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Today's featured artifact is this electric lantern from the steamboat Mary Powell. The Mary Powell, built in 1861, underwent one of many overhauls during the winter of 1887-88. Several changes were made to the steamboat, including rearranging the interior accommodations. For instance, the main dining room was moved from the hull to the main deck, so passengers could see out the windows as they ate. The other major change was the installation of over one hundred electric lights, which made evening travel safer and more pleasant. This particular lantern was likely meant for use by the crew. Designed to either plug in to direct current lines or unplugged for use powered by an internal battery, this was likely used in the engine room. A similar lantern is held in the collections of the National Maritime Museum in London, UK, where it is listed as a "naval emergency lantern." Electric improvements continued aboard the Mary Powell in subsequent seasons. In the winter of 1893-94, two new private parlors were constructed, with electric call bells - presumably to call the steward or other staff for assistance. In 1905, an electric fire alarm system was installed. On May 10, 1905, the Kingston Daily Freeman reported on the improvement: An electric fire alarm, the idea of Captain Anderson, is being installed on the Mary Powell by H. B. Legg and H. H. Buckbee. Instead of sounding a large gong in case of fire, which would alarm the passengers, electric annunciators are placed throughout the boat notifying the crew where to report, thereby saving time. The inspectors who were here Tuesday say the system is perfect and the first to be installed on any vessel. Although historical record of these electric systems is limited, we can presume that the electricity was produced by a dynamo powered by the steam engines. If you would like to see the electric lantern in person, it is on display as part of the museum's "Mary Powell: Queen of the Hudson" exhibit. 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!
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Editor’s Note: Welcome to the next episode in our 11-part account of Muddy Paddle's narrowboat trip through the Erie Canal and the Cayuga & Seneca Canal in western New York. The New York State Barge Canal system is in many ways a tributary of the Hudson River. It still connects the Great Lakes, the Finger Lakes, and Lake Champlain with the Atlantic Ocean by way of the Hudson River. Our contributing writer, Muddy Paddle, shares his experiences aboard the "Belle Mule." All the included illustrations are from his trip journal and sketchbooks. Day 10 - MondayI quietly brewed a cup of coffee and climbed out of the Belle for a short walk and a sketch. It is warm and humid and the sky was already threatening. When I got back to the boat, Brent was up and out and talking with a young village police officer. We treated ourselves to breakfast at a nearby diner and called ahead for the bridge operator before disconnecting shore power and casting off our lines. When we were lined up, the Main St bridge went up and we throttled up on our way to Albion and Medina. We called the bridge operator at Holley and the bridges that he operates at here and at Hulberton were ready as we approached each. About six miles later, we arrived at Albion. Just as in Brockport, docking is situated between two lift bridges so we explained to the operator that we only needed a lift at Ingersoll Street. We tied up along the bulkhead with rotten timbers and were immediately beset by bees. It was hot and humid and it looked as though we were close to getting slammed by another strong thunderstorm, so we closed all of our window ports and hatches and locked everything up before exploring the town. Albion is the county seat of Orleans County. The business district is centered along a north-south Main St extending perpendicularly south from the canal. A block of very early canal stores with hipped roofs and stepped parapets remains at the lift bridge. There are also handsome late nineteenth century commercial buildings with cast iron storefronts and bracketed cornices for several blocks south. The courthouse square begins two blocks south of the canal. A domed courthouse is at the center and impressive churches gather around the surrounding streets. We visited an antique store and picked up a couple of small and inexpensive souvenirs. We walked up to the Post Office to see a terrific WPA mural of a generic canal town at a prosperous moment. A tug and barge are passing beneath the open lift bridge, farms are cultivating in the distance and a factory employing townsfolk belches coal smoke nearby. The southern horizon was filled with an ominous purple cloud bank with white wispy clouds gathering around its base. A huge storm was rampaging only a few miles away from us but it seemed to be moving east and not likely to spread in our direction. We walked over to the George Pullman Memorial Unitarian Church in hopes of experiencing its lavish Tiffany interior. Built in 1894 by Pullman as a gift to his original hometown, the church is a beautiful but scaled-down cousin of the famous Trinity Church at Copley