No. 177- Norwich
              
Running a close second to the Mary Powell for its fame on the Hudson river comes the old Norwich, known to followers of the river’s history as the “Ice King.”
              
The wooden hull of the Norwich was built by Lawrence & Sneden at New York in 1836, and her engine was the product of Hall & Cunningham of New York. From stern to stern the Norwich measured 160 feet; her breadth of beam was 25 feet five inches; depth of hold five feet nine inches; gross tonnage 255; net tonnage 127. Her engine was of the crosshead variety with a cylinder diameter of 40 inches with a 10 foot stroke, and she carried one boiler in her hold.
               
The Norwich was built for the New York & Norwich Steamboat Company and ran on Long Island Sound for a number of years after she was launched.
              
The year 1843 marked the appearance of the Norwich on the Hudson river- in service between Rondout and New York as a passenger and freight carrier; and about 1850 Thomas Cornell purchased the steamboat and converted her to a towboat.
              
It was about the middle of the nineteenth century  that the Norwich began a procedure which was to gain for her the title of “Ice King”- a title which was never disputed! Her construction was such that heavy river ice usually broke before her onslaught, and in the early spring and late fall the Norwich was a familiar figure breaking ice along the river.
              
The bow of the Norwich was so constructed that she could run upon and break down heavy ice fields, and the bottom of the steamboat was well protected with copper and steel. Her paddle wheels were fashioned out of live oak and iron, and her commander, Captain Jacob DuBois often said that, “She could run through a stone yard without damaging herself.”
              
The spectacle of the Norwich battling heavy ice was always interesting to watch, and occasionally when endeavoring to break down large mounds of ice, the staunch vessel was turned over on her side. At such time prompt action was necessary by the crew in the shifting of chain boxes and weighty ballast to right the vessel. The wheels of the Norwich were so placed that one of them could be detached quickly- and thus the tilting of the steamboat was of little importance. It is safe to assume that the Norwich saved many thousands of dollars of damage by her successful attempts at breaking up the ice in the river and thus preventing floods and serious jams.
              
Frequently the Norwich was called upon to rescue vessels caught in the ice on Long Island Sound, and in the year 1851 she fought what was perhaps her greatest battle with the ice. The steamboat New Haven was caught in the ice, and the Norwich went to her aid. Rows of ice so high that the stranded New Haven could not be seen from the pilot house of the Norwich was finally crushed down by the old “Ice King,” and the Sound vessel was released from its perilous position.
              
Usually the first vessel on the river in the spring and the last to tie up in the winter, the Norwich was also a conspicuous figure in the steamboat parade in New York harbor on September 25, 1909. On two occasions the Norwich was almost destroyed by fire, (December 16, 1906 and August 30, 1909) and both times she was rebuilt and placed in service.
              
Many of the well-known figures in Hudson river history were connected with the Norwich at one time or another, including Captain George B. Gage, Captain Stephen Van Wart, Captain Jeremiah Patteson, Captain Delzell, Captain Harry Barber, Captain James Welsh, and Captain Jacob DuBois.
              
​The Norwich continued her career on the Hudson river until 1921 when she was deemed of no further use and was tied up at Port Ewen. In November 1923 the Cornell Steamboat Company sold the Norwich to Michael Tucker of Port Ewen, who broke her up for scrap. Today the fame of the Norwich is constantly recalled through stories passed from one individual to another, and visitors to the Senate House in Kingston are reminded of the old “Ice King” when they view the bell of the Norwich which is displayed in the local museum.

In the early days of automobiles, speed demons were not content with ice yachts, and tried their luck on the frozen Hudson with autos instead.

On January 28, 1912, Robert E. Hopkins drove his automobile from Tarrytown to the Tarrytown Lighthouse (today known as the Sleepy Hollow Lighthouse). This was before General Motors filled in all but 100 feet of water to the lighthouse, so this was quite the distance. According to the New York Times, "The feat had never been attempted before." Robert E. Hopkins was the son of Robert E. Hopkins, Sr., who had supposedly "made millions in oil." Hopkins wasn't alone on the ice that day - plenty of people were out skating, on horseback, and even in automobiles, but most stuck close to shore, where the ice was more reliable. 

