​LETTER IX. PASSAGE UP THE RIVER HUDSON. -- ACCOUNT OF THE ACADEMY AT WEST POINT. -- PASS OF THE HIGHLANDS. -- ARNOLD'S TREACHERY. -- ALBANY AND ITS ENVIRONS.
Albany, July, 1819.
MY DEAR FRIEND: THE hasty letter I addressed to you from Connecticut, will have explained to you my unusual silence, and relieved you from any apprehension that it might be occasioned by a broken neck; but in truth you are rather unconscionable in epistolary demands. You had not manner of title to look for a letter by the Martha, and yet I thank you that you did look for it. It tells me that your thoughts are as often on this side the ocean as mine are on yours.

We have just made the passage up the magnificent Hudson (160 miles) from New-York to this city, which has indeed but one, though that no unimportant title to so grand a name, in being the capital of the state. It is probably, however, that the government will soon have to travel in search of the centre of the republic in like manner with that of Pennsylvania. Albany indeed seems to stand as in expectation of her falling honours, for though there are some well-finished streets and many commodious and elegant private dwellings, the general appearance of the town is old and shabby.

You will not care to trace with me the beautiful course of this river. The features of nature, so unspeakably (p.109) lovely to contemplate, are often tiresome in description. A few observations upon the military academy at West Point will perhaps interest you more than a sketch of the rocks and woody precipices upon which it stands.

This interesting academy, which flourishes under the eye of the Central Government, was established in 1802. Its first organization was devolved by Congress upon the late General Williams, whose talents and unremitting industry did honour to himself and to his country which employed them. The average number of youths educated at West Point varies from 230 to 250; 336 dollars are expended yearly upon each cadet, and the support of the establishment is rated by the government at the sum of 115,000 dollars per annum. The branches of education taught at the academy are similar to those taught at Woolwich and the Polytechnic school of Paris. About one thousand youths from all the sections of the Union have here received a liberal and scientific education.

A few of these now fill respectable posts in the corps of engineers, artillery, and other branches of the little army, amounting to a few thousands, which, scattered through this vast empire, are actively employed in the erection and conservation of forts, the protection of the Indian frontier, drawing of boundary lines, roads, & c. By far the greater number, however, retire from this little military fortress to the shade of private life, as peaceful cultivators of the soil, from whence some have been called by the voices of their fellow citizens to fill important civil offices; and all would be found ready, at the first
call of the Republic, to rush foremost for her defence.

In ascending the Hudson, we had no sooner passed the Highlands, than our eyes fell upon carpets of mossy verdure, and woods, whose foliage was fresh as if daily washed by showers. We could have imagined ourselves in a second spring, but for the tropical heat which followed us; and which was only broken two days since by the grandest and longest thunder-storm that I ever witnessed. The sun has not yet pierced the clouds; his doing so will be the signal for our departure. I have found this extreme heat much less oppressive than I could have believed possible; indeed, I will confess, under hazard of your thinking me fit to live with the giants under mount Aetna, that I have enjoyed it exceedingly. I find a purity and elasticity in the air that exhilarates my spirits, even while I am half melted by its fervour. ***

In this neighbourhood nature presents many beautiful and some grand features; chief among these, is the well-known cataract of the Mohawk; whose waters precipitate themselves over a fine wall of rock just before they unite with the Hudson.

Its height is stated variously; perhaps sixty feet is nearest the mark; its immense breadth is by some accounted a disadvantage; I imaging this to be the true source of its grandeur, particularly as there is nothing in the surrounding scenery to assist the effect.

For us, however, circumstances combined to throw charms around the spot, when beneath an Italian sky, and on a carpet of verdure which fairy feet might have sought to print their magic rings, we stretched ourselves with * * * * under the shade of a spreading tree, and cast our eyes upon the foaming Cohoez, whose dash and roar seemed to cool the fervid air. A group of smiling handmaids meantime spread a repast which an epicure might have envied. The scene, the air, the laughing heavens, and the cheerful companions, have graven the place on my memory as one of those "sunny spots"; which chequer with gold the shadowy path of human life.

There are several very pleasing falls of water to be found in the hills of the surrounding country, and though in grandeur that of the Mohawk stands pre-eminent, in beauty some may more than rival it. I have frequently been surprised, in the small section of this vast country that I have visited, to find, upon a more close examination, wild and romantic features in a landscape whose outline wore a character of mild beauty or dull uniformity; rocky glens, clothed with shaggy wood, and traversed by brawling streams, broken into cascades, are not unfrequently found in hills, rising gently out of vast and swampy plains, or skirting valleys, watered by placid rivers, whose banks of alluvial soil are rich with golden harvests.

