|
Third
Annual Dinner of the
Beaverkill Trout Club
March
29, 1919 |
Enlargement
On
the ground floor of the
Voorhess Farmhouse a large
central room serves as
an office. The three interior
walls of the room each
have a door. One opens
into an entry hall and
sitting room to the east
(upstream). A second opens
into a dining room to
the west (downstream).
The third exits into a
pantry, which contains
a further door opening
into a large screened
porch; this adjoins the
kitchen, and has tables,
sinks, refrigerators and
other accoutrements for
cleaning and preserving
fish. On the northerly
exterior wall, two large
windows overlooking the
porch afford views up
and down the stream,
including of the “Docking” and the “Home” pools. Between the windows, a desk is placed such that its user may view not only the stream but, looking through the windows in the sitting room, also the Clubhouse (or boarding house) building.
The
room is well situated
for an office, whether
to serve the business
aspects of running
a farm, a boarding
house,
a fishing club, or
all
three. Indeed, the
room
has been used as
an
office
for these purposes
since
the time when I first
visited the Club
in
1963.
Van Parr once
told me
it was similarly
employed
going back to before
the First World
War,
when
farming in the Beaverkill
valley had started
a long decline and
the
Beaverkill
Trout Club, at least
as a stand-alone
men’s
fishing club in
corporate
form, was in its
early
days 1.
One
day some years ago, as
I was passing through
the Club office from the
dining room, the door
into the entry way and
sitting room happened
to be closed, and I noticed
a framed photograph hanging
on the wall in a place
hidden from view behind
the usually opened door.
The Club has a lot of
old photographs hanging
on the walls, but this
attracted my attention
that day and turned out
to be a group portrait
with the title: “Third Annual Dinner Of The Beaverkill Trout Club.” The date of the dinner is given as March 29, 1919. Reference to a perpetual calendar shows this to be the Saturday night before the opening of the New York State trout fishing season on April 1, 1919, the following Tuesday.
The
scene thus opens on a
group of 47 men, with
some apparent father and
son combinations, posing
for a photograph at two
long tables laid out with
white linen tablecloths.
The site of the event
obviously is a private
room in a hotel or club,
apparently in New York
City, but what is written
out as the location of
the dinner has faded to
illegibility over the
years. The room is illuminated
with gas and festooned
with American flags, patriotic
bunting, and banners declaring “Welcome.” What was this all about?
The
prior November 11, 1918,
of course, had seen the
armistice in Europe, setting
the stage for the end
of the “War to End all Wars”; but the War, and the involvement of the United States in it, would not fade away for quite a while after the armistice. To understand the setting of the photograph, and of this “annual dinner,” of the Beaverkill Trout Club, one had to recall that
“There
were still three
million and a half
Americans in the
military service,
over two million
of them in Europe.
Uniforms were everywhere.
Even after the
tumult and shouting
of November 11
had
died, the Expeditionary
Forces were still
in the trenches,
making ready for
the long, cautious
march into Germany;
civilians
were still saving
sugar and eating
strange dark breads
and saving coal;
it was not until
ten days had passed
that the ‘lightless
edict’ of
the Fuel Administration
was withdrawn,
and
Broadway . .
. blazed
once more; the
railroads
were still operated
by the government,
and one bought
one’s
tickets at the
United States
Railroad Administration
Consolidated
Ticket Offices;
the influenza
epidemic, which
had taken more
American lives
than the Germans,
and had caused
thousands of
men and women
to go about
fearfully
with white masks
over their faces,
was only just
abating; the
newspapers were
packed with
reports from
the armies in
Europe, news
of the revolution
in Germany,
of Mr. Wilson’s
peace preparations,
of the United
War
Work Campaign,
to the exclusion
of almost everything
else; and day
after day, week
after week,
month after
month, the casualty
lists went on
.
. . . 2 ” |
In
March 1919 the first post-war
bull market for common
stocks was underway, soon
to result in unprecedented “million share days” on the New York Stock Exchange. People were starting to get used to the idea of Prohibition of alcoholic beverages, which would commence in July and eventually lead to massive civil disobedience disruptive of many institutions. Walking in Manhattan on a typical day in March 1919 might require
“a
roundabout way, for
a regiment of soldiers
just returned from
Europe is on parade
and the central thoroughfares
of the city are blocked
with crowds. It is
a great season for
parades, this spring
of 1919. As the transports
from Brest swing
up New York Harbor,
the men packed solid
on the decks are
greeted
by Mayor Hylan’s
Committee of Welcome.