Just a few days later, on February 3, 1912, Fred Koenig in his Mercedes and raced against M.R. Beltzhoover's Mercer in a 25 mile route on the ice off of Tarrytown. Koenig won that race by two laps, but Beltzhoover won the three mile straightaway race from the Tarrytown lighthouse to the Tarrytown Boat Club docks. Other auto races also gave speed exhibitions, and Beltzhoover got his Mercer up to 75 mph. 

The ice was "in fine condition," so arrangements were made "for a bit automobile meet next week." 

Despite these recreational activities closer to shore, the main shipping channel was still open - being kept clear by icebreaking tugs. 

Today is Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, and to celebrate his contributions to the Civil Rights movement, we thought we would share some information about an earlier Civil Rights and labor rights activist, Paul Robeson. 

Born in 1898 in Princeton, New Jersey, Robeson was most famous for his role in "Show Boat," which he first played the role of "Joe" on Broadway in the 1920s, and later in the 1936 film version, in which he sings, "Ol' Man River."

But Robeson was not cast as Joe in the 1951 film version of "Show Boat," because he was blacklisted by Hollywood and later investigated by the House Committee on Un-American Activities (HUAC) for his political beliefs and his outspoken advocacy of labor rights and Civil Rights. You can learn more about Paul Robeson's life in this short documentary: 

So what's the connection to the Hudson River Valley? In 1949 Paul Robeson was one of several performers invited to participate in a concert to benefit the Civil Rights Congress. The concert was to take place on August 27, 1949, just north of Peekskill, NY. Robeson had performed in Peekskill at least three times before. But 1949 was different. 

Robeson had begun to be more vocal about his beliefs and advocating for Civil Rights and labor rights and against the Ku Klux Klan, colonialism, racism, and capitalism. In March of 1949, Robeson had attended the World Peace Conference in Paris - an international event sponsored by the Soviet Union. While at the conference, Robeson gave a speech about the tenuous US/USSR relationship. What he actually said, and what was reported in the American media, were two very different things. 

He said: 

"We in America do not forget that it was the backs of white workers from Europe and on the backs of millions of blacks that the wealth of America was built. And we are resolved to share it equally. We reject any hysterical raving that urges us to make war on anyone. Our will to fight for peace is strong...We shall support peace and friendship among all nations, with Soviet Russia and the People's Republics."

But the Associated Press quoted him as saying:

"We colonial peoples have contributed to the building of the United States and are determined to share its wealth. We denounce the policy of the United States government which is similar to Hitler and Goebbels.... It is unthinkable that American Negros would go to war on behalf of those who have oppressed us for generations against the Soviet Union which in one generation has lifted our people to full human dignity."

The inflammatory quote falsely attributed to Robeson later turned out to be submitted before Robeson was even finished speaking. This report led Robeson to be widely condemned throughout the United States as "un-American," and the Peekskill Evening Star encouraged people to boycott the concert due to Robeson's participation. 

The day of the concert, hundreds of locals, including the American Legion and members of the Ku Klux Klan, attacked concert-goers with rocks and baseball bats. It took hours for the police to arrive, and when they finally did, they took little action. Robeson was lynched in effigy and eleven people were injured. A cross was burned nearby and visible from the concert grounds. The attacks began before Robeson arrived, and when a friend drove him to the concert, he had to be restrained from confronting the rioters. The concert was postponed until September, 4, 1949 - Labor Day. 

Local officials, including police, failed to take responsibility for the violence. Applications for the local KKK chapter actually increased after the riot. Labor unions and local supporters of Robeson organized protests of the riot and gathered hundreds of union members to help guard the rescheduled concert.

On the day of the second concert, locals, including members of the VFW and American Legion as well as (presumably) KKK members gathered to protest - shouting epithets at concert-goers and accusing them of communism as they arrived.

20,000 people attended the concert on September 4, which had many other performers, including Pete Seeger. Robeson closed out the concert with his most famous song, "Ol' Man River." 

Although the September 4, 1949 concert was held without violence, as the concert-goers tried to leave, their cars had to crawl past a gauntlet of rioters, who threw rocks, broke windshields, windows, and headlights, and screamed obscenities. Law enforcement largely stood by and watched the violence.

Pete Seeger, Woody Guthrie, and Lee Hays, who had also been scheduled to perform, shared a car with Pete's wife Toshi and their children. Woody Guthrie pinned up a shirt (red, of course) to the window to prevent shattered glass from injuring the children. Pete saved several rocks that made their way into the car and cemented them into the chimney of the house he and Toshi later built in Beacon. 

