circumstances,
                    as early medieval people used their own regionally distinctive aquatic
                    communities. Select examples show this irrespective of date, watersheds,
                    and consumers’ status (more cases are in Supplement 3.1).
                       Near the centre of Merovingian Frankland, the founding generation of
                    eighth-century aristocratic nuns at Saint Irminen convent in Trier left in
                    their garbage almost a thousand identifiable fish bones from eight taxa,
                    just over a half of them cyprinids, one in five catfish, and one in twenty
                    each pike or salmonids. Small numbers of perch, eel, and shad confirm
                    the whole assemblage, freshwater and diadromous alike, came from the
                    Moselle. Marine species were not to be found.7
                       At ninth-century San Vincenzo al Volturno, equidistant between Rome,
                    Naples, the Adriatic and the Tyrrhenian seas, Benedictine monks did
                    consume mullets, sea bass, and some sea bream from Adriatic lagoons,
                    yet 78 percent of the fish bone in their trash was tench and other cyprinids
                    from the limited fresh waters of central Italy.8 The whole reflected a
                    general post-Roman shift of Italian fish consumption from marine to
                    inland and inshore varieties.9
                       Eighth- to tenth-century high-status Anglo-Saxons resident at
                    Flixborough in the floodplain of the river Trent about eight kilometers
                    inland from the Humber estuary may have shifted between secular and
                    monastic foodways, but little varied the fishes they ate. The twenty-eight
                    taxa identified from this wet-sieved site were dominated by only seven,
                    all freshwater or diadromous: eel, smelt, flounder/plaice, pike, small
                        contain remains of cold- and/or faster-water fishes such as salmonids, perch, and
                        rheophilic cyprinids which are absent from the waters of the Pannonian plain. The
                        same exclusively local consumption pattern prevailed further down the Danube at the
                        southern frontier of the medieval Hungarian kingdom, an area not included in the
                        composite study (Bartosiewicz, “Pontes”).
                    6
                        Loveluck, Northwest Europe, 186, 193, 198–200, 202, 207, 211, 250–252, and works there
                        cited. Holmes, Animals in Saxon and Scandinavian England, 47–52, saw only local
                        freshwater and inshore species at all types of early and middle Saxon sites.
                    7
                        Heinrich, “Fischresten aus St. Irminen.”
                    8
                        Marazzi and Carannante, “Dal mare ai monti.”
                    9
                        Montanari, Culture of Food, 28–29; Donati, “Dal mare al fiume,” 26–27; and Squatriti,
                        Water and Society, 102–105, concur that an early medieval (sixth–tenth-century)
                        preference for freshwater fishes differed from Roman times, with the latter offering
                        several cultural as well as security reasons for the shift. Relying more on recent
                        archaeozoological evidence Salvadori, “La pesca nel Medioevo,” 300–303, and Varano
                        et al., “The edge of the Empire,” agree.
               10
                    Dobney et al., Flixborough, 36–58 and 199–212. Sykes, Norman Conquest, 56–58, finds
                    early–mid Anglo-Saxons generally to have eaten a lot of eel, salmon, pike, and small flat
                    fishes, with major consumption of herring postdating the mid-ninthth century.
               11
                    Barrett et al, “‘Dark Age economics’ revisited.” Sykes, Norman Conquest, 56–58, points
                    out that rise in English consumption of marine fish initially accompanied an increase in
                    freshwater varieties as well, trends which neither began nor changed with arrival of
                    the Normans.
               12
                    Locker, “Middle Saxon” and “Peabody Site,” 150: “These results confirm a general
                    picture for the Middle Saxon period, both at this site and others in the Lundenwic
                    settlement, that the fish consumed were largely the result of local fishing in the
                    Thames, with some exploitation of inshore marine waters, but no deep-sea fishing of
                    any sort.” Orton et al., “Fish for the city”; and Orton et al., “Fish for London,” 207,
                    further refine the mass of data from London.
               13
                    Lepiksaar and Heinrich, Fischresten aus Haithabu, 119–120. For similar proportions in
                    later finds from the harbour, see Schmölcke and Heinrich, “Tierknochen aus dem
                    Hafen,” 220–233.
                    followed by tench, pike, and cyprinids from local waters.14 While estuar-
                    ine and river sites in this region favoured sturgeon and pike-perch, people
                    on lakes from interior Wielkopolska west to the Grosse Ploner See in east
                    Holstein ate more perch, pike, and catfish, species of lentic habitats.15
                       Returning to the post-Carolingian west, the oldest fish remains
                    recovered from the Scheldt basin in Flanders are from emerging urban
                    ninth/tenth-century Ghent (review Fig. 2.2). More than 90 percent are
                    species taken in fresh water and the few marine species primarily coastal
                    flatfishes. During the ensuing two centuries the share of flatfishes more
                    than doubled and that of herring – also then taken along Flemish beaches –
                    rose to 20, then 30 percent. Up to 1200, other marine varieties totalled less
                    than 10 percent. Meanwhile fish from fresh water dwindled proportion-
                    ately, though still contributing more than four remains in ten.16
                       About the year 1000 a community of what modern researchers have
                    called ‘peasant knights’ settled on a shoreline shelf beside Lake Paladru
                    in the Isère valley some way north of Grenoble. Two generations later
                    rising waters inundated the site, driving the settlers to higher ground and
                    leaving their farmsteads to be studied by modern submarine archaeolo-
                    gists. Besides fishing gear (see Figure 3.1) they recovered 421 identifiable
                    fish bones and more than 8,000 scales. Ninety-five percent of the bones
                    were perch and just under 4 percent still-water cyprinids, with bare traces
                    of pike and a salmonid. Ninety percent of the scales, however, were
                    cyprinid, suggesting different taphonomies and thus original handling
                    of the two principal taxa. All species taken and consumed by the settlers
                    still inhabit the lake.17
                       This brief tour might end with the written record of late eleventh-
                    century Cluniac monks in Burgundy and the Black Forest. Ulrich of
                    Cluny’s initial 1079 dictionary of their sign language named six taxa, five
                    of them native to the Rhône and upper Loire (some fifty kilometers
                    away); the only exotic was cuttlefish. A few years later William of
                    Hirsau, who carried Cluny’s reforms to his community east of the
                    Rhine, reworked Ulrich’s list and raised the number of fishes to fifteen:
                    14
                         Makowiecki, Hodowla oraz użytkowanie, 40–41. Similar finds at contemporary through
                         mid-twelfth-century Szczecin are summarized in Rulewicz, Rybołówstwo Gdańska,
                         72–88.
                    15
                         Requate, “Jagdtier in den Nahrungssytem”; Kaj, “Szczątki rybne,” 74–75; Iwaszkiewicz,
                         “Szczątki ryb,” 306. General discussion in Makowiecki, “Early medieval aquatic
                         environments in Poland.”
                    16
                         Neer and Ervynck, “Rise of sea fish,” 159–161.
                    17
                         Colardelle and Verdel, eds., Les habitants du Lac, 116–120, and their more popular
                         Chevaliers-Paysans, 38–40. Fish remains were analyzed by Jean Desse and Natalie Desse-
                         Berset. Note the trophic pyramid from cyprinids to carnivorous perch capped by
                         predatory trout and pike.
               18
                    Ulrich, “Consuetudines Cluniacensis,” lib. 2, c. 4, in Jarecki, Signa loquendi, 122–124
                    (translated in Bruce, Silence and Sign, 177–178); William’s Constitutiones Hirsaugienses,
                    lib. 1, c. 8, in Jarecki, Signa loquendi, 165–168.
                    labour at their command to satisfying them. In that case the catching and
                    the eating went to the same economic account. Such self-sufficiency
                    nevertheless still involves implicit choices allocating scarce productive
                    factors to one priority or another. People of unequal wealth (access to
                    productive factors) also have different patterns of effective demand, for
                    those who more easily obtain basic food and shelter can turn surplus
                    energies at their command to other kinds of wants. Rich or poor, fully
                    self-sufficient consumers must be generalist producers to obtain the
                    variety of goods and services they need.
                       Early medieval society may usefully be thought to comprise two socio-
                    economic orders, the powerful and the poor. Direct subsistence is an
                    affair of the latter, people whose economic capabilities depended on the
                    working capacity of simple family households. Most of them we can call
                    peasants, for they lived from their own mixed farming and in some kind
                    of subordination to people of power who, with or without some cover of
                    legality, regularly seized a share of the peasants’ productive capacity.
