I was awfully glad when a friend proposed a trip to Saratoga.  I had been awfully jolly in New York, but New York had gone out of town, leaving nothing but its streets and its tram-cars behind it.  In London we have such a perpetual flow of visitors — over one hundred thousand daily — that a fellow doesn't so much miss the "big crowd" as here, consequently when Saratoga was decided upon I felt extremely pleased indeed.  I had heard much of the palatial river steamers, and expected much.  I was down at Pier 41 at an early hour, and found the whole place occupied by one boat.  Such a boat! white as the driven snow, and larger than many an English village.  The people kept going into her until I imagined some game was up, and that they were stepping out at the other side.  No such thing; there was room for all ay, and more.  It was something immense to see the men getting into line for the ticket-office, with as much precision as if they were on parade.  No hurry, no crush, the regular "first come, first served" business, not as with us, when the biggest man comes to the front, and muscular Christianity tops over everything.  And the luggage! mountains of it, from enormous nickel-bound boxes, fit to carry Cleopatra's Needle, to dainty hand-bags, such as Queen Victoria's take with them when rushing at sixty miles an hour "Upon Her Majesty's Service.'

Near the gangway stood a handsome, gentlemanlike man, whose semi-naval uniform looked as though cut by Smallpage, of Regent Street.  This, I was informed, was Captain Roe, one of the most courteous and best-respected captains of the sea-like rivers of America.  I was instructed by my friend to take a state-room — at home I would have asked for a berth — and, paving paid my money, became intrusted with the key of a charming little bedroom, better fitted up than that of my club, and boasting an electric bell.  ...

A gong sounded for dinner, and, following a strong lead, as we do at whist, I found myself in a large, brilliantly-lighted apartment, set with several tables.  The menu was extensive enough to meet the requirements of the most exacting appetite, while the viands bore witness to skillful cookery.  After dinner I went for a stroll, yea, a veritable stroll — always striking against the bride and bridegroom — in a saloon picked out in white and gold, the chandeliers burning gas, and the motion being so imperceptible that the glass drops did not even waggle — on a carpet fit for Buckingham Palace, and in a grove of sumptuous furniture; then for'ard, where many gentlemen in straw hats were engaged in discussing the chances of General Grant for something or other, I know not what; then aft, where many ladies sat in picturesque traveling attitudes, gazing at the soft outlines of the shore on either hand, some alone and some doing the next best thing to flirting.
           
​What a sleep I had!  No more motion than if I was at the club.  No noise, no confounded fume of train-oil and its rancid confrères.  I slept like a humming-bird, and next morning found myself at Albany.  This place is on a hill, surmounted by a white marble building, and Capitol, which, when competed, will be an awfully imposing affair.  I took the train for Saratoga —  a drawing-room car — and such a boudoirette on wheels! —  I felt as if I was in a club-window all the time.

Saratoga is awfully jolly.  It is the best thing I have seen, with its main street as wide as the Boulevard Malesherbe or Haussman, and lined for a mile and a half with magnificent elms, which shade hotels as big as some European towns.  It is always thronged with carriages just like Rotten Row in the season, and lots of people on horseback.  The piazzas of the hotels are crowded with stunningly pretty girls, dressed, all over the place.  Overhead is an Italian sky, blue as sapphire, and a golden tropical light falls around, picking out the shadows in dazzling contrast.  "I guess," as the Americans say, I'll drive my stakes pretty deep here.

​            p. 50                                                                 July 7, 1801
Very suddenly conceived the design of voyaging up the Hudson river, as far as Albany.  Had heard much of the grandeur of its shores, but never had gone above ten miles from New York.  My friend C. having some leisure was willing to adventure for ten days or a fortnight, and I having still more, and being greatly in want of air and exercise, agreed to accompany him.  We found a most spacious and well furnished vessel, captain R.----- in which we embarked at sunset this day.  The wind propitious and the air wonderfully bland. 
p. 51     We bade adieu to our friends B.----- J.----- and D.----.  I took my post at the stern, and found much employment for my feelings, in marking through the dusk, the receding city and the glimmering lights; first of quays and avenues, and afterwards of farms and village.  It is just three years since my visit to New York in 1798.  an interval replete with events, various and momentous.  Some of them humiliating and disastrous, but, on the whole leading me to my present situation in which I have reason for congratulation. 
                                                                    
July 8, 1801
I write this seated in the cabin, from the windows of which, we have a view of wooded slopes, rocky promontories and waving summits.  Our attention has been, for some time, fixed upon Stony Point, a memorable post in the late war, a spot familiar to my ears since my infancy, but which I have now seen for the first time.  It is a rocky and rugged mass advancing into the river, the sides of which are covered with dwarf cedars, and the summit conspicuous still with some remains of fortification, a general solitude and vacancy around it, and a white cow grazing within the ruinous walls, produce a pleasing effect on my imagination.  A craggy eminence, crowned with the ruins of a fortress, is an interesting spectacle every where, but a very rare one in America.  I much wished to go ashore and ascend this hill, but it was not convenient.
           