This period footage illustrates some of the protests and the violence following the concert and includes commentary from Pete Seeger. Please note, racial epithets are used in this period film footage. ​

Over 140 people were injured, either from broken glass and projectiles hurled at their vehicles, or they were pulled from their vehicles and beaten. Among those injured was Eugene Bullard, America's first Black combat pilot and a veteran of World War I. He was viciously beaten, including by members of state and local law enforcement. The attack was captured on film and in photographs, but no one was ever arrested or prosecuted for the assault.

On September 7, 1949, just days after the riots, a group of musicians and songwriters put together a hastily recorded record - The Peekskill Story. Narrated by Howard Fast and sung by the Weavers (including Lee Hays and Pete Seeger), the album was a mix of music and spoken word report of the organization of the two concerts that both ended in riots. It included a snippet of Paul Robeson singing "Ol' Man River" at the concert, as well as a recording of some of the epithets the rioters were yelling at concert-goers. You can listen to the full album below, or learn more about it here. 

​The Peekskill Riots remain a stark illustration of anti-communist rhetoric in the years leading up to McCarthyism and the Red Scare. Despite protests following the riots, including a large one in Albany protesting to Governor Thomas Dewey about the inaction and possible participation of law enforcement in the riots, Dewey and others blamed the violence on communists. Many of the concert performers, including Pete Seeger, Lee Hays, Woody Guthrie, and Paul Robeson, were blacklisted. In the 1950s, Seeger and Robeson were both called before the House Committee on Un-American Activities (HUAC) and accused of communism. You can listen to Robeson's testimony below:

As a Black man with connections to the Soviet Union, Robeson bore the consequences of blacklisting with more difficulty than Guthrie and Seeger. Even former allies at the NAACP, including Jackie Robinson and Eleanor Roosevelt, spoke out against him, fearful that association with communism would hurt the movement. In retaliation for his beliefs, many of the organizations and institutions which had previously lauded his accomplishments, erased him from their records. 

Robeson's career never recovered. Following the end of McCarthyism in 1957, he launched a brief comeback tour, traveling and performing for several years before his mental health deteriorated, as depression and paranoia set in. He had never stopped speaking out for marginalized peoples around the world. But in 1963, he officially retired and went into relative seclusion, making few public appearances. Soon, his physical health began to deteriorate as well. He died on January 23, 1976 from complications of pneumonia at age 77. 

Robeson and the Peekskill Riots were the subject of many documentaries following Robeson's death, including The Tallest Tree in Our Forest (1977), Paul Robeson: Tribute to an Artist (1979) and Paul Robeson: Here I Stand​ (1999). 

Despite all the difficulties he faced for his beliefs, Robeson remains a giant among Civil Rights advocates around the world. His personal accomplishments and his unwavering commitment to justice, regardless of the costs, are worth remembering. 

We have been posting a lot about ice and winter sports here on the History Blog, so it's only apt that our first Featured Artifact is this beautiful piece of ephemera [paper items meant to be thrown away] from the Ray Ruge Collection. Ray was instrumental in reviving the Hudson River Ice Yacht Club in the 1960s and was an avid ice boater. His widow donated his large collection of ice boating history, photographs, ephemera, correspondence, and more to the museum. You'll be seeing more of Ray and his collection in the coming weeks.

This issue of Harper's Weekly (coincidentally ALSO from January 16, although in 1869, rather than 2021) featured "Ice-Boats on the Hudson" on the cover. Harper's Weekly: A Journal of Civilization was a national weekly political magazine published out of New York City between 1857 and 1916. Often beautifully illustrated with lithographs based on photographs, Harper's Weekly chronicled daily life, and many of its illustrations grace the museum's walls. 

The original article, transcribed:

"The ice-yacht is a boat on skates, and is impelled by the wind in the same manner as an ordinary yacht. There has been for some time at Poughkeepsie, in this State, and Ice Yacht Club, modeled after the New York Yacht Club. Thus the frozen waters of the Hudson do not by any means impede the winter navigation of the river; indeed, with a strong wind and upon a smooth surface of ice, one of these ice-boats will attain a speed of one mile per minute, thus outrunning the locomotive, and literally flying with the speed of the wind.

