Friday, May 1, 2009 10:42 AM CDT
USA's Yesterdays: Henry Wheeler Shaw: Otherwise known as 'Josh Billings'
By Hal Malehorn
During the latter decades of the 19th-century, several pseudonymous authors kept their fellow-Americans entertained with witty observations upon the human condition.
Collectively, in those days long before television sit-coms — and even before comic books or “funny papers” — these writers’ humorous insights found a ready readership, and left millions of their countrymen laughing.
Best known of these, of course, was Samuel Clemens, who masqueraded as “Mark Twain.” He was joined in the rib-tickler trade by Charles Farrar Browne, posing as “Artemus Ward.” Their ranks also included David Ross Locke, whose insights were delivered by “Petroleum V. Nasby.” And then there was Henry Wheeler Shaw, whose alter ego paraded in print as “Josh Billings.”
Shaw was born April 21, 1818, in Lanesboro, in western Massachusetts. His father was active in politics. Young Henry attended local schools, and at age 15 entered Hamilton College. There his climbing a lightning rod and removing the clapper from the chapel bell led to his expulsion during his sophomore year.
Intending to explore America’s opening West, Shaw spent the next several years roaming the Midwest, which is as far as his funds carried him. To raise money, he joined two other adventuresome companions in producing an itinerant public lecture on mesmerism. Success at this venture prompted Shaw to invent a comedic presentation titled “Milk,” during which he managed to say absolutely nothing at all about the announced subject.
Tiring of that enterprise, Shaw returned to Lanesboro, where he married his childhood sweetheart and took up farming. But the settled life soon palled for the pair, and they were off to the Midwest (where Shaw farmed); then to Virginia (where he opened a coal mine); then to Pittsburgh (where he bought a steamboat); and finally to Poughkeepsie, N.Y. (where the Shaw children would be educated).
At long last settling down, Shaw became a leading light of that upstate city, selling real estate, auctioneering, serving on the city council, planning community events and, in 1859, organizing a local baseball club.
But a staid civic life was not for him. To while away the hours when business was slow, Shaw began writing humorous sketches and sending them, under the pen name of Efrem Billings (“Josh” would come later), for publication to a regional newspaper. These pieces were penned in “down home” dialect, with some words spelled phonetically to suggest an unschooled scribe (“An Essa on the Muel” was one of his first).
In 1865 Shaw published a collection of his witty remarks as “Josh Billings, Hiz Sayings,” a book that was well received by the reading public. On the promise of continued success of his chosen genre, Shaw moved his family to New York City. There he became a columnist for the “New York Weekly,” where his contributions included aphorisms, essays, sketches, narratives and travel accounts.
Shaw was a gregarious soul, and among his notable acquaintances were Mark Twain, James Whitcombe Riley, David Ross Locke and William Cullen Bryant.
Shaw’s writings appeared in several forms, one of which was the “affurism” (aphorism), a statement pithy, but wise. Among his thousands were: “Lov looks thru a telescope; envy, thru a microscope.” “Laffter is feelin’ good all over and showin’ it in jist wun place;” “Honesti iz the most rare welth; but it won’t buy a loaf ov bred;” “Kommon sense is instinkt; and enuf of it iz jeenius,” and the familiar, “The wheel that squeeks the loudest gits the greese.”
Nothing lay beyond his commentary: virtues, vices, love, literature, religion, marriage, music, fashion, customs, animals, feminism — and humor. “Most enybody kin write poor sense; but there aint but a few that kin write good nonsense” was his creed. Generally an optimist in tone, he also believed “We must play what cards is delt us, and the glory consists, not so mutch in winnin as in playin a poor hand well.”
And he was similarly kind to critics and contributors. To one would-be poet who submitted a verse with irregular meter, he wrote, “I notis one ov yure lines has ten feet in it, and the next one has only nine feet, six inches.”
While other humorists of the age indulged in long narratives, Shaw specialized, at first, in shorter pieces. Exceptions to this generalization were a spoof on the Victorian Americans’ yen to travel abroad (“Silvester Muggins Haz Gon Tew Yewrupp”); and a burlesque on the theater (“A Tablow in 4 Acks”).
Branching out even more, Shaw undertook to capitalize upon the public interest in “jest books.” These were booklet-size compilations of jokes, epigrams and puns, with the contents often enhanced by misspellings, contorted grammar and exaggerations.
Examples of Shaw’s works were “Josh Billings’ Trump Kards,” a collection of one-page essays and sketches, “Josh Billings’ Spice Box,” and “Josh Billings’ Cook Book and Picktorial Proverbs.”
However, perhaps the best-known (and best-selling) of Shaw’s works were his “Josh Billings’ Allminax,” which appeared annually between 1869 and 1879. These featured a potpourri of forecasts (“Loomings”), “advice” on farming, astrological “data” — all interspersed with poems, jingles, epigrams and puzzles.
Appropriately, Shaw presented unique signs of the zodiac, among them (each with a unique “Latin” name), the Ruester (“Struttiae”), the Kodfish (“Saltio”) and the Anglewerm (“Crawlius”).
In America’s post-bellum years, Shaw also undertook (again) the lyceum circuit, which by then had become a popular form of public entertainment. These Redpath Bureau trips took him around the East, across the Midwest and all the way to the Pacific.
During each presentation Shaw delighted listeners on announced subjects such as “Specimen Bricks,” “The Pensive Cockroach” and “What I Know About Hotels.” Similar to his earlier pontification on “Milk,” however, each lecture ranged far and wide, treating every topic under the sun (and moon).
Tall, stoop-shouldered, long-haired, with a shaggy beard, and clad in ill-fitting garb, Shaw, the droll presenter, was the picture of comedy.
All too soon, however, the fun had to end. Shaw’s health failed in 1884, and he died Oct. 14, 1885, unexpectedly, of a stroke.
Long before then Shaw had summarized his life of laughter: “This iz what I kall glory on the haff shell — jist like childhood’s molassis kandy.”
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