Chap­ter XIII – The Com­pleat Angler begins with Piscator’s thought­ful reflec­tions on the eel, a fish both admired and mis­un­der­stood. With gen­uine curios­i­ty, he recounts the many the­o­ries about how eels repro­duce, a mys­tery that has puz­zled nat­u­ral­ists for gen­er­a­tions. Some have claimed that eels are born from mud, oth­ers from dew, while more ground­ed observers like Ron­deletius pro­pose sub­tle anatom­i­cal evi­dence sug­gest­ing they breed in ways not yet ful­ly grasped. This blend of folk­lore and evolv­ing sci­ence adds depth to the chap­ter, reveal­ing a time when obser­va­tion, imag­i­na­tion, and inher­it­ed wis­dom all worked togeth­er to explain nature. The Romans’ admi­ra­tion for the eel is pre­sent­ed with admi­ra­tion, call­ing it a cen­ter­piece of ele­gant ban­quets, much like Hele­na was to beau­ty. Eels, there­fore, are not just food but sym­bols of refine­ment in both culi­nary and cul­tur­al terms.

As Pis­ca­tor explores the life of eels, he intro­duces their sea­son­al rhythms and instincts. In cold­er months, they retreat deep into the mud, avoid­ing the frost in a man­ner rem­i­nis­cent of hiber­nat­ing swal­lows. Their habits are elu­sive and secre­tive, favor­ing twi­light and evening activ­i­ty, mak­ing them an excit­ing chal­lenge for anglers. Despite their slug­gish appear­ance, eels are tena­cious and ver­sa­tile, eat­ing near­ly any­thing from raw beef to earth­worms. The best catch­es hap­pen under cov­er of night, using bait that appeals to their sen­si­tive, greedy appetites. Sir Fran­cis Bacon’s note that eels live about ten years con­trasts with sto­ries of old­er lam­preys, hint­ing at the greater mys­ter­ies in fish biol­o­gy. Pis­ca­tor draws on these tales not just to instruct, but to enchant, build­ing a deep respect for the eel and the sto­ries sur­round­ing it.

From the­o­ry, the chap­ter tran­si­tions into prac­tice. Snigling—a tra­di­tion­al method of cap­tur­ing eels—becomes a focal point of Piscator’s prac­ti­cal advice. With a hooked line and the patience to find crevices under stones and tree roots, the angler can tempt the eel from its hid­ing place. It is a method that requires calm hands and a thought­ful approach, often more reward­ing than force­ful strate­gies. Once caught, the eel is to be han­dled with care, its strength and slip­per­i­ness prov­ing tricky even after it’s out of the water. The instruc­tions are pre­cise, almost rit­u­al­is­tic, ele­vat­ing the process into a craft. This focus on tech­nique reflects the broad­er val­ues of angling: patience, obser­va­tion, and respect for the quar­ry.

But catch­ing is only half the jour­ney. Pis­ca­tor offers a rich­ly detailed recipe for prepar­ing the eel, com­plete with herbs, anchovies, and spices like nut­meg. The empha­sis is not mere­ly on taste but on trans­form­ing the wild into the refined. Cook­ing becomes an exten­sion of the angler’s art, cel­e­brat­ing the rewards of time spent in har­mo­ny with nature. Still, Pis­ca­tor tem­pers his enthu­si­asm with cau­tion, acknowl­edg­ing the poten­tial dan­gers asso­ci­at­ed with eat­ing eels, espe­cial­ly when not prop­er­ly pre­pared. Sto­ries of ill­ness, even death, serve as reminders that nature must be respect­ed, even when it offers abun­dance. The les­son is clear: indul­gence should nev­er over­shad­ow aware­ness.

Expand­ing the dis­cus­sion, Pis­ca­tor briefly includes oth­er smooth-skinned species like the lam­prey, not­ing their sim­i­lar­i­ties and dif­fer­ences. While they share some behav­iors and habi­tats, they are dis­tinct in their biol­o­gy and in the angler’s regard. These men­tions are not diver­sions but an expan­sion of the angler’s knowl­edge base. Under­stand­ing what to fish for—and what to leave—becomes just as vital as the act of fish­ing itself. Piscator’s appre­ci­a­tion for the diver­si­ty of water life ties into his larg­er phi­los­o­phy: that angling is a gate­way to observ­ing the world more close­ly, more mind­ful­ly.

This chap­ter, rich in tex­ture and lay­ered with insight, cap­tures the spir­it of The Com­pleat Angler not mere­ly as a man­u­al, but as a reflec­tion on human curios­i­ty and nature’s com­plex­i­ty. Through eels, both admired and mis­trust­ed, Pis­ca­tor invites the read­er into a rela­tion­ship with the riv­er that is both thought­ful and prac­ti­cal. Fish­ing becomes more than sport—it becomes a jour­ney into under­stand­ing, where lore meets obser­va­tion and din­ner might come with a les­son. The eel, slip­pery yet noble, serves as a per­fect sub­ject for such explo­ration, chal­leng­ing anglers not only to catch well but also to think deeply.