fsB. ^6, 1897.] 
^^'OREST AND STREAM. 
MEN 1 HAVE FISHED WITH. 
XXXII.-BIlIy Shaw. 
Among men who occasionally go a-fishing there is a class 
of jolly old roosters to whom a fishing trip means enjoy- 
ment of various kinds, the least of which is the capture of 
fish. Billy was easily in this class, but not one of those 
who make an angling trip an excuse to cover a spree, and 
then try to save their reputations by buying a lot of fish 
and sending presents to friends as trophies of the angle. 
There are such men, and most of us have known them. 
As they do not come under the head of fishermen nor an- 
glers, I write no more of them. Billy loved good company, 
and plenty of it. He was not a Walton to sit by the river 
bank alone, and contemplate while watching his cork or 
quill go down; but I'll try to introduce him to the acquaint- 
ance of readers of Forest aUd Stream as a fairly good fellow. 
The idea of an introduction in this way is not original. 
A few days ago I met my old arm}'^ comrade, Judge W. E. 
Slocum, now of Brooklyn, who said: ''I want to thank you 
for introducing me to some interesting men. I had not 
the pleasure of knowing Francis Endicott in life, but I 
know him now, and thank you for the introduction," The 
Judge gave words to a thought that I could never have 
expressed. The idea in these sketches has been to show 
you the man, and not to tell fishing stories of more or less 
credibility. With this understanding between us, permit 
me to introduce to your notice Mr. "Billy" Shaw. 
His tombstone, for he is dead, probably has the name of 
"William Shaw" upon it; but I will affirm that I knew 
this man from childhood, and never once heard him called 
William. 
As a chronicler of some facts which may have partly es- 
caped the notebook, but have left an imprint on the gela- 
tine film of memory, it becomes necessary to refute an in- 
sinuation of Judge Slocum that "All the 'men I have 
fished with' are dead;" and the inference which it implies. 
He is ten years my junior. 
My earliest recollection of Billy is that he was the only 
child of a poor widow, living in Greenbush, and that he 
had to hustle to help support his mother as soon as he was 
old enough. He took an occasional part in our tumbling 
in the bark pile back of the tannery of Ruyter & Van 
Valkenburgh, but was rather too closely knit for somer- 
saults and never got near the head of that class. He was 
about my age and once or twice went down with our 
party to fish in the island creek, the Popskinny, as we 
spelled it. A trifling thing fixes this in memory. John 
Atwood said: "Look at Billy Shaw's line! He's got bis 
hooks below his sinker, just as if he was a-fishin' ofFen the 
dock and the current would hold the baits up." We were 
fishing from the bank with hand lines in quite still water 
and naturally his baits lay on the muddy bottom. Swing- 
ing the sinkers around, we would cast " out ,30ft.. into the 
middle of the creek, and the hooks, being above the sink- 
ers, would rest near but not on the bottom. Billy was 
green at fishing, but altered his rig and learned a lesson. 
Billy's little cafe in Albany was in full blast when I re- 
turned to Albany in 1865, and it was famous for its oysters, 
and once while one of his men was opening some Shrews- 
burys a trifle faster than I could dispose of them he 
asked: 
"How are you getting along now?" 
"Slowly, Billy; I'm getting a few pounds of meat on my 
bones and can walk without a cane, but will never be good 
for much." 
"Come along with us on our annual fishing trip; we'll be 
away for four or five weeks, maybe six, and it'll help you 
more than to stay here and mope around." 
"Can't do it, Billy. Why, I can't walk a mile on pave- 
ments, and a rod among briers and vines would do me up 
No, no! Couldn't think of it." 
"You needn't walk a rod on shore, for we've got a 
schooner and will tow down the Hudson to New York, then 
up the East River and sail up Long Island Sound and fish 
for bluefish down about Orient Pointy Plum Island and 
other places. The schooner can accommodate ten and 
there's only six to go, seven with you. How's them 
oysters?" 
"Fine! This is the only place in Albany where Shrews- 
bury s are kept. My miserable stomach can digest them 
because they have not been plumped in fresh water, but it 
refuses freshened oysters." 
"Last week," said Billy, "there was a man from Schenec- 
tady came in and called for oysters. He didn't ask for 
any particular brand; just said, 'gi' me a dozen,' and the 
oyster butcher opened him a nice, fat Shrewsbury. He 
kicked up a row and I went to see what was the matter. 
'See here,' sez he, 'you don't s'pose I'm a goin' to eat an 
oyster that's got tlie janders, do you? Look a-that!' I ex- 
plained that the oysters from the Shrewsbury River, in 
New Jersey, were always tinted by the yellow clay of the 
river bed, and told the butcher to open the gentleman 
some East Rivers or other white oysters. While he was 
eating the other oysters with great satisfaction Erastus 
Corning and a friend came in and called for Shrewsburys. 