                    Direct subsistence fishing was one part of a survival strategy for people
                    trying to meet basic needs from the relatively meager human and material
                    resources they controlled. Later in the Middle Ages rural- or town-
                    dwellers with other occupations but access to aquatic resources also
                    occasionally covered their own demand for fish. Like most activities of
                    ordinary folk in early medieval society, direct subsistence fishing rarely
                    attracted the eyes or pens of literate groups. As a result, while early
                    sources establish the prevalence of subsistence fishing, only later texts
                    convey more of its technical particulars and organizational context.
                    19
                         Adomnan, Life of Columba, ed. Anderson, 364–366, 413–415, and 534; Krusch, ed.,
                         “Vita Galli,” 289–294 and 365–367 (Joynt tr., 72–81 and 103–105).
               who took him in.20 On the other side of the Alps early tenth-century
               tenants on at least two estates of St. Giulia, Brescia, paid dues from both
               farming and fishing; the operator of a layman’s property near Ferrara
               could keep one-fifth of his take in fish and game.21 Perhaps those hold-
               ings resembled what excavators found at the Thames-side village of
               Wraysbury, Berkshire, where most farmsteads held fish bones, notably
               of eel but also resident freshwater species plainly taken from the river. Far
               to the east at Drohiczyn on the Bug, peasant houses, dated like those at
               Wraysbury to the ninth–twelfth centuries, also held scattered remains of
               locally procured fish and, one, an iron fish hook.22 By that time fishing
               was also recognizably a seasonal secondary occupation of farmers
               and pastoralists in Bohemia, Norway, Iceland, and coastal lagoons of
               Languedoc and Tuscany.23
                  More forthcoming later records often treat peasant fishing for house-
               hold use as a normal activity. This was certainly the case when the
               administratively precocious Teutonic Order of crusading knights estab-
               lished control in once-pagan Prussia. The charter they issued for
               Chełmno in 1233 became the prototype for the rights of their subjects:
               each household could catch its own fish by any means except the great
               seine net called niewod. After generations had followed those provisions,
               Grand Master Conrad von Jungingen specified in 1406 that the right
               meant fishing with “small gear” such as hand-held nets, baited hooks,
               and basket traps, and even with weirs and fish-fences which did not fully
               block streams, “but not otherwise than for their table.”24 Catching the
               very essence of direct subsistence, the phrase “for their table” in a
               1342 customal had also described how established peasant tenants could
               20
                    “… acsi piscator peritus de amne ad litus extraens pisces, non solum ad eorum supplendam,
                    necessitudinem caperet, verum ad nausicam cotidie comedentibus usque deferret” (Krusch, ed.
                    “Vita Sigiramni,” cap. 15 and 19–22). Benarrous, Grande Brenne, 318–329 and
                    338–342, deploys written, charcoal, and palynological evidence to show early medieval
                    Brenne was covered by woods and meadows drained by many streams but lacked its later
                    famous wetlands and ponds. Monks at eighth-century Stavelot fished the Meuse for food
                    (Miracula S. Remacli, 3:23–24 in Acta sanctorum, Sept., I, p. 701).
               21
                    Castagnetti ed., Inventari altomedievali, 60–61 and 64–65.
               22
                    Coy, “Fish bones”; Iwaszkiewicz, “Szczątki ryb w Drohiczynie.”
               23
                    Graus, Dĕjiny venkovského lidu, vol. 1:97–98; Ebel, “Fischerei und Fischereimethoden,”
                    and works there cited; Perdikaris and McGovern, “Codfish and kings,” 199–203;
                    Bourin-Derrau et al., “Littoral languedocien,” 382–387; Garzella, “In silva Tumuli e in
                    Stagno,” 145–147.
               24
                    “kleyne gheczow, … yo nicht anders wen cz irme tissche,” Benecke, “Beiträge zur
                    Geschichte,” 307, with selected earlier grants on 301–305 and later at 308. Willam,
                    “Fischerei des Deutschen Ordens,” 78–85 and 95, and Kisch, Fischereirecht, 160–168.
                    25
                         Dyer, Standards of Living, 157. Thirteenth-century tenants on Eden and Derwent
                         estuaries had common rights to fish (Winchester, Landscape and Society, 111).
                    26
                         Querrien, “Pêche et consommation … en Berry,” 432–433.
                    27
                         Vendittelli, “Diritti ed impianti di pesca,” 427–428; Perrin, Seigneurie rurale, 728–729.
                    28
                         LeRoy Ladurie, Peasants of Languedoc, 18; Ambros, “Zvieracie zvyšky”; Beck, Eaux en
                         Bourgogne, 232–233.
                    29
                         Sclafert, Le Haut-Dauphiné, 145–146.
                    30
                         Mákkai, “Economic landscapes,” 28–31; Zatykó, “Fishing in medieval Hungary,”
                         402–404; Rácz, Steppe to Europe, 56–58 and 185.
                    31
                         da Cruz Coelho, “A pesca fluvial,” 81–84 and 89–95.
               32
                    Birrell, “Common rights”; Cahn, Recht der Binnenfischerei, 61–70; Montanari,
                    L’alimentazione contadini, 280–282.
               33
                    “ut piscatio in dicto lacu esset comunis omnibus,” Butturini, “La pesca sur lago di Garda,”
                    147–149; Nada Patrone, Il cibo, 320–324.
               34
                    Scialoja, Statuta et ordinamento, 863.
               35
                    Amargier, “Pêche en Petite Camargue,” 334–336 and 338.
               36
                    “ad comune beneficium et copiam piscium praedictorum multiplicem conditum fuisse,”
                    Butturini, “La pesca sur lago di Garda,” 147–149. On Hungarian peasant practices
                    see: p. 98 above.
               37
                    O’Sullivan, “Place, memory and identity,” 463. See also ibid., 451 and 461, with
                    emphasis on transmission of learning gained through work in the natural world. For
                    labour on such weirs see pp. 104–105 below.
               38
                    Nowakowski, “Rybackie narzędzia kolne”; Hoffmann, Fishers’ Craft, and “Haslinger
                    Breviary fishing tract.”
                    39
                         Bertrand, “Pour une histoire écologique,” 66–68. But why have we recovered no
                         instructional texts from France?
                    40
                         Dähnhardt, ed., Natursagen, 2:226–227 and 3:491.
                    41
                         Ibid., 4:192–196. The herring’s royal rank was in places contested by the ribbonfish or
                         giant oarfish (Regaleus glene), a 3–8 m monster with a red crest on its head that
                         occasionally appears among the plankton-eating schools (Heinrich, “Information about
                         fish,” 18–19, and Jagow, “Hering im Volksglaube,” 220–221).
                    42
                         Hoffmann, Fishers’ Craft, 32–33 and 92–97, treats and reproduces the versions printed in
                         1493 but connects them to older and more recent analogs handled in Schultze, “Ein
                         mittelaterlicher Fischkenner,” and “Ein Strassburger Handschrift”; Wickersheimer,
                         “Zur spätmittelalterlichen Fischdiätetik,” 412–414; and Gessner, Historia animalium,
                         vol. 4, pp. 26, 594, 705–706, and 1206.
                    43
                         BL MS Additional 25238, fol. 56r–v.
               aquatic environments. For most Europeans in the early Middle Ages and
               later still especially for the rural poor, those were the only fish they ate.
               Direct subsistence fishing is the historical background and sociocultural
               context for all other fisheries in medieval Europe. Cryptic early medieval
               signs of its presence are fleshed out from later records of practice.
               44
                    Not, of course, a problem peculiar to fisheries commons (see Hoffmann, Environmental
                    History, 247–263).
               45
                    Stolz, Geschichtskunde der Gewässer, 366; Lindner, Deutsche Jagdtraktate, 146. Cahn,
                    Recht der Binnenfischerei, 61–70, clarifies the important distinction between access (use)
                    and legal ownership of fishing rights.
               46
                    Detailed discussion and documentation in Squatriti, Water and Society, 111–113.
                    47
                         Van Houts, ed.,“Gesta Normannorum ducum,” vol. II, pp. 8–9 (William lib. 5, cap. 2).
                         Dating and authorship are in vol. I, pp. 3–7 and 82–94. Further discussed in Arnoux,
                         “Classe agricole,” 45–58, and Gowen, “996 and all that.”
                    48
                         Franz, ed., Quellen, 66. The authoritative study is Heimpel, “Fischerei und
                         Bauernkrieg.”
                    49
                         “ut cuique rustico liceret venari atque piscari, ubi et quando voluerit, sine impedimento vel
                         prohibitione cuiuscunque omni tempore et loco” (Franz, ed., Quellen, 76). Complaints by
                         Styrian rebels in 1515 remained pragmatic: landowners’ tighter control over fisheries had
                         harmed the well-being of tenants and commoners (Benecke, Maximilian, 76).