Square in Boston. Pullman made his fortune building richly appointed Pullman cars for the railroads. Albionites have said that he got the idea from the long packet boats with sleeping bunks passing through town on a regular basis. Unfortunately, the church was closed. Grateful for having dodged the big storm, we returned to our floating version of a Pullman car, waded through the bees and called the Main Street bridge for a lift. The operator was ready for us as soon as we were in place and traffic on Route 98 came to a stop for a few moments as we left Albion behind. We travelled through orchards and fields cultivated for corn and cabbage with only a fringe of trees and bushes along the banks of the canal. An eagle jumped off of a tree limb hanging over the towpath and swooped down over the canal ahead of us before ascending high above the farmland to our south. It was still hot and humid and the skies to our south remained dark purple and stormy. We called ahead to the Eagle Harbor lift bridge and the operator was ready for here and also at Knowlesville a few miles further west. Eagle Harbor still has a brick church along the canal from its heyday as a small canal port, but little else remains. About one mile further west, we passed over the Medina Culvert, a stone arched tunnel beneath the canal that carries Culvert Rd beneath the raised embankments of the canal. The culvert was begun in 1823 and lengthened as the canal was widened in the 1840s and again in 1916. We stopped the Belle here and stood up on the cabin top where we could see the road below us north and south. Unfortunately, there was no place to safely tie our boat up so that we could climb down and visit the site. The humidity finally broke as the big wide loop in the canal east of Medina came into view with rooftops and steeples in the background. One portion of this loop serves as an aqueduct, carrying the canal above Oak Orchard Creek. The other portion serves as a wide boat basin with a long dock running behind Medina’s business district. Brent drove us toward the long dock but came in a little too fast. We hit the bulkhead hard. The steel hull “took another one for the team” but gave up little more than paint. “Captain Crunch” roughed up a little more steel trying to square the boat up, much to the amusement of three obnoxious teens mocking us out from a nearby picnic table. The same teens who chuckled at our rough landing misdirected us when we asked about where we could find ice. After fooling around along Main Street for half an hour, Brent and I stopped in a Mediterranean style family restaurant and asked the hostess if she could tell us where we could buy ice. She said, “just a moment,” and returned a few minutes later with two ten-pound bags of ice, compliments of the house. Meanwhile, a troupe of fitness fillies arrived at the landing and began a rhythmic exercise routine with loud music and drumsticks. They beat the pavement and steel railings hard while an elderly gent nearby took an unhealthy interest. Brent and I returned to the boat to make dinner only to find that the meat was ironically frozen solid. Given the racket next to the boat, everyone was ready to get dinner on Main Street. We opted for the same friendly restaurant with the free ice. Medina’s Main Street features rows of remarkably well-preserved nineteenth century business blocks, many built from locally quarried Medina sandstone. These buildings include handsome cast iron storefronts, hooded windows and elaborate cornices and parapets. A tall sandstone opera house built in 1865 was being restored. The sandstone town hall included an exhibit on Medina’s famous quarries and stone cutters. Like many canal towns, Medina still has echoes of its Irish canawler heritage. Fitzgibbons Public House on Main Street is one of these icons. Medina has something many other towns are missing; music piped-in from the business district street lamps. After dinner, we walked over to the Railroad Museum, well after it had closed. We were sorry to miss the 200 foot-long train layout in the New York Central freight house, but enjoyed seeing historic rolling stock on one of the sidings including two big GM diesel locomotives from the early 1950s painted in Twentieth Century Limited livery. We returned to our boat, played Pictionary at the galley table and took serious showers at the transient boater facility a short walk away. Some sprinkles came along at night but none of the anticipated thunderstorms developed. AuthorMuddy Paddle grew up near the junction of the Hudson River and the Erie Canal. His deep interest in the canal goes back to childhood when a very elderly babysitter regaled him with stories about her childhood on the canal in the 1890s. Muddy spent his college years on the canal and spent many of his working years in a factory building overlooking the canal. Over the years he has traveled much of the canal system by boat and by bicycle. Muddy Paddle's Erie Canal adventure will return next Friday! To read other adventures by Muddy Paddle, see: Muddy Paddle: Able Seaman, about Muddy Paddle's adventures on the replica Half Moon, and Muddy Paddle's Excellent Adventure on the Hudson, about his canoe trip down the Hudson River.
