History Blog
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Today's Featured Artifact is a fur top hat that once belonged to Mary Powell Captain Absalom Lent Anderson! Accompanied by a letter of provenance written on the front of an envelope in 1960, this amazing artifact is currently on display as part of the new exhibit, "Mary Powell: Queen of the Hudson." The letter reads, "Capt. Absalom Anderson's Hat "This hat was given to me by Valerie Capowski, widow of Dr. William Capowski, of Milton, NY, who told me that the hat was given to the doctor by descendants of Capt. Anderson, who had assured the doctor that this was the Captain's dress hat which he wore during the period when he was the captain of the Mary Powell." Sept. 1960, William H. Austin. Born in 1812 in Croton-on-Hudson, NY, Absalom Lent Anderson married Catharine Ann Leveret Elting in 1843. They went on to have 10 children together, although several would not survive childhood. Moving frequently between New York City and Ulster County, the Andersons eventually settle in Port Ewen. In the 1840s and ‘50s, Absalom Lent Anderson was part-owner and captain of the passenger steamboat Thomas Powell. In 1860, he conceived of a newer, faster, more modern vessel that became the Mary Powell. Anderson was captain of the Mary Powell from 1861 until 1865, when he sold to boat to Thomas Cornell. From 1866 to 1871, Captain Ferdinand Frost ran the boat, but Absalom Anderson regained captaincy in 1872, and continued as captain until his retirement in 1886. In poor health, Absalom Lent Anderson and his wife Catharine, accompanied by their unmarried daughter Charlotte, moved to Montecito, California. Steamboat ownership and captaincy had made Absalom wealthy, as they maintained an estate in Port Ewen, NY as well as their mansion in Montecito, called Stone Hedge. In 1894 daughter Charlotte died of heart disease at age 40. On May 6 of that same year, Catharine died. Both were returned home to New York and were buried in Montrepose Cemetery in Kingston, NY. On November 18, 1895, Absalom Anderson also died in Santa Barbara, California. He had been in an accident some weeks prior, having been thrown from a cart, and although newspaper sources say he appeared fine at the time, he may have had some internal injuries which caused his death. He, too, is buried in Montrepose Cemetery in Kingston, NY. 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: In 1996, our intrepid writer, Muddy Paddle, built a historic wooden bateau and took it and a group of kids down the Hudson River. Accompanied by a war canoe and a modern sailboat, the three vessels had many adventures along the way. Check back each Friday for the next installment. Monday. Coxsackie to Saugerties.The flotilla is formed. This morning, the bateau was joined by a 26-foot strip-planked war canoe and an 18-foot sailboat. All of the participants were ready and packed. The Sturgeon and her consorts left Coxsackie a little after 9:00 AM at high tide, ensuring the advantage of the ebb tide for six hours or so. This was an essential consideration. If a boat departs on a high tide and covers 25 or 30 miles south, it will again have a high tide at the same time the next day even though that tide will reach the original point of departure about an hour later. This makes a big difference in planning a southbound rowing or paddling trip. Rowing or paddling against an adverse tide is possible, but it is exhausting as we found out later in the day. I had seven teenage boys and one very young brother with me for this leg of the trip. The weather was fair and cool in the morning and although a few new rowers ”caught crabs” in the beginning, the flotilla made good progress south. Gradually, a breeze came up from the south and set up a chop which slowed all of the boats down. At Athens, we followed the more direct but shallower west channel toward Catskill. We passed beneath the Rip Van Winkle Bridge with its little Dutch bridge keeper’s house and immediately felt more wind. We took a shore break at Dutchman’s Park in Catskill where we ate our picnic lunches supplemented by a few food truck selections. The fries were an unfortunate choice for crew members who felt logy after lunch. I warned everyone not to try napping. Rip Van Winkle would see to it himself that they would not wake up for 20 years. Nevertheless, it was difficult to motivate everyone to return to the bateau. A light rain further discouraged some of the crew members. The rain didn’t last but the adverse wind increased. It took us two hours to reach the huge silos at Cementon (now Smith’s Landing) and morale was flagging. Matt, the young brother, was green from too many French fries and a touch of seasickness. Unluckily, his hat blew overboard and superstition dictated that we return to retrieve it. Fortunately, we got to it just as it was about to sink, but the river gods were unimpressed. As if on cue, the tide turned at 3:30 led by a detectable tidal bore. Now we had our work cut out for us. Fortunately, the wind died down. We heard the roar of millions of cicadas on shore. We arrived at the Saugerties Lighthouse at 5:00 PM where we had made arrangements to stay overnight. The 1869 lighthouse had recently been stabilized, but unlike today, no creature comforts had yet been provided. There was a jar in the foyer where cash contributions could be deposited. The boys were particularly fascinated with the grills in the second story floor intended to distribute stove heat upstairs. They began dropping small things through the holes onto the boys sleeping below and it was a while before everyone settled down. It rained overnight and I for one was grateful to be in a dry building. AuthorMuddy Paddle grew up near several small muddy streams that lead to the Hudson River near Albany. He developed an affinity for small wooden boats as he explored the river's backwaters with oars and paddles. Muddy aspired to build a wooden boat for long trips but lacked the requisite skills, tools and space to tackle most types. However, building a bateau of the type used in the eighteenth century appeared to him to be a feasible backyard carpentry project. With the help and advice of several friends and teenagers, he built a sturdy and seaworthy open boat for rowing and sailing. The next installment of Muddy Paddle's Bateau will return next Friday! To read other adventures by Muddy Paddle, see: Muddle Paddle on the Erie Canal, Muddy Paddle: Able Seaman, about Muddy Paddle's adventures on the replica Half Moon, Muddy Paddle's Excellent Adventure on the Hudson, about his first canoe trip down the Hudson River.