                    50
                         Franz, ed., Quellen, 177; Heimpel, “Fischerei und Bauernkrieg,” 354. Like attitudes in
                         Upper Austria are in Zauner, “Die Beschwerden,”114–115.
                    51
                         Heimpel, “Fischerei und Bauernkrieg,” 367–368.
                    52
                         Beyer, Cistercienser-Stift Alt-Zelle, 25, 418–420, and 569.
               of Bartholomew Bourgcher, knight, and there took fish and forty quarters
               of oysters; before the court they asserted this was in tidal waters and thus
               “from times beyond memory … all lieges of the lord king had common
               fishery there.”53 In 1490 rebellious subjects of the abbey of St. Gallen –
               more than a half-millennium removed from that original hermit’s hut –
               ripped out the weirs and traps with which their lords obtained the fish
               prohibited to them.54
                  The long history of overt struggle against loss of access itself confirms
               that medieval peasants continued to value fishing as a way to supplement
               their usual foodstuffs. The same conclusion may be drawn from the
               many widely but still rarely documented incidents of illegal individual
               use of local fisheries resources, which is to say poaching of fish.
               A lawyer’s model dated from the late thirteenth or early fourteenth
               century of pleas for an English manorial court envisioned a poor peasant
               swearing
               how I went the other evening along the bank of this pond and looked at the fish
               which were playing in the water, so beautiful and so bright, and for the great
               desire I had for a tench I laid me down on the bank and just with my hands quite
               simply, and without any other device, I caught that tench and carried it off; and
               now I will tell thee the cause of my covetousness and my desire. My dear wife had
               lain abed a right full month, as my neighbours who are here know, and she could
               never eat or drink anything to her liking, and for the great desire she had to eat a
               tench I went to the bank of the pond to take just one tench; and that never other
               fish from the pond did I take.55
               Premeditation or sudden inspiration? An experienced steward might
               have some doubts, for tench are dark-coloured bottom dwellers with
               notably slimy skin, hard to spot or to grab. Thirteenth-century abbots
               with monopoly fishing rights on the then Gulf of Arras, in an oxbow of
               the Marne near Meaux, and to L. Bientina beside Lucca all struggled
               with local poachers.56 Big visible fish like pike or spawning salmonids
               could be speared or netted: a Prussian peasant caught spearing pike in
               the Teutonic Knights’ waters in 1453 sparked a political crisis when his
               53
                    London TNA Plea Rolls (KB 27/588 (Pasche 9H4) m 44 Essex (with thanks to Stuart
                    Jenks and Suzanne Jenks).
               54
                    Müller, ed., Rechtsquellen, 272–273.
               55
                    Maitland and Baildon, eds., Court Baron, 54–55. An earlier item from the same text (pp.
                    37–38) suggests this defendant already had a record for poaching fish. Ibid., 75, has
                    another model precedent from a tract written at Oxford in the 1270s/80s, and actual
                    cases from a Cambridgeshire court of the bishop of Ely dating from 1316 to 1318 (note
                    peak famine time!) are on pp. 122–124. Bennett, Life on the English Manor, 270, cites
                    more cases elsewhere.
               56
                    Coopland, Abbey of St. Bertin, 59; Endrès, “Un vivier naturel”; Onori, L’abbazia di San
                    Salvatore, appendix p. 14 (a pledge exacted from three illegal fishers).
                    57
                         Burleigh, Prussian Society, 98–99, skips some of the report in Berlin PKB, OBA 11871,
                         but the case has clear parallels elsewhere. See Supplement 3.2.3.
                    58
                         Jacoby, “Class and environmental history.” The mass of known medieval fishing
                         violations better conform to this model, including its form of public destructive
                         protest, than to the elite feuds which Manning, Hunters and Poachers, found in hunting
                         crimes of Tudor–Stuart England.
                    59
                         Schwab ed., Prümer Urbar, 182 and 250–255. Two other Rhine villages owed stakes but
                         not carrying service.
                    60
                         Salisbury, “Primitive British fishweirs,” 76–77.
               61
                    Castagnetti, ed, Inventari altomedievali, 102–108.
               62
                    Forquin, “Le temps de la croissance,” 393.
               63
                    Burleigh, Prussian Society, 22–24 and sources there cited.
               64
                    Dąbrowski, Rozwój wielkiej własności, 87; Vahrenhold, Kloster Marienfeld, 129.
               65
                    Colgrave, ed., Felix’s Life, 87–88; Vita Hugberti, c. 8 (MGH, SrM, 6, 487–488).
               66
                    “bonos habeat artifices, id est … piscatores, … retiores, qui retia facere bene sciant, tam ad
                    venandum quam ad piscandum sive ad aves capiendum.” (Cap. de villis, §45, Boretius, ed.,
                    Capitularia, #32).
               67
                    Cahn, Recht der Binnenfischerei, 92.
                    68
                         Mira, La pesca nel medioevo, 5.
                    69
                         Castagnetti ed., Inventari altomedievali, 57–65 and 138. Squatriti, Water and Society, 115,
                         points out that some of these catches were surplus to the lords’ needs and sold either by
                         them or by fishers who had then to pay dues in cash. Chapter 4 below discusses further
                         this ragged transition to commercialized arrangements.
               fishers attached to domainal units of Farfa abbey paid dues in kind. The
               bishop of Lucca received fish weekly from at least two nearby tenants and
               semi-annually from a more distant one.70 Monks and bishops thus left
               operation of the fishery to local experts.
                  Some lords and fishers in France had similar arrangements. In the
               early 950s Benedictine monks at Homblières in Vermandois received
               from a local magnate a property on the Somme at Frise some thirty-five
               kilometers away for the sake of the fish it could supply. At least one
               tenement there was later paying a hundred eel each Christmas.71 Troarn
               abbey in coastal Normandy then also had one fisher whose tenure
               required him to provide a set quantity of fish from his use of nets in the
               sea.72 Up to the 1020s a lay landowning family owned a hereditary serf
               who fished the Rhône not far from Lyon.73
                  Meanwhile other fishers worked directly as servants of their lords. As
               early as the sixth century, according to Gregory of Tours, Nicetius,
               bishop of Trier (c. 535–566), who needed a gift for his king, called upon
               his men to get fish. When told a flood had broken their trap he sent his
               reluctant servants anyway and they found a wondrously great catch.74
               Local fishers supplied ninth-century monks at San Vincenzo al Volturno
               with their steady diet of cyprinids, but what their chronicler called
               “fishers and sites for taking fish” (piscatori, et aras ad pisces prendendos)
               on Adriatic lagoons provided inshore marine varieties.75 Around 1060/
               70 servants of the priory of St.-Marcel-lés-Chalon, across the Saône from
               the count’s town, violently smashed the boats of fishers from Chalon
               whom they accused of fishing illegally.76 Abbey servants (famuli monas-
               terii) at Fleury were accustomed to fish in the main channel of the Loire
               and, unused to miracles, resisted St. Odo’s advice to try elsewhere.77
               70
                    Toubert, Structures du Latium, 475, 607, and 672, considered fishers the epitome of such
                    servile specialists; Sardi, Le Contrattazione agrarie, 96–101; Venditelli, “Diretti,”
                    477–478.
               71
                    “pro commoditate piscium eidem ecclesiae” in Evergates, ed., Cartulary of Homblières, 41–43,
                    with further references to that fishery at 43–45, 74–75, 95–104, 116–120, and 230–231.
               72
                    Hocquet, “La pêche,” 105.
               73
                    Bernard, Cartulaire de Savigny, 2:669–670. Déléage, La vie économique, 164–166, found
                    such arrangements the norm in tenth–eleventh-century Burgundy.
               74
                    Gregory of Tours, Liber vitae patrum, XVII, 4 (Lives and Miracles, ed. Nie, 250–251).
               75
                    Marazzi and Carannante, “Dal mare ai monti,” 111–113.
               76
                    Bouchard, ed., Cartulary of St.-Marcel, doc. 12, pp. 36–37. In all likelihood the abbey
                    fishers themselves operated the 36 m wooden weir found there by archaeologists and
                    14
                      C-dated to the early eleventh century with repairs into the thirteenth (Bonnamour,
                    “Pêche en Saône”).
               77
                    John of Salerno, Vita Odonis 3:11 (PL 133, cols. 82–83). The eleventh-century vita of
                    Abbot Maiolus of Cluny (c. 909–994) likewise credited the saint’s powers with capture of
                    a unexpected salmon on behalf of a disciple (Vita brevior sancti Maioli, cap. 23).