The History Blog is supported by museum members and readers like you! Donate or join today! Completed in 1874, the Hudson-Athens Lighthouse marks the southern point of the Middle Ground Flats - a dangerous mud flat located smack between the sister cities of Hudson and Athens. Site of the famous wreck of the Swallow, a lighthouse had been requested to mark the flats - which at the time were submerged at high tide - since the 1830s. But it was not until after the Civil War that funds were appropriated and the lighthouse constructed. Henry D. Best was its first keeper, and was succeeded by his son Frank M. Best in 1893. However, not everyone was happy that Frank got the job. Sometime after June 7, 1894 (the article itself is undated), the Hudson Columbia Republican published an article entitled, "A Complete Vindication - Rebuke to Those Who Brought Charges Against Light-Keeper Best." You can read the original article for yourself: A COMPLETE VINDICATION Rebuke to Those Who Brought Charges Against Light-Keeper Best As the result of the examination conducted by H. W. Alden, Esq., upon May 31st in relation to certain charges preferred against Frank M. Best, light-keeper of the Hudson city light [sic], the Inspector of the Light-house Board, Third District, has made the following report and determination to the National Light-house Board at Washington, D.C., which completely vindicates Mr. Best’s good character and trustworthiness and exposes the falsity of the charges made against him. We publish the full text of the report, it being a matter in which all citizens of Hudson should be interested, as it discloses the unscrupulous methods adopted in the case, which same methods might at any time be put in operation to attack the character of any person, however up-right and honorable he might be, should he happen to incur the enmity of the ruling political faction: JUNE 7th, 1894. SIRS: - In reply to the Board’s letter of May 25th, 1894, transmitting a petition of Matthew Kennedy and others, of Hudson, N.Y., and several affidavits avering [sic] neglects of duty, for the removal of Frank M. Best, Keeper of Hudson City Light, charging that Mr. Best is a questionable character and was at one time arrested for stealing and destroying a boat, that he is generally untrustworthy, I would say that I sent Lieutenant-Commander C. H. West, Assistant Inspector, to Hudson on May 31st to investigate these charges as directed by the Board. Preliminary to this investigation I informed all parties of these charges that Mr. West would be in Hudson on the 31st day of May, just past, and requested them to be present with their testimony on that occasion. The investigation revealed the fact that Matthew Kennedy and Frank M. Best were fishermen some fourteen years ago on the Hudson river, and had quarreled about the methods and places where their respective seines should be hauled. Since that date they appear to have continued enemies, although Best left the business of fisherman and went into the employ of the Hudson River Railroad Company not long afterwards. While in such employ, a boat, or old rotten float used to secure a fish pound, was washed ashore on the bank of the river near the Hudson River Railroad Company’s tracks. Best finding this wreck at this point, regarded it as a flostaam [sic] thrown up by the river, and therefore broke it up and gave it to various railroad employees. It proved subsequently to have been the property of Matthew Kennedy, who had Best arrested and brought before a Justice who adjudged him guilty of destroying Kennedy’s property, and sentenced him (Best) to the limits of the town for a certain period. This action was a mere civil procedure, involving nothing whatever criminal against the said Best. Subsequently Best was Inspector of Elections, and also ran for Supervisor. In politics the two men differed, possibly, and the bad blood between them is the outcome of village quarrels which ought not to have been brought to the Board’s attention at all. Andrew Clow, who forwarded these charges to the Secretary of the Treasury, appears in the matter only as a shelter for Matthew Kennedy, who is the principal complainant and was chiefly instrumental in having the petition and other papers signed. Clow’s only desire was to get Best’s position when he gave it up voluntarily, but he did not wish to injure Best’s character. Best’s character is spoken of highly by the Hudson River Railroad officials as intelligent, honest and trustworthy, having risen in their employ from the lower grades of switchman and baggage master, to a confidential clerk’s position in one of the departments of the road where he collected ground rents and other monies for the company. His good standing, his general integrity of character and his entire trustworthiness in Hudson, where he lives, is testified by Rev. Mr. Yeisley, Treasurer Rainey, Cashier Boatwick, and Editor Bryan. Mr. Dennis Kennedy, brother of Matthew Kennedy, who seems to have been instrumental in all this matter, testifies to Best’s good character and to his general trustworthiness. The charge that his