The man from Schenectady watched them closely and saw 
that every oyster they ate was yellow. He paid the 
cashier and then said to me, 'I'll be durned ef I didn't 
think them isters had the yaller janders. an' you wastryin' 
to play 'em off' on me 'cause I come from the country.' 
Next day he came in and said: 'Gi' me some o' them val- 
ler isters, I forget the name of 'em,' and he came here 
every day while he was in town. But how about the fish- 
ing trip; will you go?" 
"When do you start, who is your cook, and will you take 
a doctor along?" 
"We win leave Albany on the 3d of .July; Sam, our cook, 
will be the doctor, and he is a very highly colored man. 
If your blooming stomach can't stand his cooking vou can 
cook for yourself. You needn't eat a thing on the whole 
trip if you don't want to, but it'll do you good to see us 
eat. You've been discharged and haven't got to report to 
any duffers, so come along." 
A week later the stanch schooner Rainbow left Albany 
in company with a big tow of barges and canalers for New 
York. The dwellers in towns along the river who were 
awake saw a fine display of fireworks from the schooner, 
and as I sank to sleep about midnight the last thing I 
remember was hearing Shaw say: "No, sir! We won't 
hoist the Jolly Roger until we get to Long Island Sound. 
Who ever heard of a pirate ship being towed by a steam- 
boat?" 
The next morning we arranged things in the hold, where 
there was plenty of ^space to hang up clothing. Four of 
the party were old acquaintances and the others soon were. 
It soon appeared that I was a member of a gang of pirates 
who were to strike terror to the people of Long Island, and 
that the owner of the schooner and his son — who were the 
working crew — were to be pressed into the service after 
passing the fort on Throgg's Neck and entering the waters 
of the Sound, which we did two days later. It was also 
evident that the party had been selected for some musical 
ability, as "Capt. Kidd's Minstrels" held their first rehears- 
al the next evening. 
Leaving the tug after saluting the fort with our port gun 
— which also did dutj'- as the starboard gun, if required — 
the Jolly Roger was run to the fore and saluted with cheers. 
It was an enormous one, made of black bunting with the 
white skull and cross-bones neatly sewed in,and large letters 
saying "No Quarter," over very small ones, "to Fish," added. 
On the mainmast was tacked: 
A List of ye Pirates. 
J. H,' Norton, clam opener, weather regulator and fiddler 
(crab). 
Billy Shaw, first fish liar, splicer of the main brace, 
middle man and interlocutor. 
Ben Van Voast, keeper of the Jolly Roger and of the 
cribbage board; also second fiddler, if he can plav "Old 
Dan Tucker." 
Frank Quackenbush, assistant fish liar, chief of the 
horse marines, compass oiler and manipulator of the tam- 
borine. 
F. M., keeper of the log, head eel skinner, custodian of 
the keel and tormentor of the banjo. 
George Van Allen,auchor polisher, grub destroyer, juggler 
of the bones, heel twister and jigist extraordinary. 
C. F. Bell, bell boy, pie biter, keeper of the seal (if we 
get any) and basso profundioso. 
Sam, head galley slave, concocter of lobscouse, maker of 
dundyfunk, originator of plum duff*, and audience of the 
troupe. 
Old Joe and young Joe, supernumeraries, wigglers of 
the tiller, letters-go of the jib and custodians of the sheet 
rope. 
Orders. 
1. Any pirate giving quarter to any dogfish, whale or 
spider crab, or a quarter to any native for bait, unless the 
native is watching his clams, shall have no plums in, his 
duft' during the voyage. 
2. Any one using any appetizer except bilge water be- 
fore breakfast shall have his elixir confiscated for the 
benefit of the crew. 
3. No one shall sleep more than twenty hours out of the 
twenty-four. 
4. No one shall use Sam's brush without his per- 
mission, and any pirate M'ho shall use charcoal for drawing 
charts on Sam's face shall be blackballed. 
5. No one shall mention hooking a big fish unless he 
can show him on the deck. Put up"(your fish) or shut up. 
6. Any pirate heard speaking of the hold as "down cel- 
lar," or of the deck as "upstairs," shall be forced to splice 
the maih brace. 
7. None of the conipany shall throw the skipper over- 
board in a gale and take the helm unless we are in 
danger. 
8. When the water is rough every pirate must heave 
when the skipper sings "Heave ho!" 
The fishing was good and we struck a big school of blue- 
fish in Plum Gut one day and took nearly 800 in about five 
hours, the fish averaging about 31bs. each. Our stores 
needed replenishing and we sailed around to Greenport, 
sold the fish to a dealer who sent them to New York that 
afternoon, and we laid in fresh eggs as well as other good 
things and then tied up for the night. In fact we sought 
a harbor most every night in order to stretch our legs on 
shore. But there is no harbor between Port Jefferson and 
Orient, something like fifty miles, and twice we anchored 
near the smaller islands. 