                    When St. Anselm needed a fish dinner, a Norman monk conveyed his
                    instructions to a fisherman who then netted the biggest trout he had seen
                    in twenty years’ experience on that river.78 Just as the risen Christ rightly
                    instructed Peter and other disciples to cast their nets on the other side of
                    the boat (John 21:3), spiritually gifted holy men had a reputation for
                    confounding fishers whose knowledge was merely practical.
                       Large resources in subalpine lakes early excited special attention. Two
                    noble brothers from the Sundgau reportedly had prior knowledge of the
                    Tegernsee fishery before founding an abbey there in the 740s.79
                    Monastic settlement on Mondsee dates to the same period. A century
                    later Mondsee abbey and its ecclesiastical superior, the archbishop of
                    Salzburg, heard testimony from an experienced local inhabitant,
                    Heribald, about the fisheries of the Wolfgangsee (then called Abersee)
                    in the Salzkammergut. He reported that abbey, archbishop, and local
                    castellan each ran fishing boats there, but only the first two could legally
                    take the lake trout during their fall run and the “albuli pisces” (probably
                    cyprinids) which ran in the spring.80 Such arrangements continued for
                    more than a half-millennium. Since the 1490s – and earlier records
                    simply do not survive – abbey and archbishop each paid and outfitted
                    full-time fishers in ten and five boats respectively.81
                       A 1023 inventory by Tegernsee cellarer Gotahalm reveals the tackle
                    such fishers could deploy. Alongside tools for other crafts, he counted
                    thirty-four basket traps, seventeen nets of various kinds, winding reels,
                    ropes, lines, and six fishing boats in use by abbey fishers.82 For the next
                    three centuries and more Tegernsee abbey, with exclusive rights to fish
                    on the entire lake and its feeder streams, itself equipped fishers who
                    worked under direct supervision but also claimed large numbers of
                    whitefish as dues from designated subject tenures. After thorough
                    78
                         Eadmer, Life of Anselm, 26–27. A later example of the generic topos had St. Richard of
                         Chichester (1197–1253, canonized 1262) direct failed fishers for the archbishop of
                         Canterbury to a fine catch from the river Ouse at Lewes, Sussex (Salzman, “Sussex
                         Miracles,” 71–72).
                    79
                         Passio Quirini §15, Krusch ed. (MGH, SrM, 3:12); compare Weißensteiner, Tegernsee,
                         13–14. Bowlus, Franks, Moravians, and Magyars, 78, remarks on the attraction of
                         mountain fisheries to eighth-century Franks and Bavarians.
                    80
                         Salzburger Urkundenbuch, 1:907–908 and 914–915; Sonnlechner, “New units of
                         production,” 32–33.
                    81
                         Linz OÖLA Stiftsarchiv Mondsee: Akten Bd. 406, Bd. 407 nr. 1, and Bd. 411, nr. 11;
                         Handschriften Bd. 282. But a Mondsee rental from 1547 to 1560 (OÖLA Stiftsarchiv
                         Mondsee: Handschriften Bd. 86) also still shows peasant tenures obliged to pay rents
                         in fish.
                    82
                         Munich BSB Clm 18181, a Latin text with German glosses, was dismembered for
                         publication in Steinmeyer and Sievers, eds., Die althochdeutschen Glossen, 3:657 and
                         4:562–563.
               83
                    Hoffmann, “Craft of fishing Alpine lakes,” and Hoffmann, “Fishers in late medieval
                    rural society,” treat fishing in fifteenth–sixteenth-century Tegernsee from technical and
                    socio-economic perspectives. Fleeting glimpses of earlier conditions occur in Munich
                    BHSA KL Teg 1; KL Teg 3, fols. 9r–12r; KL Teg 4, pp. 36–37 and 41–50; and KL
                    Teg 94.
               84
                    Faugeron, Nourrir la ville, 740–748. More on the heavily capitalized Venetian valli di
                    pesca is in Chapter 4 below.
               85
                    Rogers, ed., Rental Book of Cupar-Angus, items 20, 42, 299, 319 et passim in vol. I,
                    pp. 118–318, with detailed discussion in Hoffmann, “Salmo salar,” 360–361; Hoffmann
                    and Ross, “This belongs to us!” 462–463; and Hodgson, “To the abbottis profeit.”
               86
                    Górzyski, Zarys historii rybołówstwa, 14–24.
                    87
                         “Hec vero sunt nomina rusticorum quos eis dedimus: … in Dominiz: Radoch, Zvantos, Plefna,
                         Nudassa, quorum quilibet tribus diebus in ebdomada XIIcim pisces ad longitudinem ulne dare
                         debet et insuper tres urnas mellis annuatim; Novos et Radzlaws cum filiis cotitidie (sic) devent
                         piscari; … in Dyznik: Zvan qui cotidie debet piscari; …” (Zakrzewski and Piekosiński, eds.,
                         CdMP, Nr. 66). Duke Henry of Silesia’s gift to Trzebnica convent of named and
                         obligated fishers at Kotowice in 1202–1204 is recorded in Appelt and Irgang, eds.,
                         SUB, nos. 83 and 93.
                    88
                         Györffy, Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft, 36–39 and 76–92; Bartosiewicz, Animals in the Urban
                         Landscape, 65.
                    89
                         Capitulary de villis, arts. 21, 44, 45, 62, and 65 (Boretius ed., Capitularia, #32); Brühl
                         and Violante, eds., “Honorantie Civitatis Papiae,” 20–23 and 60–61; Squatriti, Water
                         and Society, 97.
                    90
                         da Cruz Coelho, “A pesca fluvial,” 81–84.
               91
                    Ulrich, “Consuetudines,” lib. 3, c. 18 (Migne PL, vol. 149, cols. 760–762); Bernard and
                    Bruel, Recueil des chartes, nr. 4143 and 4132 note (the count of Boulogne’s gift of 20,000
                    herrings a year); Zimmermann, Ordensleben, 60–61 and 260–262; Bruce, Silence and
                    Sign, 81–82. Evans, Monastic Life, 71–73, is unaware of the difference between artificial
                    fish culture (not visible at Cluny) and the capture, storage, and use of wild fish.
                    Organized exploitation of wild stocks also fed large monastic communities at twelfth-
                    century Reichenau (Rösener, Grundherrschaft im Wandel, 226–227) and thirteenth-
                    century Prüm (Schwab, ed., Prümer Urbar, 181, 194–195, 232–233, and 244).
               92
                    Lancaster, ed., Chartulary of Fountains, 2:831; Turner, ed., Manners and Household
                    Expenses, 16 and 39; Woolgar, Great Households, 121.
                    of subsistence fisheries during and after the early Middle Ages.93 That
                    record presents techniques of catching and processing fish which were
                    compatible with the needs of local consumers and the abilities of local
                    producers. Both had adapted to their environments and available fish
                    species. These methods formed the technological basis for medieval
                    relations with aquatic ecosystems and, of course, for subsequent
                    developments.94
                    93
                         Particular examples in what follows are from what look like subsistence, not
                         artisanal, fisheries.
                    94
                         The more extensive inventory of capture techniques found in Hoffmann, “Medieval
                         fishing,” 343–372, needs little significant revision.
                    95
                         Instructions for manual capture are given in Salzburg Universitätsbibliothek Codex
                         M III 3 [a collection of medical tracts and recipes dated 1439], fol. 291v, and limited
                         use of the technique was allowed in fifteenth-century village customals (Weistümer)
                         from Lower Austrian lordships of Anspang, Gutenstein, and Neusiedel Weidmannsfeld
                         (references to Winter, ed., Niederösterreiche Weistümer, vol. I, pp. 19, 356, and 364,
                         thanks to Jaritz and Winiwarter, eds., Historische Umweltdatenbank, nos. 77, 146, and
                         147.)
                    96
                         Zaunick, “Fischerei-Tollköder”; Gunda, “Fish poisoning.”
                    97
                         Ruodlieb, ed. Haug and Vollman, Fragment II, ll. 1–26 and Fragment X, ll. 1–58;
                         Zaunick, “Fischerei-Tollköder,” 634–663; Hoffmann, Fishers’ Craft, 44, 87, 171, and
                         notes. In the Ruodlieb passage, one of the few to describe rather than just ban use of a
                         piscicide, all of the fish are collected and consumed.
                98
                     Liber Augustalis, lib. 3, cap. 72 (tr. Powell, 144); Balletto, Genova nel duecento, 188 (a
                     1274 contract to fish with “erba que vocatur tassus”); Abad Garcia and Peribáñez Otero,
                     “Pesca fluvial,” 163–164. For illicit later use of piscicides and explosives in
                     Mediterranean coastal fisheries, see Faget, “Le poison et la poudre,” and Garrido
                     Escobar, “Anar al petardo.”