* * * [Fifth] Avenue
is hung with Flags
from end to end;
and as the Twenty-seventh
Division parades
under the arches
the air is white
with ticker tape
and the sidewalks
are jammed with
cheering crowds.
* * * Not yet disillusioned,
the nation welcomes
its heroes --- and
the heroes only
wish the fuss were
all over and they
could get into civilian
clothes and sleep
late in the mornings
and do what they
please, and try
to forget. 3 ” |
With
these recollections of
what was going on in March
1919 in mind, we can understand
a bit more about the photograph
and the men in it. The
room itself is fixed up
with patriotic adornments
to welcome the steady
stream of troops returning
from Europe through the
port of New York: presumably
there were many festive
dinners greeting the officers
and permitting them to
make their farewells and
take their leaves of the
City and of each other.
Peace is taking hold,
wartime shortages of all
sorts of things (like
latex and rubber, from
which fishing waders then
were made; and steel wire
stock, from which fishing
hooks are fashioned) are
coming to end, profits
are being made, and it
is time, once again, to
be able to pursue hobby
and sport without feeling
guilt over war-time idleness.
Maybe
in part it is imagination
at work, but it seems
to me that these men look
ready to go fishing with
a renewed sense of fun
and vigor.
I
have spent a little time
trying to put names on
these faces looking out
from the past, with partial
success, most of it by
comparison of the 1919
group photograph with
a series of 40 photographs
taken by William Arnold
Bradley from 1898 to
1916. Bradley, who was
the corporate Secretary
and Treasurer of the
Club from 1910 to at least
1929, pasted his 40 photos
into a booklet, which
he printed privately,
entitled “Fly-Fishing
Reminiscences of My
Early Years at the Beaverkill
Trout Club,” and
introduced with a short
monograph describing
some of his Beaverkill
fishing friends and
adventures. He apparently
made up fifty copies
of the edition, laboriously
labeling each photograph
in his distinctive
handwriting, some 2,000
entries, a true labor
of love 4 .
Bradley
in the photograph is seated
at the far right with
his back to the wall.
I do not yet know what
he did for a living, or
when his life ended, but
in his monograph he indicates
Charlie Campbell introduced
him to the Club in about
1907. In his own words,
“Charlie
was a member of
the Beaverkill Fishing
Association with
headquarters at
the ‘Voorhess
Homestead.’ We
rode over from Livingston
Manor with Alex
Voorhess in the ‘covered
wagon,’ a
matter of two hours,
more or less.
“Very
soon after my first
visit, I helped
to organize the
present Beaverkill
Trout Club which
absorbed the Beaverkill
Fishing Association;
both memberships
being merged into
one club of which
I became Secretary
and Treasurer.
5 ”
|
His
monograph sets forth,
with a nice, diplomatic
precision, a number of
claims concerning his
own and his fellow members’ development and introduction of modern methods of trout fishing which are of considerable interest to those who love the subject. Again, in his own words:
“While
giving close study
to the varied methods
employed by the leading
anglers at the Club,
I read much literature
on the subject of
stream fly fishing
in England and Scotland,
and my youth perhaps,
coupled with an inquisitive
mind, led me very
early to blaze my
own trail respecting
tackle and methods
of stream angling.
I adopted light tackle,
fine gut and small
wet flies imported
from Scotland and
with short casts
practiced ‘drifting’ my
flies over likely
places and to rising
trout. * * * The
results I obtained
fishing ‘wet’ encouraged
me to experiment
with the ‘dry
fly’ and
if my memory serves
I was the first
to introduce ‘dry
fly’ fishing
at the Club,
a method now
employed by
practically all
its members. 6 ” |
Indeed,
and if Bradley’s memory serves as he says, his development and introduction of the dry-fly technique to the Club was a signal achievement. I should mention I have not yet heard his claim seconded by any other source.