light was not lighted on the 15th and 20th of November, 1893, for a few minutes after sundown, appears to be a cumulative charge, and of little consequence. If these affidavits are true, the parties to this report ought not to have waited some seven or eight months to connect them with some other offense, before bringing them to the notice of the proper authorities, and in these matters, I would state, there is very little ignorance along the Hudson river. Notably in contrast, however, is the testimony of pilot McKnight, who made the affidavit of the light being out on the occasion mentioned. His present testimony is that the light is generally kept in a most creditable manner and is always bright and in good order, and that such is its reputation on the river. Mayor Miller and D. Doland admitted that they had signed the petition for Best’s removal without ever having read it, and that they knew nothing of the character of the paper, except that it purported to be a petition to get a light-house for a friend of Matthew Kennedy. Mayor Miller knew nothing of Best except form hearsay, and had signed the paper as a favor to Kennedy who was a friend. In view of such trifling, as these charges indicate, with the character of a worthy man, I attach no importance to the papers submitted, except to state that they are without reliability or support, and are malicious in intent. They indicate a small village quarrel that is thus sought to be interjected upon the Board for settlement by one set of parties exaggerating trifles almost to the point of lying, in order to secure the removal of a worthy man who is not without credit and trustworthiness in his home, and who, since his appointment, has been a uniformly good light-keeper. Very respectfully, (Signed) W. S. Schley, Captain U.S. N., Inspector. The Light-house Board, Washington, D. C. What do you think of Captain Schley's assessment? Frank M. Best remained keeper until his death in 1918. His wife Nellie stayed on as keeper for a few months, but found it was not to her taste. William J. Murray was brought on as replacement keeper at the end of 1918. 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!
"Fat Cat Blue and The Clean Rivers Song" was released in 2009 as part of a series called "Schoolhouse Rock! Earth," and is one of 11 environmentally-themed songs from the series. Schoolhouse Rock was originally designed as between-program educational animated songs aired on public television and first launched in 1973. Originally airing from 1973 to 1984, new songs were released along with the old in the mid-1990s and in the early 2000s a new crop of songs were created and released.
FAT CAT BLUE: THE CLEAN RIVERS SONG - LYRICS
Mouse: That's one swell river, huh, Cat? Fat Cat: Yeah, it's a real cat's meow. But you know, Mouse, it ain't always been such a dandy. Now let's get a wiggle. Lily Delight, your paintbrush is dripping white. Chorus: (singing) Down it goes, it's going down the river Mouse: It's floating in the river Fat Cat: Backyard Barber throws clippings right down the drain. Chorus: Down they go, they're going down the river Mouse: It ends up in the river Fat Cat Blue: A swanky old blankie. (singing) A trash can or two (speaking) Hey there. Get on board with "Fat Cat Blue". Ooh Little Betsy, those fish lay their eggs upstream. Chorus: Down they go, they're swimming down through the river Mouse: They can't swim up the river Fat Cat Blue: Hey there, skipper. That slime's blooming everywhere. Chorus: Down it goes, it's going down the river Mouse: It's floating in the river Fat Cat: Now, that's a clean river, skipper. (singing) A fish ladder too (speaking) Hey there. Get on board with "Fat Cat Blue". Chorus: We're gonna listen to "Fat Cat Blue" Fat Cat: Now for hundreds of years, these waters were sparkling clean. Lily Delight and Little Betsy: Hey, that's cool "Fat Cat Blue" Mouse: So what happened? Fat Cat: Well, I'll tell you. All of a sudden, folks started building over there, and making a dog-awful mess over there. And after a while: (singing) Down it goes, down it goes, going down Drifting through the estuary, tributary, stream or book And through the prier, down Chorus: To the river Fat Cat: Going down Chorus: Through the river Fat Cat: Going down Mouse: It's floating in the river Chorus: Get on board with "Fat Cat Blue" Fat Cat: Come on, now, we're not down yet. Let's get a wiggle. Gizmo maker, that's really quite some toxic stew. Chorus: Down it goes, it's going down the river Mouse: It's floating in the river Fat Cat: Landfill Baron, that rubbish has gone adrift. Chorus: Down it goes, it's going down the river Mouse: It's floating in the river Fat Cat: Recycle that rubbish. (singing) And clean up that stew (speaking) Hey, there. Get on board with "Fat Cat Blue". Ooh Well, Mouse, I figure we should call it a day. You see, we got a lot of work to do tomorrow to make sure that this here river never gets like that again. Mouse: Yeah, Cat. That river is quite a dandy. Chorus: A beautiful river We'll leave it to you Fat Cat Blue: Now that's why you gotta get on board with "Fat Cat Blue".