                99
                     Crescenzi, Ruralia commoda, 10:30 (ed. Richter, vol. 3, p. 209); Zdekauer, Statutum
                     Pistorii, 131. Compare Trexler, “Measures against water pollution,” and Sznura,
                     “Veleni e ‘nobilissimi pesci’,” 271–279. Florentines suspected clerics to be
                     common offenders.
               100
                     Quicklime sealed with primitive gunpowder into a slowly leaking jar heats in water to set
                     off an explosion and shock wave. Hoffmann, Fishers’ Craft, 64, 87, and 103–104.
               101
                     Ibid., 323 and 329–330. Further records of use appear in Cocula-Vaillieres, Un fleuve et
                     des hommes,133–134.
               102
                     Heinrich, “Fischerei und Fischereimethoden,” 132–133; Steane and Foreman,
                     “Medieval fishing tackle,” 140; Kraskovska, “K otázke lovu,” 151; Wundsch,
                     “Aalspeere.”
               103
                     Colardelle and Verdel, Les Habitants, 320; Nyström, Poèmes français, 57; Boscus, “Le
                     fief des Malhols,” 257–258. Crescenzi, Ruralia commoda, 10:30 (ed. Richter, vol. 3,
                     208–210) also describes use of the leister.
               104
                     Amacher, Zürcher Fischerei, 71; Scheiber, Zur Geschichte der Fischerei, 152. See also
                     pp. 95–95, 99, and 103 above.
                    Moselle, where “I fish with the hook, you with a basket, he with nets.”105
                    Legal, not literary, aims in 1406 moved the Prussian grand master to define
                    the small gear for household fishing “to be hand nets, scoop nets, gill nets,
                    dip nets, cast hook, basket traps, catch nets, and the like.”106 Across
                    medieval Europe hooks, traps, and nets in one or two fishers’ hands were
                    recognized as the norm for feeding a domestic group.
                       As today, fishing with hook and line came quickly to medieval minds
                    (see Figure 3.2). About 1180 the subsequently reputed philosopher of
                    love, Andrew the Chaplain (Andreas Capellanus), cribbed from Isidore
                    of Seville to derive amor from the word for hook, [h]amus, and explained
                    that “just as a skilful fisherman tries to attract fishes by his bait and to
                    capture them on his crooked hook,” the lover lures a person to his union
                    of hearts.107 The baited hook was a stock literary conceit and visual
                    representation of fishing, but clichés lack technical or socio-economic
                    context. Hooking techniques show many special adaptations in the
                    Middle Ages.108
                       Fish hooks themselves came straight or curved (Figure 3.3, also
                    Fig. 3.1 middle). The straight hook or gorge is a double-pointed cylinder
                    bound to the line at its midpoint and concealed in a bait. After a fish
                    swallows the bait a pull on the line jams the gorge across its throat.
                    Predator species such as pike, pike-perch, cod, or catfish gulp their prey
                    whole and are well suited for gorge fishing. Wood, horn, and bone gorges
                    three to ten centimeters long have been recovered from, for instance,
                    ninth- through twelfth-century strata at Wolin on the Polish coast.109
                       Curved hooks have a relatively straight shank or shaft, a bend, and a
                    point, which may or may not be barbed. A curved hook is attached
                    opposite the bend by binding the line behind an enlarged area or knotting
                    the line through a hole or loop (eye) in the hook material. Medieval
                    European fish hooks survive in wood, iron, and bronze; less durable
                    materials may also have been used. The bronze hooks from Lac
                    105
                          “Hamis piscor ego, tu vimine, retibus ille.” Sigebert, “Vita … Deodorici,” MGH, SS,
                          4:477–479, l. 92. A more elaborate literary inventory of small-scale equipment is in
                          Supplement 3.4.1.
                    106
                          “Wyr halden vor kleyne gheczow. handwate. stoknetze. klebenetze. hame. worfangil. rewse.
                          Wenczer. [compare Middle High German vencvach, ‘catch net’] und semelichen.”
                          (Benecke, “Beiträge zur Geschichte,” 307).
                    107
                          Andreas Capellanus, De amore, I:3 (ed. Trojel, p. 9; Art of Love, tr. Parry, 31).
                    108
                          Hurum, History of the Fish Hook, is too untidy for incautious use on medieval topics, but
                          see regional discussions in Steane and Foreman, “Medieval fishing tackle,” 142–148;
                          Steane and Foreman, “Archaeology,” 90–91; Lampen, Fischerei und Fischhandel,
                          101–103; and Abad Garcia and Peribáñez Otero, “Pesca fluvial,” 162–163.
                    109
                          Rulewicz, Rybołówstwo Gdańska, 98; for English examples see Steane and Foreman,
                          “Medieval fishing tackle,” 142.
                           Figure 3.2 St. Peter angling with rod, line, and hook from a tenth-
                           century Anglo-Saxon manuscript.
                           Matthew 17: 24–27 specifies that Peter was to cast out his hook (Lat.
                           hamum) to catch the fish, although other representations of the apostles
                           fishing are with a net. Malibu, California, J. Paul Getty Museum, 85 ms
                           79, fol. 2r. Getty Museum open content.
                                Figure 3.3 Medieval fish hooks, straight and curved (predating 1100).
                                Representative selections of straight (left) and curved (centre) hooks in
                                wood and bronze and an artificial lure, bronze, c. 8.5 cm (centre) from
                                Wolin and (right column) of hooks from Great Yarmouth (top) and
                                London (bottom). Selections from illustrations in Rulewicz,
                                Rybołówstwo Gdańska, pp. 98, 112–113, and 129, and in Steane and
                                Foreman, “Medieval fishing tackle,” p. 147, redrawn for R. Hoffmann
                                by D. Bilak.
                    Paladru (Fig. 3.1) measure only 2.2–3.5 cm shank length. Other speci-
                    mens from especially coastal locations (Fig. 3.3) run larger: 5–6 cm
                    wooden hooks from tenth-century Wolin; iron and bronze hooks of
                    about 5–7 cm from eleventh–twelfth-century Szczecin and Great
                    Yarmouth.110 What served for trout or plaice would not for pike or
                    cod. No actual fishing lines survive, though bits of hemp and other twine
                    occur in some sites and use of braided horsehair lines by inland anglers is
                    well documented by the fifteenth century. A hand line mounted on
                    prototypical wooden winding frame was good enough for Norse god
                    Thor – as pictured on a tenth-century carved stone from the Anglo-
                    Saxon church at Gosforth, Cumbria.111 Poor fishers from the French
                    shore of the Channel used single-hooked hand lines in the 1100s.112 Set
                    lines anchored to shoreline features or a thrown stone and carrying many
                    110
                          Colardelle and Verdel, Les Habitants, 208; Górzyński, Zarys historii rybołówstwa, 37;
                          Heindel, “Tordierte Haken”; Schmidt, ed., Leips, fig. 34; Rulewicz, Rybołówstwo
                          Gdańska, 99–130; and Steane and Foreman, “Medieval fishing tackle,” 146–147.
                    111
                          Wheeler and Jones, Fishes, 171; Kmieciński, “Spręt rybacki,” had the same design from
                          twelfth-century Gdańsk.
                    112
                          Hocquet, “Les pêcheries médiévales,” 75–76. So too, thought one twelfth-century
                          artist, did a person fishing in the moat of Hartmannsberg Castle near Salzburg
                          (Noichl, Codex Falkensteinensis, Tafel VIII, Abb. 3).
               113
                     Hoffmann, Fishers’ Craft, 125 et passim and contemporary illustrations in Emperor
                     Maximilian’s Tiroler Fischereibuch, fols. 3v, 12r, and 26r, and his Weisskunig, fol. 169v
                     (Musper, ed., plate 43), as well as Jacopo da Bassano’s 1538 triptych of San Zeno in the
                     parish church of Borso del Grappa near Treviso (Masseini, “Fly fishing in early
                     Renaissance Italy?”). Peter’s long pole in Figure 3.2 is exceptionally early, while the
                     frontispiece of Wynkyn de Worde’s 1496 printing of the English Treatyse in the Second
                     Boke of St Albans shows a rod no longer than the angler, which was by then surely not
                     usual practice. Artists have different licence than fishers.
               114
                     Geoponika, 20:1–3, 10, 12, 14 (Beckh, ed., 1895, 511–522, and Dalby, tr. 339–348);
                     Lancaster, ed., Chartulary of Fountains, 1:306, a charter dating about 1229.
                     Bartholomeus Anglicus, Bk. 18, c. 115, suggested earthworms (Trevisa, tr.,
                     2:1264–1265).