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! Editor’s Note: The following text is a verbatim transcription of an article featuring stories by Captain William O. Benson (1911-1986). Beginning in 1971, Benson, a retired tugboat captain, reminisced about his 40 years on the Hudson River in a regular column for the Kingston (NY) Freeman’s Sunday Tempo magazine. Captain Benson's articles were compiled and transcribed by HRMM volunteer Carl Mayer. See more of Captain Benson’s articles here. This article was originally published May 6, 1973. For many decades in years past, one of the true harbingers of spring locally was the annual run of shad in the Hudson River. The shad fishermen would lay their nets and, to many residents, the first shad was a happy event. Generally, the relations between boatmen and the shad fishermen were amicable. The shad nets wound frequently drift across the channel and the boatmen would do their best to avoid them. On occasion, however, due to conditions of tide and wind - the boatmen would have no recourse but to run over the nets. Then, the relationship would be somewhat strained. At times the results were not without a touch of humor and, at other times, a bit bizarre. One time back in the, 1920's the tug "Victoria" of the Cornell Steamboat Company was going down river with several loaded scows for New York. She was bucking a flood tide off Highland and shaping the tow up for the cantilever span of the railroad bridge. The pilot on watch was getting close to the [b]ridge when he noticed he was going to run over a shad net. On looking over to the Highland side of the river, he saw a row boat coming out with an outboard motor and two men in it. Obviously they were the shad fishermen. He quickly blew one short blast on the whistle for the deckhand to come to the pilot house. When the deckhand came up, the pilot said, "Here, watch her, I’ve got to go below for a minute." Going down to the main deck, he went to the galley and put on the cook’s apron and hat and stood in the galley door as the shad fishermen came alongside. When they were within shouting distance, one of the fishermen hollered over, "What the devil are you running over my nets for?” and added a few more choice words of admonition. Of course, the deckhand in the pilot house didn’t know what to say since he was a new man and green at the game. The pilot, dressed like the cook, stood in the galley and laughed at the poor deckhand taking the bawling out. Then, to add insult to injury, he looked at [t]he fishermen, shaking his head and pointing up at the pilot house — as if he was in sympathy with the fishermen and perhaps not thinking much of the “pilot” steering the tugboat. On another occasion shortly after World War I, the steamboat "Trojan" of the Albany Night Line was on her way down river and, when off Glasco at about 11 p.m., ran over some fisherman's shad net. The fisherman yelled up to the pilot house of the passing steamer from his rowboat, "The next time you do that, I'll shoot you." About a week later as the "Trojan” was coming down past Crugers Island, a shad net was again stretched across the channel. Due to the nature of the channel at that point and the way the tide was running, the pilot bad no alternative but to run over the net. All of a sudden, [a] fellow in the rowboat stood up and fired a shot in the direction of the "Trojan." Fortunately, the shot missed the pilot house, but did hit the forward smokestack, putting a small hole in it. The later incident was related to me by the late Dick Howard Jr. of Rensselaer who was quartermaster on the “Trojan” at the time. Actually a sidewheeler, like the "Trojan,” would do little damage to a shad net by running over it. Despite their size, the side-wheelers were of exceptionally shallow draft and almost always would pass right over the net itself suspended beneath the surface. The only damage would be to have a couple of the net's surface floats clipped off by the turning paddle wheels. A propeller driven vessel, on the other hand, with its deeper draft, could do considerable damage to a shad net by snagging it and chewing up part of it by the revolving screw propeller. Most boatmen though, whenever possible, when passing over a shad net - would stop their boat’s engine and drift over it so as to avoid damaging the net. AuthorCaptain William Odell Benson was a life-long resident of Sleightsburgh, N.Y., where he was born on March 17, 1911, the son of the late Albert and Ida Olson Benson. He served as captain of Callanan Company tugs including Peter Callanan, and Callanan No. 1 and was an early member of the Hudson River Maritime Museum. He retained, and shared, lifelong memories of incidents and anecdotes along the Hudson River. 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!
Are your shad bushes blooming? The large shadbush (also known as juneberry or serviceberry or shad blow) in the museum's courtyard is getting ready to bloom - that means the shad run is starting!
In this story, Port Ewen commercial fisherman Frank Parslow describes restrictions on fishing in New York Harbor during WWII and the impact on Hudson River fishermen. This audio clip is part of the Hudson River Maritime Museum's Hudson River Commercial Fishermen Oral History Collection. You can listen to a selection of the museum's full oral history interviews on New York Heritage.
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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