"For several winters a race has been contemplated between these singular yachts; but the condition of the ice has never been favorable at the time agreed upon. Our illustration on this page shows the fleet at Poughkeepsie. This fleet consists of eight boats: the Flying Cloud, owned by IRVING GRINNELL; the Icicle, by JOHN ROOSVELT; the Snow Squall, by THEODORE V. JOHNSTON; the Una, by AARON INNIS; the Flying Dutchman, by THEODORE VAN KLEEK; the Haze, by JOHN JAY INNIS; the Restless, by Commodore O. H. BOOTH; and the Snow Flake, by THOMAS PARISH."

Editor's note - the Icicle is on display at the Hudson River Maritime Museum.

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Rockland Lake is a large, freshwater lake located quite close to the Hudson River, just across the river from the city of Ossining. Throughout the 19th century, it was the primary source of natural ice for New York City. South of Newburgh, the Hudson River is brackish - as a tidal estuary it contains a mix of fresh and salt water in the lower part of the valley, making it unsuitable for ice harvesting. Rockland Lake, on the other hand, was fed by a spring and remained largely unpolluted. In 1831, the Knickerbocker Ice Company formed at Rockland Lake, where it remained in operation until the turn of the 20th century. (Learn more about ice harvesting on Rockland Lake)

A large steamboat landing was built on the Hudson River near Rockland Lake to accommodate the ice trade. The need for a lighthouse at Rockland Lake was first reported in October of 1899 by the New York Herald, which noted that "many of the new steamers are propellers of such draught as to make the shoal dangerous."

​On December 7, 1892, the Brooklyn Union Daily Standard reported that an appropriation of $35,000 was made "[f]or establishing a lighthouse and fog signal at or near Oyster Bed Shoal," off of the Rockland Lake dock. The brief noticed continued, "Steamers lay their course near there, making an important turning point, and it is said that the placing of this lighthouse at that point may have an effect in preventing wrecks there." 

A year later, the New York Herald reported that the Lighthouse Board had completed the plans for what would become the Rockland Lake Lighthouse, to be located "1,100 feet northeast of the northeasterly end of Rockland Lake landing." 

In July, 1894, the Rockland County Times reported on the construction of the new lighthouse. "The structure, when finished, will be a facsimile of the Tarrytown lighthouse, with the addition of several recent improvements." The article noted, "There is at present no lighthouse between those at Tarrytown and Stony Point, and boatmen traveling between those two points are now troubled at times to find their bearings. This will be obviated by the Rockland Lake lighthouse, which will afford them a safe guide on the darkest nights." 

Before it could be completed, however, it was struck by the steam canal boat Richard K. Fox, which had four barges in tow and destroyed the wooden construction dock "together with the workshop and other buildings connected to the works." According to the August 1, 1894 report from the New York World, the steam canal boat Richard K. Fox managed to carry "away on its bow part of one of the buildings and an Italian laborer who was sleeping in his bunk." An article from The Sun on the same incident named him as Guiseppe Luigi. Other workers dove into the water or clung to the iron lighthouse caisson to escape the wreck, which destroyed their living quarters. The lighthouse workers speculated that the captain of the Fox must have been asleep at the wheel. The Richard K. Fox appeared largely unharmed, though some reports indicate she "lost her pilot house," and continued on her way to New York City. The New York World article ends with this sentence, "Hudson River navigators think the lighthouse a menace to navigation." The Sun indicates, "It [the lighthouse, upon completion] will then prove dangerous in foggy or misty weather, boatmen say." 

By September 5, 1894, notice was given to mariners that the light would be lit "on or about October 1, 1894, a light of the fourth order, showing fixed white for 5 seconds, separated by eclipses of 5 seconds." The cast iron caisson was to be painted brown on the lower half, and white on the upper.

Like the lighthouses at Tarrytown and Jeffrey's Hook, the Rockland Lake lighthouse structure was pre-fabricated. 

By the 1910s, the Rockland Lake lighthouse had acquired a serious tilt. Most theories blame the oyster beds under the foundation. A the time, newspapers speculated that the shoals had washed out from under the lighthouse. Later historians speculate that the weight of the structure could have compacted the shoals, destabilizing them.

Righting the lighthouse was considered too expensive a project, so the clockwork mechanism which turned the light was simply adjusted to account for the angle of tilt. One can only imagine what it was like to live there as keeper.