               115
                     Rulewicz Rybołówstwo Gdańska, figs. 21, 25, and 26. The lure shown in Fig. 3.3 is
                     8.5 cm long.
               116
                     Hoffmann, Fishers’ Craft, 126. Subsequent discovery of precise recipes for artificial flies
                     and other baits in an Austrian codex from the 1450s is reported in Hoffmann,
                     “Haslinger Breviary.” The artificial fly was not a medieval invention, Roman author
                     Aelian having described its use in third-century Macedonia.
                                 Figure 3.4 Remains of a wicker fish trap (‘pot gear’). Photograph and
                                 permission provided by Dr. Anton Ervynck, Flemish Heritage Agency.
                    117
                          Brinkhuizen, “Some notes on fishing gear,” 38–50.
                    118
                          Crescentiis, Ruralia commoda, 10:28 (ed. Richter, 3:204–207): “… sed duarum formarum
                          fiunt, una forma est, quod sit interius multum ampla rotunda, in cuius fundo ponitur creta
                          mollis & grana ei annexa, atque intrant quaedam genera piscium causa cibi, & exinde exire
                          nesciunt. Alia forma est tota stricta & longa sed in introitu mediocriter aperta, & in medio
                          ualde stricta, deinde lata, & in cauda strictissima, in quam intrant non causa cibi, sed ut ibi
                          occulte moretur, nec de ipsa sicut de prima exire sciunt.”
                    119
                          Steane and Foreman, “Medieval fishing tackle,” 170–178; Salisbury, “Primitive British
                          fishweirs”; Jenkins, “Trapping of salmon”; Carville, “Economic activities”; Winchester,
                          Landscape and Society, 108–110; Cooper and Ripper, “Fishing and managing.”
                  Early medieval records highlight the basket traps of lords’ and land-
               owners’ indirect subsistence fisheries. Germanic law codes protected this
               form of property.120 Eleventh-century Tegernsee abbey possessed thirty-
               four of them and twelfth-century subjects of Reichenau had to deliver
               cartloads of willow rods to make reussen and stakes to anchor them.121
               Later sources confirm peasants using pots both as a legitimate customary
               means of exploiting commons in, for instance, thirteenth–fourteenth-
               century Lorraine or early fifteenth-century Prussia and as a favoured
               and forbidden tool for poaching in the lord’s private waters.122
                  Woven mesh was an ancient, familiar, and effective tool for capturing
               fish. Nets were important to medieval subsistence fishing but precise uses
               are hard to pin down. Besides many verbal and visual allusions, actual
               fragments of hempen twine, netting, and net-making tools survive from
               several northern continental sites. Some such scraps, descriptions, and
               representations reveal a distinct technique, others are no longer discern-
               ible. This is notably true of images where people in a boat haul a net over
               the side (e.g. Figures 4.1, 4.6, and 7.6 below). Medieval writers and
               artists were often unaware of the components and operation of complex
               fish-catching devices, even though back in the 890s Frankish adminis-
               trators had acknowledged the special skills needed to make and use them.
               Fishers or their families commonly constructed and repaired their own
               nets.123 Many net-fishing methods used a head line of floats and/or a
               weighted bottom line (Figure 3.5 and the left column of Fig. 3.1). The
               floats (wood, bark) and weights (stone, ceramic, lead) are often enough
               recovered from medieval shoreline sites that both English and Polish
               archaeologists have established regional typologies and inferred netting
               techniques from them.124
                  Small netting gear certainly aided active pursuit of schooling or indi-
               vidual fishes. What would now be labeled scoop or dip nets with a bag or
               basket on a handle (truble, pern), lift nets set horizontally on a frame,
               circular cast nets to throw over visible fish in shallows, even seines with
               120
                     Rothair’s Edict §299 (Drew ed., Lombard Laws, 111); Pactus legis Salica Title 27 §28
                     (Drew ed., Laws of the Salian Franks, 91); Tischler, “Fische: Sprachliches,” 138–139.
                     Compare Cassiodorus, Variae 5:20 (Fridh, ed., 198–199) from Visigoth-ruled Italy.
               121
                     Munich BSB Clm 18181, fol. 118v; Rösener, Grundherrschaft im Wandel, 223–227.
               122
                     Collin, “Ressouces alimentaires,” 43; Benecke, “Beiträge zur Geschichte,” 307.
                     Compare Blary, Domaine de Châalis, 95–99; Olson, Chronicle of All That Happens,
                     182–183; Coldicott, Hampshire Nunneries, 78.
               123
                     Cap. de villis, c. 45 (Boretius ed., no. 32); compare discussions in Lampen, Fischerei und
                     Fischhandel, 103–105, and Steane and Foreman, “Medieval fishing tackle,” 156–170.
               124
                     Steane and Foreman, “Medieval fishing tackle,” 162–170 and 178–180 (although the
                     many weights recovered from the Thames cannot be dated); Rulewicz, Rybołówstwo
                     Gdańska, 240–273.
                                Figure 3.5 Net weights and floats from Pomeranian ports, seventh to
                                eleventh centuries.
                                Selected (left) weights in stone, 5 and 10 cm, and lead, 5 cm, from
                                Kołobrzeg and (right) floats in wood, 10–12 cm, from Gdańsk (top) and
                                pine bark, 10–15 cm, from Szczecin (bottom). Selections from
                                illustrations in Rulewicz, Rybołówstwo Gdańska, pp. 142, 161, 190, and
                                264, redrawn for R. Hoffmann by Donna Bilak.
                    elongate panels sized so one or two fishers could circle through the water
                    to corral fish are all encountered often enough in medieval and early
                    modern illustrations (see Fig. 7.7 below). Vernacular dialect names for
                    these devices varied from place to place with or without – as remains true
                    in modern ethnographies – corresponding differences in design, type, or
                    use.125 Ephemeral in construction and indistinguishable at historical
                    distance, this equipment, though appropriate only for small-scale oper-
                    ations, is not easily associated with particular users.
                       Passive netting techniques also included forms small and mobile
                    enough for one or two fishers to set and haul. The trammel net (tremaille,
                    125
                          Compare illustrations and descriptions in Mane, “Images médiévales,” 244–246, with
                          Brinkhuizen, “Some notes on fishing gear,” 9–29, Höfling, Chiemsee-Fischerei, 60–62, or
                          Amacher, Zürcher Fischerei, 55–61.
               126
                     Pactus legis Salicae, Title 27, §28 (Drew ed., 91); Tischler, “Fischerei und
                     Fischereimethoden,” 138–139; Crescenzi, Ruralia commoda, 10:28 (ed. Richter, 3:
                     204–206).
               127
                     Steane and Foreman, “Medieval fishing tackle,” 159; Hoffmann, “Craft of Alpine
                     lakes,” 310; Brandt, Fish Catching Methods, 358; Sidonius Epistolae., lib. 2, no. 2 (ed.
                     Loyen, p. 256). Compare Höfling, Chiemsee-Fischerei, 53–58.
               128
                     Compare Bresc, “Pêche et coraillage,” 110, or the “wondyrchoun” of which English
                     fishers complained in 1376/77 (Given-Wilson, ed., Parliament Rolls, membrane 2:369,
                     Edward III, 1377 January, 50. XXXIII; further in Jones, “‘Lost’ history,” 204–208).
                     For medieval resistance to environmentally destructive trawl fisheries see
                     Chapter 6 below.
               129
                     Crescenzi, Ruralia commoda, 10:28 (ed. Richter, 3: 204–206). The boulieg used in
                     Languedoc lagoons was similar (Larguier, “Des lagunes à mer,” 197).
122
                                                                                                 Figure 3.6 Schematic illustration of seine and trawl technologies. Drawn for R. Hoffmann by Cartographic Office,
                                                                                                 Department of Geography, York University. © R. Hoffmann.