When the nights were fine, as most July nights are on 
Long Island Sound, Capt. Kidd's minstrels held a perform- 
ance—with white faces— on deck, mainly for their own 
aniusement and incidentally for that of any rats which 
might be about the wharves. Our quartette was very 
good, Quackenbush having a pure tenor voice that was 
well known to Albany churchgoers of that day, and he 
had also sung in English opera with the Caroline Rich- 
ings Company. As I sit writing this I feel incompetent to 
tell you what a gigantic mountain of fun we had ! When 
Van Allen came on deck in knee breeches and shoes with 
parchment soles, sprinkled a little fine sand on the cover 
of the hatch, and doubled and trebled every kink in the 
lyric that the banjo sang, old black Sam, our permanent 
audience, would scream: "Look a-dah! Listen to dat 
little double while he's weedin' cawn! Now he kivers 
taters, fust single an' den double, an' by golly he tribbles 
em! Um, um, I t'ink I hab see' some jiggin' in ole Var- 
ginny, but dat ah boy he beats 'em all, he do, fo' a fac'. 
Yah ha! He make more music wid he foot dan der banier. 
I golly!" ■ ' 
Sam was a good specimen of the old-time Southern 
darky— happy and improvident. Always anxious to get 
a dollar, and in as great haste to spend it. His pay on the 
pirate craft was not large, but his tips for special service 
and the princely wave of the hand when a pirate said, 
"Keep the change," were beyond the dreams of the most 
avaricious pirate of our fleet. In answer to my question 
Sam said: "Yes, sah! I does make a few dolla's in de 
summah season, sah, but somehow I'se nevah lucky at 
faro, pokah nor policy, sah, an' I'll tell yo' dat ah policy is 
a game dat I'm alius gwine to beat, but somehow de right 
numbas doan cum out. Las' winta I plaved de wash- 
woman's gig, fo' 'leven fo'ty-fo', 'leben times," an' each time 
two ob de numbas cum, an' it was de same wid de nigga 
gig, nine, ten, nineteen, an' I 'suit de dream book, but I 
specs I's hoodood." 
"Sam," said I, "why don't you put away a dollar in a 
bank once in a while, so as to have something to bury you, 
as you have no family nor friends?" 
"Lordy, Miss'r Fred, dat's no use to me! What I want 
save money to bury me fo'? When I'se dead de Boa'd 
o' Health dey bury me; dey doan leave no dead col- 
o'd folks layin' 'roun'. No, no, dev'll take cah o' me. Yah 
ha!" " ' 
Days passed, we took no note of time. Billy Shaw once 
remarked: "Some old dufl'er once said, 'Time was made for 
slaves,' but he forgot to include setting hens, for it takes 
just twenty-one days to hatch a chicken." In my capacity 
as keeper of the log" there seemed to be no log to keep; 
for we hadn't been near a sawmill, and if there had been 
a saw log floating in our vicinity and we could have cap- 
tured it I would have done my best to keep it. How can 
a fellow keep what he hasn't got? As the head eel skin- 
ner I was alert, but no eels were caught; and as the '-cus- 
todian of the keel" I— but there's no use in bragging. 
The keel came back in good order and spoke for itself. 
On Sundays we had plum duff", and for the benefit of be- 
nighted inlanders who have never been outside of Sandy 
Hook It may be well to say: "Duff"" is a sailor's word for 
pudding, and is merely .Tack's mispronunciation of "dough," 
which m years agone he rhvmed with "enough." See 
Mister? "Plums," of course, is English for what we call 
raisins," and there you are. Billy Shaw said: "Plum pud- 
ding and plum duff are one and inseparable, now and 
hereafter. FlumUbus pudding, epluribm duff." On other 
days a dessert of some kind, to my relief; for a heavy 
boiled lot of indigestible dough, whether you call it a plum' 
pudding or give it the more sailor-like cognomen of plum 
duff, is a gastronomic abomination. ■ 
One morning Billy Shaw was detected in eating some of 
the bait clams before breakfast. He was promptly seized, 
bound and, brought before Norton, the clam-opener. He 
pleaded guilty, but craved indulgence because he had not 
swallowed the shells. Mercy, tempered by extenuating 
circumstances, prevailed, and Billy was permitted to live 
and be restored to his lamily without the stain of crime 
upon him. Pirates are partly human. They have feelings 
the same as sand worms and mud turtles, and we didn't 
propose to blast the life and business prospects of Billy 
Shaw in Albany on account of a few miserable clams. Of 
course he had violated the rules, and we could have killed 
him and fed him to the sharks, and no right thinking man 
would have said that we did wrong; but there was a spark 
of humanity left in the breast of every pirate, which said- 
"No, I druther put up fur a bushel o' clams, an' all the 
salt, vinegar an' peppersass 'at goes with 'em, 'an to have 
Billy Shaw sent home dead for vi'latin' some rules about 
eatin' clams!" 