By the 1920s, ice harvesting was also in decline, starting to be replaced by electric refrigeration. Perhaps this decline in traffic to the Knickerbocker Ice Company Landing played a role in the decision to decommission the lighthouse in 1923. That same year, a red-painted skeleton light was built adjacent to the lighthouse before that structure was demolished. A skeleton light still exists at that spot today. 

​If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!​

​Fog, snow and ice were always tremendous hazards to the steamboatmen who plied the Hudson shortly after the turn of the century. Before the days of radar and other electronic aids to navigation, boatmen had little to rely on but their own acquired knowledge of the river – and the tricks played by wind and tide.
 
With the always heavy river traffic and narrow channels, accidents were bound to occur, especially in fogs and snow storms. One of the more spectacular groundings took place in 1903, when the big tugboat Osceola of the Cornell Steamboat Company ran up on the old dock at Piermont.

In the winter of 1903, the Cornell tugboats Osceola and John H. Cordts were both bound up river with separate tows, both of them very large. The Cordts was about a mile ahead of the Osceola. Off Yonkers, a heavy snow storm set in with a raging northeast gale.
 
Was It Irvington?
When the Osceola was off what the crew believed to be Irvington, the captain said to the pilot, “I think we had better round up and head into the tide.”
 
The pilot suggested, “Let’s go on, the Cordts did.” But the captain still thought differently and rounded up. However, by going around to the west, they lost the echo of the whistle on the east shore and could not pick it up again.
 
Feeling their way along, they felt a slight jolt and a slight list to port.
 
But it was snowing so hard they couldn’t see anything, or could they pick up any echoes at all of the whistle. And, attempt after attempt to back off from whatever they had hit proved fruitless.
 
By Morning’s Light
When morning came, they understood why. The Osceola was perched right on top of the old dock at Piermont!
 
The Piermont dock had originally been built by the Erie Railroad back in the 19th century when the State of New Jersey refused the Erie permission to run trains in that state. As an alternative, the railroad proceeded to build a long pier out into the river at the southern most point in New York State on the west shore. The trains would be run out on the pier and passengers were taken from there to New York City by steamboat.
 
By 1903 the pier was no longer used and the end of the dock had fallen into ruin. At the time of the grounding, the tide was much higher than usual because of the winter storm, and the Osceola went right up on top of the old dock.
 
And there she remained, with her bow all the way out of the water, for some two weeks before workmen were successful in getting her off. Still, she came through her misadventure surprisingly well and continued towing on the Hudson River until October 1929.
 
A Zipped Lip
At the time of her "climb the round up and head into the dock caper," it was rumored that the chief engineer and the captain were not speaking to each other. The chief is supposed to have said later that he saw the spiles that were known to be about 500 feet north of the dock through the engine room door as the boat passed them. But he said nothing. Let the captain see them, he thought. That’s his job.
 
The captain, of course, did not see them and, consequently, the Osceola rode up on the dock in an inevitable accident.
 
And when the news about the unreported sighting of the spiles eventually worked its way into the Cornell office, that was the end of the chief engineer’s tenure of employment with the Cornell Steamboat Company.

                                                           No. 41- James W. Baldwin
                                                                              
The “James W. Baldwin” was one of the better-known steamboats to the people of this section of the Hudson river valley. She was built in 1860 and was originally 242 feet long, breadth of beam 34 feet, and a tonnage rating of 710. Her hull was constructed of wood by M.S. Allison of Jersey City and her engine, a vertical beam with a 60 inch cylinder and an 11 foot stroke, was the product of Fletcher, Harrison & company of New York. She had two iron boilers located on the guards. In later years the “James W. Baldwin” was rebuilt- measuring 275 feet, five inches, and a net tonnage rating of 923.
              
The “James W. Baldwin” was built for Captain Jacob H. Tremper of Kingston. Captain Tremper was one of the best-known of the old Hudson river skippers, beginning his career back in the thirties by purchasing and operating the steamboat “Fanny,” a stout little sidewheeler  formerly used on Long Island Sound, which he placed in service between New York and Marlborough. Later he purchased the “Emerald” and ran her for a short period between Poughkeepsie and the metropolis.
                