On
Bradley’s
right, dressed in a
very Nineteenth-Century
fashion, sits George
M. L. LaBranche (1875–1961),
who founded the eponymous
New York Stock Exchange
specialist firm which
is today run by his
great-grandson, George
M. L. LaBranche IV.
No doubt one thing on
his mind at the dinner
besides fishing chitchat
is whether his firm’s
capital will be adequate
to ensure an orderly
market in the listed
shares for which he
is responsible given
the ever-increasing
volume
of the emerging peacetime
bull market. Unlike
Bradley, LaBranche
even then was a recognized
expert in fly fishing,
and particularly in
the dry-fly technique,
which he says he started
to employ in 1899. Having
taken the precaution
of writing published
books and articles
on
the subject, and having
been written about
by
others, LaBranche was
well known to the public
by 1919 as a “presentationist,” rather
than an “imitationist.
7 ”
Up
the table in positions
fifth and sixth counting
from LaBranche are two
brothers, Gail (with
moustache) and Lewis M.
(without moustache) Borden,
whose family owned the
large dairy and chemical
enterprises of that name.
Lewis Borden was not
only a founding member
but a fine angler who
had first gone to the
Beaverkill at a time when “ .
. . the club only owned
its name and a large wooden
sign, inscribed on which
was the name of the Club’s
predecessor, ‘The
Beaverkill Fishing Association,’ from
whom it was inherited.
“The
roads from the Manor
to the Club were
hub deep in mud
in the spring and
none too good in
the summer, and
horse drawn conveyances
were the sole mode
of transportation,
consuming anywhere
from two to two
and one-half hours
to make the trip
one way. Sometimes
the roads were so
bad that one or
more occupants were
required to get
out and walk up
steep hills out
of sympathy for
an overwrought and
underfed team.
“Mr.
Alex and Mrs. Voorhess,
the latter of whom
died early this
year [apparently
1927], ran the
boarding part of
the club and furnished
the transportation.
The club was but
a part of the visiting
fishermen, there
being ‘those
boarders,’ as
the club disdainfully
termed them and
of whom I was
fortunately one.
I speak feelingly
when I say ‘fortunately
one’ because
my being a
boarder was
the means of
my introduction
followed by
my election
to membership
in the great
fraternity
of good fellowship
of men in pursuit
of a pastime
of which there
is none finer,
more healthful
or more interesting
or where fellow
or yellow is
more quickly
developed or
as quickly
discerned. 8 ”
|
An
obvious enthusiast of
sorts based on his somewhat
disjointed description,
Lewis Borden also was
a man of means who was
prepared to put his wallet
where he found his fellowship.
Charlie Campbell names
Lewis Borden, together
with George C. Mercer,
as one of the two “angels” who provided the funds necessary to acquire the farm properties and leases which comprised a large portion of the fishing assets so valued by the Club members for many generations. Not mentioned by Campbell was the fact that Lewis Borden had acquired in 1925, but for his personal use, the farm property owned by Llewellyn Jersey, the so-called “Jersey Farm,” across which flows the “Jersey Brook,” a small tributary of the Beaverkill. Lewis Borden or his estate sold the property to Burr Sherwood, a member, who sold it to Samuel W. Croll, a member, who bequeathed or sold it to Samuel W. Croll, Jr., still a member of the Club, who sold the stream portion of the property to the Club in the early 1990s.
Up
at the far end of the
table, in position fifth
counting from Lewis Borden,
is George C. Mercer (1855-1929),
a well-liked member referred
to as “Uncle
George of Hackensack,” who
emigrated as a young
man from Scotland and
founded a successful
textile bleachery business
in Lodi, New Jersey,
with offices in Manhattan
9 . Bradley labeled
his photograph of Mercer
as “Uncle
George of Hackensack,
Inimitable upstream
wet-fly fisher” and
in his monograph
mentioned
that when he first
went up to the Beaverkill “No
one seemed to know
why George Mercer
fishing ‘wet’ upstream
caught trout all
summer
in low clear water,” a
true compliment
from
one fly caster
to another. Campbell
was even more effusive.