Special thanks to Bill Peckmann for suggesting this song!
āIf 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!ā
Editor’s Note: Welcome to the next episode in our 11-part account of Muddy Paddle's narrowboat trip through the Erie Canal and the Cayuga & Seneca Canal in western New York. The New York State Barge Canal system is in many ways a tributary of the Hudson River. It still connects the Great Lakes, the Finger Lakes, and Lake Champlain with the Atlantic Ocean by way of the Hudson River. Our contributing writer, Muddy Paddle, shares his experiences aboard the "Belle Mule." All the included illustrations are from his trip journal and sketchbooks. Day 9 - SundayThe rain let up in the morning and I went out to do a little thumbnail sketch of the village (above). One of the locals was interested in what I was doing and came over to chat. He worked as a garbage man and told me that “he sees everything.” He noted that the white steeple in my sketch became the subject of a favorite photograph he produced when he saw it gleaming against a dark storm cloud. A hole in the cloud admitted a single shaft of blinding white light trained right on the church. He printed this image many times with different hues and colors and still considered it one of his best pieces. Brent manned the range and made frittatas for breakfast. After several reinforcing cups of hot coffee, we disconnected our shore power, cast off lines and headed west under the Union Street lift bridge. This is the first in a series of 15 similar lift bridges we will pass beneath, all built between 1910 and 1918. These bridges were a practical necessity for many canal town business districts where obtaining sufficient vertical clearance for tugboats and motor ships with conventional fixed spans would have required long approaches blocking access to essential stores and businesses situated in close proximity to the canal. The bridges are built with riveted Warren trusses and rise and fall on four legs placed in caissons. The caisson on one side features an electric motor and a counterweight approximating the dead weight of the bridge. Cables linking the legs together beneath the bridge deck transmit the lift equally to all four legs. The bridges typically feature an operator’s tower with good visual range up and down the canal, stairs that allow pedestrians to cross when the deck is raised, crossing gates and signal lights to stop traffic and a clanging bell to alert everyone that the bridge is in motion. They are a defining feature of the western portion of the canal for both the boaters and the towns. We reached a second lift bridge about 30 minutes later in Adams Basin. Adams Basin, once a port for warehousing and shipping agricultural products is now quiet with only a few houses and barns. A mid-nineteenth century canal inn survives on the north bank of the canal and was fittingly used until recently as a bed and breakfast. The bridge operator spoke with us on channel 13 and was ready for us when we arrived. There was no traffic to disrupt here. As we continued west, he pleasantly transmitted “Have a nice day, captain.” Today’s destination is Brockport. Docking is situated between two lift bridges and unlike Adams Basin, both carry plenty of traffic. The bridge operator shuttles between the two bridges by bicycle. We called ahead to let her know that we needed to pass under the Park Avenue bridge but not the Main Street bridge. Appreciating the heads-up, the bridge was already up as we approached with plenty of cars backed up. Other boats were on the wall at Harvester Park and we had a tricky piece of parallel parking to perform to claim our space. Brockport was founded in 1823 when it briefly served as the western terminus of the Erie Canal. Heil Brockway built packet boats here and operated a successful line between Rochester and Buffalo soon after the canal was completed. A college was established here in 1841 which evolved into today’s State University College at Brockport, the institution that now dominates the village economy and culture. And in 1846, Cyrus McCormick, founder of International Harvester, produced the first successful mechanical harvesters in the world at a Brockport foundry, hence the appellation “Harvester Park.” In many ways, Brockport is the quintessential canal town. Its Main Street is perpendicular to the canal and lined by two and three story brick commercial blocks with cast iron storefronts and bracketed cornices. Steepled