By the year 1860, Captain Tremper had made Rondout his terminus for a line to New York and he was running the steamboat “North America” on that route. In 1860 he ordered a new steamer which he intended to name the “Wiltwyck,” but when he launched her on November 19, 1860, he christened her the “James W. Baldwin.” The new steamboat was placed in regular service in the spring of 1861, and immediately gained attention because she was the speediest vessel carrying staterooms on the river at that time. She had 50 staterooms and sleeping accommodations for up to 100 persons. Later she was lengthened, an extra tier of staterooms added, and accommodations increased to 350 persons.
              
The “Baldwin” was a typical Hudson river night boat, and she was under the command of Captain Tremper from the day of her first trip until the year 1888 when the Captain died.
              
In the year 1899 the “James W. Baldwin” was purchased by the Central Hudson Steamboat Company of Newburgh, and in 1903 she was rebuilt, two new boilers were placed in her, and her name was changed to the “Central Hudson.” She saw service on the same route for which she was constructed in 1860.
              
During her career the “James W. Baldwin” had many running mates. In 1861-1862 she ran in line with the steamboat “Manhattan.” In 1863 she saw service with the “Knickerbocker,” continuing with the latter vessel until the “Thomas Cornell” made her appearance. The “Baldwin” ran in line with the “Thomas Cornell” until that vessel was wrecked on March 28, 1882, and then for the balance of the season she had the “City of Catskill” as her running mate. In 1883 the “City of Springfield” was the companion boat of the “Baldwin,” and then from 1884 to 1889 she ran in line with the hull propeller vessel “City of Kingston.”
              
In October, 1889, the “City of Kingston” was sold to a company on the Pacific coast, and for the balance of that season the steamboat “Saugerties” was chartered to run with the “Baldwin.”
              
During the winter of 1890 Romer & Tremper bought out the night line business of the Cornell Line between Rondout and New York, and purchased the steamboat, “Mason L. Weems,” later rechristened the “William F. Romer,” from a concern in Baltimore to run in line with the “James W. Baldwin.”

I​n 1910 the Central Hudson Line constructed a new steel hull propeller boat named the “Benjamin B. Odell,” and in the spring of 1911 this new vessel replaced the “James W. Baldwin” or “Central Hudson” as she was known at that period. The “Central Hudson” was then chartered out to the Manhattan Line to run between New York and Albany in line with the steamer “Kennebec,” later called the “Iroquois.”  On May 20, 1911, on the down trip from Albany, the “Central Hudson” ran aground at Jones Point where she was fast for 13 hours. On the return trip she again ran aground near West Point. This second accident occurred at high tide and was more serious than the first mishap, as the bow of the vessel was fast while the stern was floating. The keel was broken. An investigation in dry-dock showed the damage to be quite serious and the “Central Hudson” was abandoned. She was towed to Newburgh from Hoboken and was partly dismantled. Later she was purchased by J.H. Gregory, and on November 15, 1911, the once proud “James W. Baldwin” was towed through New York Harbor on her way to the bone yard at Perth Amboy where she was broken up.  

Editor's Note: This article was originally published on January 12, 1896 in the Chicago, Illinois The Daily Inter Ocean.  The tone of the article reflects the time period in which it was written.

New York, Jan. 10 – Special Correspondence. – The most popular new sport of the winter is golf on ice. This is like golfing on land, with a few important differences, but the persons who golf upon the ice are the same ones who golf on land. The popularity of the sport will not allow it to die during the months when the earth is covered with snow too deep for running across the links on land.

In the neighborhood around New York the most popular place for ice golfing is the Hudson River when it is frozen stiff as a sheet of ice and is covered with snow, from up above the Palisades down to where the river finds the harbor.

The way to play golf on ice is to mount upon skates and chase a ball over a certain course. So far it is like golf on land. The necessary attribute of golf on ice is that one should be a very expert skater, and that one has endurance and strength and can be comfortable in cold weather.

When the Gould family went up to the ice carnival at Montreal just a year ago upon that memorial tour when Count de Castlane proposed to Anna Gould, one of the prettiest sights they saw was the Montreal ice golfers. Pretty English girls with warm clothes and red cheeks swung the golf sticks high in the air and made flying descents upon the ball, chasing it as though on wings. A game of golf on ice progresses faster than a game of golf on land, and more space is covered in one link than there is in a whole country golf course.