In his 1927 essay,
after describing
his early years
on the
Beaverkill learning
the lore of the
Beaverkill
from “Uncle
George” Curtis,
eventually a
New York Supreme
Court Justice
in Binghamton,
New York, he
waxed on about
the early days:
“Among
this goodly company
I also found our
other Uncle George;
that canny Scot
who has marked
every rock and rippling
rill from the Docking
to the head of
the Dugway. I cannot
say anything ‘aboot’ him,
because he lives
to deny it. I
hope a merciful
Providence will
spare him to us
a great many years,
for his heart
grows younger with
each passing year,
and this he cannot
deny 10 .
|
Campbell
also made clear that Mercer
was another who was prepared,
like Borden, to open his
pocketbook in aid of fellowship
of this “goodly
company”:
“With
the increasing
popularity of trout
fishing, places
on the Beaverkill
were bought up
by men of means
and good judgment,
and
it became apparent
that if our group
wished to preserve
its privileges,
we must organize
on a more business-like
basis. Accordingly,
in March 1910,
the Beaverkill Trout
Club was incorporated
and leases were
obtained wherever
possible. Still
later, it became
necessary to buy
certain farms in
order to retain
the fishing, and
George Mercer and
Lew Borden formed
the Catskill Trout
Club as a holding
company and bought
the Tidd, Hardy,
Davidson, and Sprague
farms. After some
lapse of time,
we felt we should
no longer let these
two “angels” carry
the burdens of
the Beaverkill
Club. The Beaverkill
Holding Corporation
was then formed
and purchased
all four of the
farms from the
Catskill Trout
Club, and took
over leases of
fishing rights,
and of the Voorhess
Homestead and
Clubhouse. 11 ”
|
For
some reason, Campbell
did not mention in this
1927 context what was
perhaps the most significant
of all of Mercer’s contributions to the Club: that he purchased the Voorhess Farm shortly after the 1919 dinner, and conveyed it in 1921 to a family corporation, Mercer Homestead, Inc. Ever since, the Mercer Homestead leased that part of the former Voorhess Farm pertaining to the stream, including the farmhouse and the clubhouse, to the Beaverkill Trout Club. That lease, of course, as renewed from time to time over many years, has been and is today the keystone of the Club, as is the very cordial relationship of the Club to the Mercer family, the descendants of “Uncle
George of Hackensack.”
Down the table in positions second and third counting from Mercer, are two obvious brothers (are they twins?), William L. Willich, a founding member of the Club and its President from 1923 to 1928, and Theodore “Theo” Willich. I believe Theo also was President of the Club at some point, but need to get further into the Club records to iron out such detail. I cannot tell from the group photo which Willich is which Willich (an exercise in consonance and alliteration, for sure!), but they are, aside from being important in the history of the Club and of fly fishing, the members of the family who acquired in about 1918 the farm properties which today extend on the northern bank of the Beaverkill from the twin bridges down to the truss bridge and up the mountain to the end of Ragin Road. I believe that all of the property remains in the hands of one or more of these two members’ descendants.
The
next person down the table
from the Willich brothers
is Dr. William H. Sharpless,
an early member of the
Club whose photograph
appears in Bradley’s booklet above his handwritten description, “Dry-fly Specialist.” There is a undoubtedly a great deal more to learn about him, which I intend to do in part by speaking with his descendants who still populate the Beaverkill Valley, one of whom I know to be none other than his namesake and, I believe, his grandson, Bill Sharpless.
Last,
but not least of the
faces on the 1919 Annual
Dinner photograph I have
identified, is Charles
J. Campbell, seated down
from Dr. Sharpless just
behind the first man
in the row. Campbell was
a Manhattan lawyer who
seems to have had a long
and successful practice,
which included at least
one case involving copyright
infringement he argued
successfully for the
composer Victor Herbert
before the Supreme Court
of the United States,
leading to a decision
by none other than Oliver
Wendell Holmes 12 .
It
has already been mentioned
that Campbell played perhaps
one of the leading roles
in putting the Club into
an organized form in which
it has managed to continue
in corporate existence,
despite more than a few
trials and tribulations,
for almost a century.
He was the president of
the Club from 1910 to
1923. Bradley inscribed
his photos of Campbell
with the accolade “Wizard with the trout fly.” There is a well-known wet-fly pattern named after him, “Campbell’s Fancy.” Obviously, and however good he was in the art of fishing, he was also an artist in getting along and putting things together.