During the era of steamboating on the Hudson River, incidents involving steamers running aground were rather rare and infrequent occurrences.  When one considers the large number of steamboats that once plied the waters of the Hudson, the absence at that time of today’s electronic devices such as radar and depth recorders, and the narrowness and shallowness of the upper river, the fact that groundings seldom did occur was a real tribute to the skill of the pilots.

I always have had a certain admiration for the skill of the pilots of the big steamers of the old Hudson River Night Line — the steamboats that served Albany and Troy.  The Albany steamers in particular, the “Berkshire” and the “C. W. Morse” later named the “Fort Orange," were the two largest steamboats ever built for service on the Hudson.  Unlike the Day Liners which operated only during daylight during the best months of the year, the Night Liners in their heyday obviously operated at night and from early spring until late fall when the thick fogs of the changing seasons were at their worst. 

The Albany night boats also until the very end of their careers never had the advantage of the deep channel that permitted ocean going vessels to reach Albany, for the so called deeper Hudson project wasn’t completed until 1930.  As a matter of fact, prior to that there was a big sand bar a few miles below Albany that combined with the "Fulton's" suction, caused the “Berkshire” to be stopped right dead in her tracks, aground on the bottom of the channel!  This grounding, of course, was momentary and since the bottom was sandy, it did no damage. 

Captain Edmund Wilson of the “Berkshire," however, had a few choice words not usually found in a dictionary directed at the captain and pilots of the “Robert Fulton."

This incident was related to me years later by Francis “Dick” Chapman who was pilot on the “Berkshire” at the time and later was pilot with me on the tugboat “Lion” of the Cornell Steamboat Company. 

The other incident took place nearly twenty years later in August 1935.  At that time, the Night Line had fallen on hard times and, in order to obtain revenues wherever they could, on weekends would run a series of moonlight sails out of Albany.  The steamer "Berkshire" would usually have the trip.  She would leave Albany and sail down river as far as Coxsackie or Stuyvesant where she would turn around and go back to Albany. 

On this particular night, the Cornell tugboat ‘‘Pocahontas’’ was going down river with the down tow with the tug "Wilson P. Foss’’ as her helper.  The “Berkshire” passed the tow off New Baltimore.  As the ‘‘Berker” was turning around at Lower Bronck’s Island, her bow got in the mud on the west bank of the narrow channel.  Try as she would, she couldn’t back off.  Finally, she blew five whistles for the “Foss” to come to her assistance. 

Captain Larry Gibbons of the "Foss" went down and put a line on her stern and pulled her off.  Since she was crossways in the river with a south wind and an ebb tide, the "Berkshire" couldn’t turn until the ‘‘Foss’’ shoved on her bow and got her headed upstream.  Maybe if fortunately there hadn't been a tug around to pull on her, it might have caused serious trouble to the "Berkshire, ” she being such a large steamboat. 

Actually, because of the difficult economic times, the “Berkshire" was being forced to make a turn around in a part of the river that was really too narrow for so large a steamer, something that was never envisioned she would be required to do in the service for which she was originally designed. 
​
The Great Depression of the 1930's continued its unrelenting predatory toll of steamboat services and in 1936 the "Berkshire" didn’t run at all.  She ran again in 1937, but this was to be her last year in service on the Hudson.  After Labor Day 1937, she was layed up for good and in 1941 was acquired by the Federal government.  That summer, the “Berkshire” was towed to Bermuda to house construction workers building the bases there acquired in the Roosevelt-Churchill bases for destroyers agreement of 1940.  After World War II, she was towed back to Philadelphia and broken up

Editor's Note: Article text is from a former museum exhibit at Hudson River Maritime Museum.

The Launching of Hendrick Hudson March 31, 1906 was a festive day in Newburgh. That morning, that shipbuilding city would witness the launching of the magnificent steamer Hendrick Hudson for the Hudson River Day Line. At the T.S. Marvel Shipbuilding Company's yard, the new flagship of the Day Line would make her initial plunge into the waters of the Hudson at eleven o'clock.

She was the line's flagship for only seven years, relinquishing it in 1913 to the slightly larger Washington Irving, but she regained her title and her former position of eminence in 1926 after the unfortunate sinking of Washington Irving in New York harbor.

Little Katharine Olcott, the daughter of the line's owner, performed the duties of the sponsor admirably when she smashed a bottle of Catskill Mountain water on the stem as she said, "I christen thee Hendrick Hudson."