The girls of the Hudson – those hearty daughters of millionaires who persisted in living along the banks of “the Rhine of America” most of the year – began ice golfing this winter. Their plan is to lay out links in the form of a course. The course is marked by a trail of fine dark sand, which is sprinkled upon the ice or upon the snow that covers the ice of the river. There isn’t over a handful in a mile of trail, but it is enough to mark the course.

The “Tee” in a Pile of Snow
The “teeing hole” lies upon the bank of the river. You start your ball along the trail, keep it going with as few strokes as possible on account of the score, and finally drive it ashore and into a “tee.” The second link lies farther on, and on the ice in this case is on the opposite shore of the river, maybe a mile across. All skate along to see fair play and the little caddy keeps close to the player’s heels.

On the return course the trail lies down the middle of the river, and the tee is a pile of snow with a hole sunken in it for the ball. This is very difficult to “make,” as the smoothness of the ice and the smallness of the hole carries the ball on and around instead of in. But it can be done. The etiquette of the teeing ground is the same on ice as on land. Not a word must be spoken at the tee, until the ball has been safely landed in the hold. The length of a proper golf course on ice, instead of being the regulation distance of five miles, is always twenty-five. Those who do not care to skate can drive along the river bank, or upon the ice, and watch the game.

If a millionaire could buy ice ponds with money it is sure that George Vanderbilt would have golfing on ice at the opening of his home, Biltmore, in North Carolina this week. Every other outdoor sport has been provided. There is a beautiful pond there that occasionally freezes over, but the crust is never thick enough for so many players and their spectators. But there are all things in readiness for golf on ice, and if the cold snap comes they will have it.

The Seward Webbs, whose Shelbourne farms, in New England, is the ideal country place in the world, have a lovely winter golf course that lies over a frozen lake. When the land is passed and the player reaches the lake she has her caddy slip on skates, and the two strike out after the ball. The tools required for golf on ice are the oval and flat ones. The round and pointed sticks and clubs are not needed. There are no obstructions on the ice like fences, but there are snowdrifts that require a frequent lofting of the ball. In fact, for golf on ice a particular science is required. The average player would strike straight ahead and be obliged to come back and, finally, waste more time in returning than would be allowed for a good game.

Back upon the Rockefeller country places that adjoin each other in the Tarrytown region there is a lovely spot that nestles quietly enough in the hills to tempt another Rip Van Winkle to lie down for a long slumber. To this spot the golf craze has penetrated, and a little house has been put up for the players. They gather in her as though in a clubhouse, get warm, eat little luncheons, and start out upon the chase across the ice. They can easily cover twenty-five miles in an afternoon’s golfing on ice.

Expert Girl Golfers
Hitherto the Meadow Brook Club people (who entertained the Duke of Marlborough on the hunt when he was here, and who bring their guests from the Pacific coast every fall for the hunting) have languished during the deep-snow season; but this fall the waters nearest them, the sound, the bay, the open bit of harbor, wherever there is a strip of ice, have been called into play for ice golfing. There may be as many links as one pleases, according to their newest rules, all to be decided the day before by a committee, which is governed by the state of the weather and the ice.

Golfing upon the ice is a special sport with the young millionairesses and debutantes. They have opportunity for so many pretty poses. Nothing is more graceful than skating, and the playing of a game upon the ice is bewitchingly becoming.

A very clever ice golfer is Miss Amy Bend, the very blond, baby-faced young woman, in her second or third season, who is reported engaged to Mr. Willie K. Vanderbilt.  Miss Bend golfs in the Shelbourne Farms house parties and at the many country places where she is a guest this winter.

Mrs. Ogden Mills and Mrs. Burke-Roche, both of which beautiful matrons are the mothers of twins, skate a great deal, with their children with them. Mrs. Burke-Roche, with her two sturdy boys, and Mrs. Mills, with her pretty little girls, can be seen skating every pleasant day. Their favorite spot is a club ground in New York City, upon which there will soon be built a set of golf links.

The Western young women who own large country places, like Miss Florence Pullman, have a way of their own in planning links.

A short time ago a professional golf linker who was engaged to lay out links at Lenox visited Miss Pullman’s country place in the West to get ideas from her. Her course is a very pretty one, and differs from others in having the tee holes situated in the prettiest portions of the ground. This is contrary to rule, as beauty of scenery is supposed to detract too much from one’s interest at the teeing time. If Miss Pullman follows the new winter golf fad, and has links upon the ice, she will doubtless invent a new way of making the golf links novel.