There
is much to be learned
about him and the Club
from his life, but one
of the most interesting
stories concerns the Davidson
Farm property and the
Kaplan family and its
holdings in and around
Lew Beach.
On
March 29, 1919, the date
we see Charlie Campbell
looking out at us from
the Third Annual Dinner
of the Beaverkill Trout
Club, a long negotiation
with the heirs of George
Davidson for the sale
of the Davidson family
farm to the Catskill Trout
Club for the then large
sum of $10,000 was at
last coming to fruition.
Thus, in addition to appearing
in the photograph ready
to go fishing without
remorse or guilt after
the conclusion of the “Great War,” I believe Charlie Campbell was looking forward to the conclusion of this acquisition, a matter of extreme importance to the Club of which he was then President. In fact, the deeds and mortgages completing the sale were signed, sealed and delivered three days later, on April 1, 1919, with Campbell and Lewis M. Borden signing for the Catskill Trout Club (which then conveyed the Davidson farm, along with the Hardy, Sprague and Tidd farms, to the Beaverkill Holding Corporation in 1923).
That
the Davidson Farm acquisition
was completed on the opening
day of the fishing season
was both symbolic and
auspicious, because the
whole purpose of the purchase
was to acquire stream-fishing
rights for the Beaverkill
Trout Club members. In
fact, the Club immediately
leased the Davidson farm
back to the Davidson family
for farming purposes,
excepting from the lease
only “the bed of the Beaverkill Stream and fifty feet from high water mark on either side of the said stream” (italics added), because that portion of the farm was going to be used for fishing, not farming. The exception from the lease just quoted shows that the Club thought it owned both banks of the stream, and thus had acquired exclusive rights of fishing in that portion of the Beaverkill running, so it was thought, through the farm.
Unknown
to the Club, however,
Samuel and Lazare Kaplan
had a deed that conflicted
with the deed given by
the Davidson family. The
Kaplans acquired their
parcel in 1919, ironically
from Alex and Effie Voorhees,
who still managed the
Club; and the deed they
gave the Kaplans also
purported to convey the
bed and both banks of
the stream adjoining the
Davidson Farm. Which conveyance,
which deed, was valid?
There
is a complicated and simple
way to tell the story
of what happened after
that, but for present
purposes, the simpler
version is the better.
The issue of the conflicting
deeds and, more important,
who rightfully owned the
streambed and banks, and
most important of all,
who owned the fishing
rights, was tried in the
Supreme Court in Monticello
to a jury just before
Christmas 1925, and the
jury found for the Kaplans.
The Club started the process
of taking an appeal, and
also had some long and
not particularly friendly
discussions with the Davidson
family about that fact
that a jury had found
they had sold something
they did not completely
own as warranted by their
deed. So much the written
records show.
Several
Club members, who were
old enough to have heard
the story from actual
witnesses to the event,
consistently told the
next part of this story
to me on several occasions.
On
the opening day of the
Club in April 1926, with
the adverse result of
the trial well known to
the members, there were
a lot of very long faces
in the Clubhouse, and
a lot of pining away that
the Davidson water, containing
some of the Club’s most popular fishing pools, was no longer available for fishing. At that point, a man drove up, walked into the Clubhouse, introduced himself as Lazare Kaplan, and said, “Look, boys, now that I’ve proven my point, I want you to know that you can fish my water any time you want, and to help you get over any hard feelings about this, I brought down a case of whiskey.” To say the least, this news was greeted with universal approbation by the members, especially since most people by then had gotten over the notion that Prohibition was good for the nation.
The
result was that the Club
dropped the appeal, did
not pursue the Davidson
family over the value
of the deed they had given
the Club, and its members
have fished the Davidson
water ever since. Lazare
Kaplan’s generous gesture was so appreciated that the Club wanted to reciprocate, and this took the form of a resolution to permit Lazare and his sons, George and Leo, to fish the Club’s waters, and use the Club’s facilities, any time they wished, and they did so from time to time over the years.
I
never met Lazare Kaplan,
but by all accounts he
was a very colorful, vibrant
and honorable man who
had quite a reputation
as a diamond dealer and
cutter. Leo I came to
know fairly well from
meeting and talking on
the stream and when he
would drop by the Clubhouse.