churches rise up around the fringe of the business district. Brick and frame houses fill out the blocks more distant from the canal and the college campus stretches west from the residential neighborhoods to farm fields outside of the old village. A modern area of banks, supermarkets and fast food is located about a mile south of the canal. The banks of the canal were lined with livery stables and storage buildings, several of which remain and are now used for businesses and restaurants. The village is keenly aware of its history and has pioneered a “museum without walls.” Street signs are custom made with silhouettes of canal boats, trains and trolleys. The presence of the college has supported restaurants, local brewing, coffee shops, a really nice bookstore and even a symphony orchestra! We removed our bikes and set off to visit the 1894 Soldiers Memorial about a mile east of the village. After the Civil War, a local initiative got underway to establish a veterans’ cemetery in town. Following the philosophy that “if you build it, they will come,” a chapel, vault and observation tower were built to promote the project. Only several veterans were buried before the project petered out. The Gothic-styled tower with a spiral staircase to an observation gallery was neglected but survived for decades and became a destination for many college students. By the 1970s, the spiral stairs were mainly broken and the gallery had begun to collapse. In recent years, the tower was stabilized without the gallery and rededicated. We had a little difficulty finding the site off Owens Road but got help from neighbors who directed us to a hill behind a fire station. The truncated tower is now well cared for and well worth looking for. We remounted our bikes and rode into the village and then over to the college campus for a little tour. The town and campus are compact and pedestrian friendly. We checked out menus at several restaurants and decided to return in the evening to a place in an old canal building next to the Main Street lift bridge. After putting our bikes back on the boat, we decided to make a short three-mile boat trip to Holley to visit the canal park and waterfall. Holley is a small town built around a large square surrounded by two and three-story commercial buildings with cast iron storefronts. A Romanesque style campanile of a former church presides at the head of the table so-to-speak. The canal by-passed the square in 1856 and today, only the East Avenue lift bridge suggests the presence of a town while transiting the canal. We docked at the canal park, and planned to picnic at the gazebo, but a young Marine in his dress blues and his bride were there for photographs as we carried lunch off the boat. We found a picnic pavilion nearby and decamped there. After lunch, a couple of kids showed us the way to the waterfall. The waterfall is associated with a waste weir or spillway on the canal. After cascading down a steep, rocky bank, excess canal water flows into a creek which then flows north into a culvert and under the canal. We returned to Brockport, walked around Main Street and Market Street and had a pleasant dinner alongside the canal. After dinner, we went out for ice. In the evening we played a trivia game. We had a restless night on the wall. It began with a couple of loud drunkards on the opposite bank of the canal sitting on a park bench and repeatedly asking “eh?” followed by colorful but innumerable f-bombs. Voices really carry over the water. Later, a deranged duck relentlessly pecked the Belle’s steel hull waterline in search of mussels. I woke up early, wrote in my journal and went back to bed for a few more hours. AuthorMuddy Paddle grew up near the junction of the Hudson River and the Erie Canal. His deep interest in the canal goes back to childhood when a very elderly babysitter regaled him with stories about her childhood on the canal in the 1890s. Muddy spent his college years on the canal and spent many of his working years in a factory building overlooking the canal. Over the years he has traveled much of the canal system by boat and by bicycle. Muddy Paddle's Erie Canal adventure will return next Friday! To read other adventures by Muddy Paddle, see: Muddy Paddle: Able Seaman, about Muddy Paddle's adventures on the replica Half Moon, and Muddy Paddle's Excellent Adventure on the Hudson, about his canoe trip down the Hudson River.
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