                           3 Take and Eat: Subsistence Fishing                                           123
               subjects of Coupar Angus caught salmon at the Campsie site on the river
               Tay measured 33 fathoms (about 57–66 m) long and tapered from
               4 fathoms at the centre to 3½ (from 7 or 8 to a bit more than 6 m) at
               the outer ends.130 A much-recorded “sagena magna” of the medieval
               south and east Baltic was known in indigenous Balto-Slavic vernaculars
               as the niewód. This method of choice in the Teutonic Order’s own late
               medieval fisheries had earlier been specified in twelfth–thirteenth-cen-
               tury Pomeranian charters and, judging from finds of locally standardized
               weights and floats from most urban sites along that coast, originated by at
               latest the eleventh century. With wings of nearly eighty meters and a
               depth of eighteen, the niewód marked an extreme scale for subsistence
               fishing.131
                  Major early medieval fisheries relied greatly on passive techniques
               using large fixed installations. More or less permanent structures which
               blocked and held migrating fishes should be recognized in many of the
               “fisheries” conveyed as appurtenant to landed property. Barrier fishing
               called for knowledgeable siting and timing plus sophisticated but simple
               engineering. Actual construction, less complex than making nets, was
               well suited for unskilled labour, which could also handle regular main-
               tenance. Work and wealth spent on construction, upkeep, and annual
               operation produced large seasonal yields of favoured fishes, notably
               salmon, sturgeon, shad, lamprey, eel, mullet, and herring. Medieval
               records do not consistently distinguish between barrier devices (generic
               ‘weirs’) which concentrated fish and large enclosure traps which pre-
               vented their escape.
                  Some barriers providing important fishing opportunities were natural –
               falls, rivermouth bars, etc. – and others built primarily for a reason other
               than catching fish. The most widespread barrier fishing took place at mill
               dams and so multiplied during medieval centuries in tandem with the
               watermill. The downstream migration of adult eel gave each miller – or
               his master – a lucrative seasonal opportunity to put basket traps or a lift
               net in his sluice. Reforming abbot John of Gorze (960–973) supplied his
               130
                     Bond, “Monastic fisheries,” 81 and sources there cited; Roberts, “Bishop of
                     Winchester’s fishponds,” 130–135; Winchester, Landscape and Society, 110; Hoffmann,
                     “Salmo salar,” 360 and sources there cited. Compare indirect subsistence use of seines in
                     Kempf, “L’économie et la société,” 44; Bertheau, “Wirtschaftsgeschichte Preetz,” 113,
                     or Hoffmann, “Craft of Alpine lakes.”
               131
                     Willam, “Fischerei des Deutschen Ordens,” 140–142; Seligo, “Zur Geschichte des
                     Fischerei,” 17–19; Benecke, “Beiträge zur Geschichte,” 307; Łęga, Obraz gospodarczy
                     Pomorza, 28–33; Rulewicz, Rybołówstwo Gdańska, 252–277. Sixteenth-century
                     illustrations of the almadraba used in the commercial fishery for bluefin tuna in the
                     Gulf of Cádiz depict an even larger beach seine (see Chapter 8 and Figure 8.4a below).
                    Basket traps (‘pot gear’) for fish and eel placed above the mill dam in
                    the early 14th century Luttrell psalter
British Library Luttrell psalter; add ms 42130, fol. 181r. Used with permission of the British Library
                                Figure 3.7 Basket traps (‘pot gear’) for fish and eel placed above the
                                mill dam on the Lincolnshire estate of Sir Geoffrey Luttrell, c. 1330.
                                Reproduced with permission of the British Library.
                    monks with fish taken at the dams of his newly built mills. Tenth- and
                    eleventh-century Catalan charters carefully itemized the fishing rights of
                    mills.132 Mills and eel were closely joined in the English Domesday Book
                    (1085) and in twelfth-century records of milling partnerships on the
                    Garonne at Toulouse.133 The early fourteenth-century Luttrell Psalter
                    famously illustrates the local watermill and the basket traps set above the
                    dam to catch adult eels migrating downstream (Figure 3.7).
                       Weirs built with express intent of catching fish played a large role for
                    indirect subsistence. Fish weirs134 across streams, rivers, or tidal chan-
                    nels, whether permanently built of stone and timber or of hurdles and
                    132
                          Tischler, “Fischerei und Fischereimethoden,” 139, cites MGH, SS, 4; Riera i Melis,
                          “Sistemes alimentaris,” 23–24, with cases there cited.
                    133
                          Darby, Domesday England, 279–280; Sicard, Moulins de Toulouse, 118–128.
                    134
                          General regional coverages appear in Lampen, “Medieval fish weirs”; Lampen, Fischerei
                          und Fischhandel, 105–110 and 116–118; Salisbury, “Primitive British fishweirs”; Steane
                          and Foreman, “Medieval fishing tackle,” 170–176; Went, “Ancient Irish fishing weirs
                          for salmon”; Jenkins, “Trapping of salmon”; Willem, “Fischerein des Deutschen
                          Ordens,” 138–140; Rippon, Transformation of Coastal Wetlands, 220–221; and
                          O’Sullivan, Foragers, Farmers and Fishers.
               135
                     Remains of weirs from the Neolithic, Bronze, and early Iron Ages have been found in
                     Europe and Britain.
               136
                     Cassiodorus, Variae 5:20; Pactus legis Salica, 27:28 (Drew ed., 91); Halkin and Roland
                     eds., Recueil des chartes, I: nr. 1. In 979 Emperor Otto II settled a dispute over a
                     gurgustium on the river Hörsel (Sickel ed., Urkunden Otto, no. 209).
               137
                     Łęga, Obraz gospodarczy Pomorza, 19–24.
               138
                     “structuram lignorum ad piscandum,” Cosmas, Chronica Bohemorum, ed. Bretholz, 245.
               139
                     Schwab, ed., Prümer Urbar, 176, 250–255, and 183. The same tasks were required of
                     unfree tenants on the Tidenham estate of Anglo-Saxon Bath abbey (Bond, “Monastic
                     fisheries,” 85–86).
               140
                     Vita Hugberti, ch. 8 (MGH, SrM 6, 487).
               141
                     Burton, Cartulary of Byland, nos. 305 and 486–488.
                    142
                          Losco-Bradley and Salisbury, “Saxon and Norman fish weir”; Salisbury, “Primitive
                          British fishweirs.”
               143
                     Appelt and Irgang, eds., SUB, 1: no. 83; Górzyński, Zarys historii rybołówstwa, 21, and
                     sources there cited.
               144
                     Darby, Domesday England, 285; Bond, “Monastic fisheries,” 78; O’Sullivan, Foragers,
                     Farmers and Fishers; Salisbury, “Primitive British fishweirs,” 77; O’Sullivan, “Place,
                     memory and identity,” 449–450. Cohen, “Early Anglo-Saxon fish traps,” found as
                     many as thirty such fish traps in the intertidal zone of the Thames in the London
                     area, with earlier ones mainly of stone, later more use of timber.
               145
                     Catteddu, Archéologie médiévale, 86–87; Ferreira-Priegue, Galicia en el Comercio, 132;
                     Mollat, Europe and the Sea, 143; Billard and Bernard, eds., Pêcheries de Normandie.
               146
                     Coopland, Abbey of St. Bertin, 59 note: “apparatus fecerunt qui vulgo verra dicuntur in terra
                     illa ita dispositos quod pisces intrare possint fossatum illud sed exire non possint.”
               147
                     A 999 charter for Vierzon on the Cher, a Loire tributary, explained “et nos teneamus
                     exclusam totam sive decursus aquarum, in ea quam longe opus fuerit eam edificandi et
                     prosequendi et foramina ad piscamentum nostrum in fluminis Cari” (Querrien, “Pêche et
                     consummation,” 423). See also Brien, “Développement de l’ordre cistercien en
                     Poitou,” 4–5; Verdon, “Recherches sur la pêche,” 346 note; and Fauroux, ed., Recueil
                     des actes des ducs, no. 34.
               148
                     Vendittelli, “La pesca nelle acque interne,” 116–121; Vendittelli, “Diritti ed impianti,”
                     392–399. Squatriti, Water and Society, 116–117, found equally complex structures even
                          in ninth-century Italy, but the evidence fails to support the inference of their use to
                          rear fish.
                    149
                          Radke, “Bemerkungen zum Heringszaunen.”
                    150
                          Rippon, “Making the most of a bad situation?,” 119–122.
                    151
                          O’Sullivan, “Place, memory and identity,” 461–463.
                    152
                          Exploits of Odo, Anselm, and other saints were mentioned above. St. Liudger
                          (742–809) caught a sturgeon when his Frisian experts said the season had passed
                          (Diekamp, ed., Vita S. Liudgeri, c. 29, p. 34). The merchant turned holy man Godric
                          of Finchale (c. 1065–1170) repeatedly confounded servants by his ability to put salmon
                          and other fish into their nets (Reginald, Libellus S. Godrici, ed. Stevenson, 123–125,
                          159–161, 206–207, 230–231, and 240–241).
               people who could keep fish edible for even a few weeks or months after
               capture greatly extended the usefulness of seasonally large concentra-
               tions and eased provisioning for periods of seasonally high fish consump-
               tion. As just observed at Glastonbury, the catch might be held alive or the
               spoiling of its butchered flesh somehow delayed.