There is a certain young heiress in this country. She is a Western girl, though cosmopolitan, having lived all over the world, and she is original in taste. A short time ago, when the lake upon her country place where she went for the December holiday began to freeze, she began lamenting that she could not play golf on ice. “I hear they are doing it at Fifi’s country place,” said she, mentioning the nickname of a girl well known in society, and I don’t see why I can’t do the same.”

An Heiress’ Dream
Straightway she had her landscape gardeners set to work to make a golf link upon the ice. The lake was a smooth, round sheet, and the course was to lay around it. The first obstacle planned was a mound of ice. This was made by packing snow upon the crust of the ice and pouring water upon it. The next obstacle was a miniature falls, with icebergs and icicles. This the gardener had his men make by pouring water slowly down upon the ice letting it freeze in midair as it would. After many tubs of water had been poured, the ice took on the appearance of a frozen falls.

In playing golf upon the ice, where obstacles have been placed, the skill of the player is taxed to strike the ball just hard enough to lift it over the obstacle. He then skates around it and finds his ball upon the other side. This would be simple enough if he were sure of lifting the ball over the obstruction. But he can only “loft” with his full strength and then skate around. He not wait or the ball will have gone a mile ahead of him over the frozen surface, and a hundred feet past the tee, which is just the other side of the obstacle.

There will have to be a new code of golf instructions written for those who golf upon the ice, because the summer golfing is different in everything but principle. But that will soon be done, as several young men who have fallen in love with the sport are at work upon it. HARRY GERMAINE.”

​The Nantucket Girl's Song is a witty poem found in the journal kept by Eliza Brock, wife of Peter C. Brock, master of the Nantucket ship Lexington on a whaling voyage from May 1853 to June 1856. It sums up how many women felt about their husbands being off on whaling voyages for years at a time. Verse attributed to Martha Ford Russell, Bay of Islands, New Zealand, February 1855. Susan J. Berman, songwriter and interpreter at the Nantucket Historical Association, has set this poem to music and added a verse of her own

NANTUCKET GIRL’S SONG - LYRICS
By Susan J Berman

(verse)
Well I’ve made up my mind now to be a sailor’s wife,
Have a purse full of money and a very easy life.
For a clever sailor husband is so seldom at his home,
That a wife can spend the dollars with a will that’s all her own.

(chorus)
So I’ll haste to wed a sailor and I’ll send him off to sea,
For a life of independence is the pleasant life for me.
Oh but every now and then I shall like to see his face,
For it always seems to me to beam with manly grace.
With his brow so nobly open and his dark and kindly eye,
Oh my heart beats fondly whenever he is nigh.
But when he says goodbye my love I’m off across the sea,
First I’ll cry for his departure, then I’ll laugh because I’m free.

(verse)
I will welcome him most gladly whenever he returns,
And share with him so cheerfully the money that he earns.
For he is a loving husband, though he leads a roving life,
And well I know how good it is to be a sailor’s wife.

(chorus)
So I’ll haste to wed a sailor and I’ll send him off to sea,
For a life of independence is the pleasant life for me.
Oh but every now and then I shall like to see his face,
For it always seems to me to beam with manly grace.
With his brow so nobly open and his dark and kindly eye,
Oh my heart beats fondly whenever he is nigh.
But when he says goodbye my love I’m off across the sea,
First I’ll cry for his departure, then I’ll laugh because I’m free.

(verse)
So Nantucket girls please hear me and join in with this song,
Hold fast to the tradition of great women brave and strong.
For the women steer this island quite well there is no doubt
And do the things most other girls can only dream about.

(chorus)
So I’ll haste to wed a sailor and I’ll send him off to sea,
For a life of independence is the pleasant life for me.
Oh but every now and then I shall like to see his face,
For it always seems to me to beam with manly grace.
With his brow so nobly open and his dark and kindly eye,
Oh my heart beats fondly whenever he is nigh.
But when he says goodbye my love I’m off across the sea,
First I’ll cry for his departure, then I’ll laugh because I’m free.
Oh yes,  First I’ll cry for his departure, then I’ll laugh because I’m free.

Source: https://susanjberman.com/track/1456721/the-nantucket-girl-s-song