White carrier pigeons were released from the vessel's deck as she moved down the ways. At that moment, the sun broke through the cloudy skies, the whistles of the vessels assembled at Newburgh that day were blown in a cacophonous chorus, and a cannon on the deck of the Day Liner New York was fired in salute.

A few moments later, the massive hull was afloat and in the charge of Cornell's  tug Hercules. It was indeed a day that Newburgh would long remember.

T. S. Marvel said, "I always use champagne…"

When Hendrick Hudson was built, the Hudson River Day Line did not serve alcohol aboard the vessels. The family of Eben E. Olcott, the line's owner, was strictly teetotal – particularly Mrs. Olcott. He proposed to christen his new steamer with water from the Catskill Mountains, and a bottle of this clear, shimmering liquid, gaily decorated with ribbons in the usual style, was handed to the sponsor, little Katherine Olcott, with her father looking on admiringly.

Thomas S. Marvel, the builder, absolutely refused to launch a vessel without the traditional champagne christening. He complied with Olcott's wishes – or so it seemed from the launching platform – but sent one of the shipyard men up to a saloon on South Water Street for a bottle of bubbly. The man soon returned from his mission.

With bottle in hand and well out of sight of Olcott, Thomas Marvel stationed himself near the aft end of the vessel, and when she began to move (and Katherine had christened her with the Catskill water), he smashed the bottle of champagne on her hull plates and quickly moved to safer ground.

​Hendrick Hudson was well and truly christened. The Olcotts never knew.

Editor's Note: The following text is a verbatim transcription of an article written by George W. Murdock, for the Kingston (NY) Daily Freeman newspaper in the 1930s. Murdock, a veteran marine engineer, wrote a regular column. Articles transcribed by HRMM volunteer Adam Kaplan. ​

“Here is a home-boat that more of the local residents will remember, and I think that she was one of the finest boats ever to appear on the Hudson river,” said Mr. Murdock, commenting on the “Thomas Cornell,” which sailed regularly out of the Rondout creek.
           
The “Thomas Cornell” was a wooden hull steamboat built in 1863 by E.S. Whitlock at Brooklyn. Her engine was constructed by the Morgan Iron Works at New York in 1852 and came from the lake steamboat “Southern Michigan.” She was 310 feet long, breadth of beam 34 feet, depth of hold 10 feet, gross tonnage 1,256, and powered with a vertical beam engine with a cylinder diameter of 72 inches and a 12 foot stroke.
           
She was built for Thomas Cornell of Rondout to take the place of the steamboat “Manhattan,” and as a companion vessel for the “James W. Baldwin,” running on the Rondout-New York night line. The “Thomas Cornell” was a steamboat of superior construction and was a fitting monument to the man whose name she bore. In addition to being strengthened by heavy hog-frames, the “Thomas Cornell” was a model of real beauty, complete in all of her fittings, luxurious in her passenger accommodations, plenty of room for carrying large freight cargoes, and possessing great speed. Her fastest trip was made in the summer of 1870, when she left New York at 4 o’clock in the afternoon, made her regular landings, and arrived at her berth in the Rondout creek at 8:50 p.m.
           
The “Thomas Cornell” went into service in the summer of 1863 and continued on the Rondout-New York route until 1882, when she was wrecked.
           
On March 27, 1882, she left Rondout on her regular schedule to New York, pulling away from the dock at 6 o’clock heavily loaded with freight and passengers. The weather was hazy and a drizzling rain was falling. At 8 o’clock when the “Thomas Cornell” was 10 miles below Poughkeepsie, a heavy fog settled over the river. Pilot Henry Briggs was at the wheel when suddenly, while proceeding at half speed, the great hull of the magnificent vessel crashed upon the rocks at Danskammer Point, about opposite New Hamburgh, where there was 30 to 40 feet of water at the stern. She immediately sank at the stern with her bow lodged high and dry on the rocks. The passengers climbed over the bow of the boat to the shore, where in the midst of a swamp, they built fires and huddled about them until the Poughkeepsie steamer “John L. Hasbrouck” came to their relief and took them off. No lives were lost, but the “Thomas Cornell’s” hog-frame was broken and she was so badly strained that she was abandoned.
           
​The wrecked hull was finally released and taken to Rondout, where her boilers and engine were removed. The hull was then sold, cut in two parts, and converted into two coal barges for Long Island Sound traffic. The engine was transported to Port Ewen, where a shanty was built over it, but it was never used and was finally scrapped.