                  Temporary live storage was especially inviting where captured fresh-
               water and coastal marine fishes could be retained in their own habitats.
               Tanks and cages made from non-durable materials are obscure in the
               early Middle Ages, though they may then have served peasant needs as
               they later did those of fishmongers and urban households (see next
               chapter).
                  On elite sites permanent fish tanks measuring up to some hundreds of
               square meters go back to the start of the Middle Ages. Cassiodorus
               retired in the mid-500s to his family estate of Vivarium on Italy’s south-
               ern coast, named for its vivaria, natural rock coves improved for storing
               marine fish. The three basins still recognizable there measure roughly
               10–12 by 4–5 m and just over 1 m deep.153 Charlemagne’s capitulary de
               villis urged regular restocking of wiwariis so a fresh supply was always
               available; a generation later the model survey, Brevium exemplum, noted
               stocked ponds inside the garden enclosure at three of four (unnamed)
               royal estates.154 Structures of this kind and intent remained a feature at
               favoured residences. England’s king Henry III (1216–1272) had serva-
               toria for fish made or improved at York and in his park at Windsor. His
               contemporaries in Champagne, Burgundy, and Savoy just had different
               names for the similar facilities they had built for their chefs’ use.155
                  The steady demand of religious communities supported fish storage
               facilities at many monastic sites. Tenth-century reformers Olpert of
               153
                     Cassiodorus, Institutes, I, 29:1 (Mynors ed., 73; tr. O’Donnell, Cassiodorus, 194) and
                     Courcelle, “La site du monastére,” 287–300. O’Donnell, Cassiodorus, 194–196 and
                     244–246, points out that this part of the Institutes circulated little during the
                     Middle Ages.
               154
                     Cap. de villis, c. 65 (Boretius ed., no. 32), and Brevium exemplum in Boretius, ed.,
                     Capitularia, no. 128.
               155
                     McDonnell, Inland Fisheries, 20–23; Steane, “Royal fishponds,” 39–40. For
                     contemporary French princes see Nada Patrone, Il cibo, 320–321; Lambert, Du
                     manuscripts à la table, 222; Bourquelot, “Fragments de Comptes,” 67 and 71–73;
                     Hoffmann “Carpes pour le duc”; Hoffmann, “Aquaculture in Champagne,” 73. None
                     of the piscinae and vivaria carefully inventoried from tenth–twelfth-century sources in
                     Lampen, Fischerei und Fischhandel, 126–129, show the scale or purposeful management
                     of fish varieties, fodder, or reproduction required for production rather than storage.
                     Likewise, the famous valle di pesce of the Venetian lagoon neither so much reared fish as
                     they trapped migratory schools and retained the adults nor did they serve primarily
                     subsistence purposes (Faugeron, Nourrir la ville, 180–184), so they are discussed in
                     some detail in Chapters 4 and 6 below.
                    Gembloux and Odo of Cluny each reportedly arranged a pond beside the
                    house so monks’ grudging acquiescence in dietary abstinence could be
                    reinforced with a constant supply of fresh fish.156 Store ponds at Cluny,
                    which reared no fish during its prestigious eleventh-century apogee, were
                    set along the Grosne river across from the abbey but easily accessible to
                    the fish kitchen.157 Elsewhere as in England, “a single stew stocked from
                    a natural source … is … [the] type of pond to which most documents
                    generally refer before the fourteenth century.”158 Especially in the early
                    Middle Ages this temporary storage of captured fish came nowhere near
                    purposeful rearing of domesticated varieties, but did promise fresh fish
                    even in seasons when the schools were not easily available.
                       Early medieval Europeans also knew how to extend the time and space
                    over which a dead fish could safely be eaten. The principal methods of
                    preservation delayed spoiling by drying the fish physically or with the aid of
                    smoke or salt.159 Anaerobic fermentation, brining, or marinating then had
                    less importance. The choice of technique played environmental resources,
                    especially climate and fish species, against available economic capital.
                       Many kinds of fish will keep a long time if allowed to dry thoroughly
                    and not re-wetted until ready to eat. No additional ingredients are
                    needed. But the unaided drying of fish calls for a consistent low humidity
                    available only at Europe’s climatic extremes, arctic winter cold or south-
                    ern summer heat. And in oil-rich fishes like herring, salmonids, and the
                    tuna family, the fat quickly oxidizes to make the flesh inedibly rancid.
                    Codfishes, flatfishes, and pike, however, have less oily white flesh apt for
                    drying. As observed in an introductory fish tale, since the Bronze Age
                    and throughout pre-Viking and Viking times coast dwellers in northern
                    Norway and their North Atlantic island colonies caught and dried local
                    cods for their own consumption. Mediterranean hakes were parched in
                    the summer sun.
                       Dense wood smoke dries fish flesh and induces chemical changes that
                    deter bacterial action, though hot smoke and cold give different results.
                    Smoked fish last only days or weeks, not months, but the old peasant
                    custom was likely known to lords’ cooks and tables. Fish-smoking pits at
                    early medieval Biskupin, a northern Polish settlement, are accompanied
                    156
                          Sigebert and Godescalc, Gesta abbatum, c. 33, ed. Pertz in MGH, SS. 8; John of
                          Salerno, Vita Odonis (PL vol. 133, cols. 80 and 83; tr. Sitwell, St. Odo, 78–81).
                    157
                          Evans, Monastic Life, 72–73; Ulrich, Consuetudines, III:18 (MPL 149, col. 760–62).
                          Ulrich’s likely model, Bernard of Cluny, “Ordo Cluniacensis,” 1:6 (ed. Hergott,
                          147–150), specifies aspects of fish service Ulrich omitted.
                    158
                          Chambers and Gray, “Excavations of fishponds,” 115.
                    159
                          Cutting, Fish Saving, and Cutting, “Historical aspects,” remain authoritative on
                          biochemical processes but obsolete and Anglocentric regarding medieval history.
               by bones of pike, perch, roach, bream, and catfish. Written sources hint
               at a wider regional practice.160
                  Most of Europe lacked climate or fish to dry unaided, so extended
               storage or transport of dead fish in large quantities called for another raw
               material. Salt, which both absorbs water and is itself antiseptic, served all
               preindustrial economies as the great preservative. Romans had enjoyed
               garum, a sauce brewed of salt fish. Access to salt and fish raised the value
               of lagoon and estuary fisheries. But away from southern seacoasts salt
               had to come in large and costly quantities from isolated natural brine
               springs, accessible deposits of rock salt, or the fuel and space to boil
               down sea water. Fisheries in the Austro-Bavarian Alps were exploited in
               the eighth–ninth centuries together with the salteries there, and later
               those of inland Pomerania. Ninth century Bobbio directed payments
               from salt ships to its fisheries on Lake Garda.161
                  The fish most notably tied to salt was herring: untreated, it spoils in a
               day.162 Though herring are a northern, not a Mediterranean animal,
               their Latin name alecium (and so also Romance forms like hallec) derived
               from an old southern term for salt fish, allec, and ultimately from the
               Greek root for salt, hals. Hence early medieval herring fisheries arose
               near salt supplies, like those of the then Bay of the Somme, and herring
               enter the historical record “dusted” (sapoudre) with salt. Domesday Book
               had dues in dry-salted herrings from coastal Suffolk and so did the
               Norman fair at Fécamp. Further south in the Atlantic, pilchards or
               sardines and in the Mediterranean also anchovies were handled in the
               same way, landed and quickly, still with heads and entrails intact, heaped
               up into salt-covered piles. Dry-salted herring traveled in bundles, bags,
               or baskets and kept some months, though not so long that great quan-
               tities reached consumers far inland. That would await methods for
               anaerobic brining in sealed barrels unfamiliar to early medieval fishers
               and fish-eaters (see Chapter 8).163
               160
                     Bukowski, “Uwagi o konserwacji ryb.”
               161
                     Bowlus, Franks, Moravians, and Magyars, 43–44; Rulewicz, Rybołówstwo Gdańska,
                     345–347; Castagnetti et al., eds., Inventari altomedievali, 138 and 159; and Squatriti,
                     Water and Society, 114–116.
               162
                     Hocquet, “Les pêcheries,” 48–49 and 79–83; Hocquet, “Des paysans de la mer.”
               163
                     Danes on Roskildefjord ate whole fresh herring in the Viking Age and gutted and brined
                     only from the thirteenth century (Enghoff, “Medieval herring industry”; and Enghoff,
                     “Southern North Sea,” 124–125).
                    164
                          Berger and Brochier, “Rapports de la géoarchéologie”; Dotterweich and Dreibrodt,
                          “Past land use”; and Bradley et al., “Medieval Quiet Period.”