. We anchored and fished for blackfish, as we called the 
tautog, sea bass or anything that chose to bite; and before 
we had been out a week the fun of filling some pirate's 
bed with sea spiders, starfish or clam shells seemed to lack 
variety. The crew settled down to serious business. Old 
Joe, our skipper, made us a speech one morning, and he 
said: "Gentlemen; I'll call ye gentlemen ef you do try to 
be pirates, fur I hain't seen ye do nothin' disrupable, an' I 
hain't got much knowledge o' how pirates act. But I don't 
think some things is fair. Now, I've sailed ye, an' Black 
Sam has cooked fur ye afore, an' he's as good a cook as any 
schooner carries; but the goin's on o' this trip is diff'runt. 
You've allers used me well, but I don't think you're fair 
on Sam. Of course if some one cuts up Mr. Shaw's sus- 
penders and slips 'em in the bean soup when Sam ain't 
a-lookin', he can't help it; but it hurts his rippitation as a 
cook when the soup comes on the table and the pieces of 
suspenders is found in it. Now, I like fun fustrate, an' I 
don't mind a handful of curled hair taken out of a cushion 
ef anybody wants it, but to find it mixed in the hash hurts 
Sam's rippitation, and I don't see no fun in it. Besides, it 
spiles the hash. That's all, gentlemen, I ain't got no more 
ter say." 
Capt. Joe's speech was applauded and Van Allen of- 
fered a resolution that anyone who should introduce any 
foreign substances, not generally used as food, into the 
soup or hash, should be considered an ungentlemanly pi- 
rate; and that in future if buttons, combs, suspender 
buckles, gold Avatches, or other valuable articles should be 
found in the soup they were to be the property of the 
finder. 
Quackenbush and Norton had been fishing for sea bass 
in one of the small boats and had been gone all day. The 
weather was fine and there was no fear for them, but with 
the tenor and first violin gone there was no minstrel per- 
formance as we lay at anchor in the Sound. They came 
aboard unheeded in the night, for these careless pirates 
simply put lights in the rigging, as law requires, and went 
to sleep. Such combined carelessness and respect for law 
is not on record in the annals of piracy. 
In the morning they told of findinga dead man floating 
near them and how they towed him into Port Jefferson 
harbor, as the nearest place to get rid of him, and then 
turned him over to the coroner, but they must be back at 
the inquest to relate the particulars. So, with "A yo heave 
ho, and a rumbelow" our mud hook came up 'and the 
Rainbow stood in for the harbor with the morning breeze. 
The poor fellow belonged near the harbor,, was a hard- 
working bayman who had somehow fallen overboard dur- 
ing some momentary dizziness perhaps, but he had been 
missed for nearly a fortnight; the tides playing him to and 
fro. There was a weeping widow and several small chil- 
dren, and they were in desperate want. Their bread win- 
ner had not been winning for some time, yet Sam man- 
aged to fill up the children and the pirates added a little^ 
cash to the fund that the charitable people of the place 
chipped in, and then a merchant suggested that we give an 
entertainment for the benefit of the family of the dead 
man in the town hall. Capt. Joe cheerfully gave up his, 
cushions for wigs and the thing was done. "Capt. Kidd's 
Minstrels" made their first and only appearance in pub- 
lic on this occasion. I have no programme and can only 
recall that the features of the evening were the rendering 
of "The Lost Child," from the opera of "The Bronze 
Horse," with its echoes, and a tenor song by Quackenbush 
about a father who did not come home when "the clock in 
the steeple struck one," and a sub-cellar lament by Bell 
because he was rocked in some cradle of the deep. The 
banjo obligate was perfectly horrible, yet we escaped with 
our lives and Shaw turned over some money to the widow. 
Perhaps it is due to her intercession that we left the place 
without molestation. 
As the first fish liar, Shaw exacted a promise that none - 
of us would contradict any yarns that he and his assistant, 
Quackenbush, might tell in Albany. We agreed; and as 
the keeper of the log it gives me pleasure to say that I have 
never heard a man doubt the fish stories told by any mem- 
ber of the piratical crew that infested Long Island Sound 
during the century of which we write. 
While returning home up the Sound we dipped the 
Jolly Roger and fired a gun as we passed Execution Rock 
and light, in honor Of some pirate or two who were hanged 
there in the long ago. We knew at the time the names oi 
our predecessors who danced upon the wind over that lone 
rock, but really I was a pirate for such a short time that I 