I liked him, and was upset
when he died at a fairly
young age. George I met
at the Clubhouse a few
times, and did not know
well until much later.
Lazare
lived to be a centenarian,
but after he passed away
a few years ago, George
Kaplan and Rusty Husted,
then Chairman of the Club’s Real Estate Committee, started to discuss an agreement which would close this old real property controversy and make formal the amicable arrangement that had effectively but informally ended it in 1926. This we finally worked out by what was of necessity a fairly complicated agreement involving an exchange of lands and promises.
One
day George called me
in my office to go over
some changes he thought
would help the resolution
we all desired. At some point I asked George if he had ever heard the story about his father and the case of whiskey, and he said he had not.
I
then related the story
to him and he laughed,
saying that his father
was a good man, and a
good father in his way,
but that you could not
appreciate him until you
realized that he never
believed he was wrong
about anything in his
whole life. I told George
that I had not met his
father nor lived as long
as he had, but that I
had lived long enough
to know that no one was
right all the time, but
that his father surely
proved right about his
deed and did the right
thing as well with the
Club on a cold and rainy
day in April of 1926.
We signed up the agreement
a few weeks later.
Footnotes:
1.
According
to Club records, The
Beaverkill
Trout Club, Inc. was
first
incorporated in 1910
along
with the Beaverkill
Holding
Corporation, which was
owned by the Club members
and served as the vehicle
for the Club’s land
and
lease holdings. The
corporate
entities, however, continued
the fishing and conservation
activities of the Beaverkill
Association, later
called
the Beaverkill Fishing
Association, started
by Royal Voorhess, owner
of
the Voorhess Farm, and
several of his regular
boarders,
which first filed as
a society for that purpose
in 1875. Van Put, Edward,
The Beaverkill: The
History
of a River and Its People
(Lyons & Burford,
New York, 1996),
pp. 78-79 back
2)
Allen,
Frederick Lewis, Only
Yesterday (Harper & Brothers,
New York, 1931; Bantam
Edition, 1959), pp.
12-13. back
4)
Mac
Francis’ book puts the
number of copies
at twenty-five. Francis,
Austin McK., Land of
Little Rivers: A Story
in Photos of Catskill
Fly Fishing (The Beaverkill
Press, distributed by
W.W. Norton & Company,
New York, 1999), p.
269. A letter in my
possession from Bradley
to “John” dated March
12, 1930, however, states
“The book was
printed last Spring
[sic] but its completion
was delayed because
I found that the pasting
and inscribing of more
than 2000 prints was
more of a job than I
had anticipated.” That
statement, taking
into account that each
booklet had forty photographs
and lists forty-three
members of the Club,
suggests that he made
up fifty copies. I have
inspected four of the
Bradley booklets
personally: one lent
by Steve Lott, handed
down from his grandfather
Leonard Q. Quackenbush,
an early
member of the Club;
one lent by Roger Lynker,
handed down from his
great-grandfather Willich,
a founding member of
the Club and its President
from 1923 to 1928; and
two copies found
in the Club’s safe.
Bradley’s monograph
in the booklet first
was presented in a 48-page
book, Constitution
and By-laws and List
of Members of the Beaverkill
Trout Club and Beaverkill
Holding Corporation
Incorporated, March
1910 (privately printed,
Harbor Press, New York,
1927), pp. 40-43, which
included a number of
essays of “reminiscences”
of members. back
5)
Constitution
and By-laws, op. cit.,
p. 40. back
7) Ed
Van Put’s book devotes
four pages of text and
two photographs to LaBranche,
op. cit., pp. 175-178.
The imitationist tries
first to “match the hatch”
with his selection of
a fly to tie on to his
tippet; the presentationist
uses only a relatively
few types of flies, believing
that the perfection of
the cast without subsequent
“drag” across the surface,
the “presentation,” is
the sine qua non. Van
Parr, from what he told
me, see Chapter I, obviously
tended toward LaBranchian
presentationism, although
I do not recall his ever
mentioning LaBranche. back
9) Hackensack,
N.J., Bergen Evening Record
issue of Monday, 16 September
1929, p. 2, col. 3. back
10) Constitution
and By-laws, op. cit.,
p. 27. back
12) Herbert
v. Hanley, 242 U.S. 591
(1917) back
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