What are called the highlands of the North river, are a mountainous district, through which the river flows for some miles.  I had heard much of the stupendous and alpine magnificence of the scenery.  We entered it this morning, with a mild breeze and serene sky, and the prospect hitherto has been soft and beautiful.  Nothing abrupt, rugged or gigantic.  Farms and cultivated fields seldom appear.  Six or eight vessels like our own, have been constantly in sight, and greatly enliven the scene.
           
We are now at anchor, have just dined.  My companions have gone to sleep.  The utmost stillness prevails.  Nothing to be heard but the buzzing of flies near at hand, and the (p. 52) cawing of distant crows.  We lay surrounded on all hands by loftier ridges, than I ever before saw bordered by water.
           
We have formed various conjectures as to the heights of these summits.  The captain's statements of five and six hundred feet are extravagant.  Three hundred would be nearer the truth.  Few or none of them are absolute precipices, but most of them are steep, and not to be scaled without difficulty.
           
​I have gazed at the passing scene from Stony Point to West Point, with great eagerness, and till my eye was weary and pained.  how shall I describe them.  I cannot particularize the substance of the rock, or the kind of tree, save oaks and cedars.  I am as little versed in the picturesque.  I can only describe their influence on me.

​My friend is a very diligent observer, and frequently betakes himself to the pen.  Heavy brows and languid blood has made me indolent, and I have done nothing but look about me, or muse for the last two days. 
           
On Thursday afternoon with a brisk southward gale and a serene sky, we left the highlands.  At the spot where the mountains recede from the river, the river expands into a kind of lake, about two miles wide and ten miles long.  The entrance is formed by cliffs, lofty, steep and gloomy with woods, which the borders of the lake itself are easy slopes, checkered with cultivated fields, farms and villages.
           
The highlands from the heights and boldness of the promontories and ruggedness of the rocks, and the fantastic shape the assume, fully answer the expectations which my friends had excited.  But the voyage over the lake, exceeded whatever my fancy had pictured of delightful.  Three populous villages, Peekskill, New Windsor and Newburg, and innumerable farms decorate its borders.
           
Yesterday we moved but slowly, the wind becoming adverse.  At noon we drew into a wharf at Red-hook, and remained there till evening.  My friend and I seized the opportunity of wandering.  The river bank is lofty, and wooded as usual, but no wise remarkable.

p. 53     Some hours before, a waving and bluish line in the horizon reminded us of the Kaats-kill mountains.  These are seen very advantageously from Red-hook, distant about twenty miles, and appear of stupendous height.  Their elevation has been ascertained, but I do not recollect what it is.
           
We roamed along the shore and among the bushes, highly pleased with the exercise, and concluded our rambles with a bathing in the river.  In leaving the sloop, I left most of my sluggish feelings behind me, and walked enough to make the night's repose acceptable and sound.
           
With the tide to favour us we left Red-hook at eight o'clock, but were obliged to anchor again before morning.  At six o'clock my friend and I accompanied the captain ashore, in search of milk and blackberries.  I have since seated myself on deck, watching the shore, as the breeze carried us along.  My friend is busy with his spy glass, reconnoitering the rocks and ay stacks, and surveying the wharves and store houses of Lunenburg and Hudson, villages we have just passed.  I have observed but little besides a steep bank, roughened by rocks and bushes, occasionally yielding to slopes of a parched and yellowish soil, with poor cottages sparingly scattered, and now and then a small garden or field of corn.  A fellow passenger left us at Hudson.  One only remaining, a Mr. H.---- of Albany, a well behaved man, whose attention is swallowed up by Mrs. Bennet's "Beggar Girl." [Editor's Note: A 7 volume work by Anna Maria Bennett in 1797 "The Beggar Girl and Her Benefactors"]
           
The sloop's crew consists of captain, mate, a man and a boy as cook; all orderly, peaceful obliging persons. The cabin being perfectly clean and comfortable, and provisions plentiful and good, we have no reason to regret the delays occasioned by adverse winds, and by calms.  I have some vacant moments when a book might amuse. The captain's whole stock consists of a book on navigation, Dillworth's Arithmetic, and Goldsmith's Citizen of the World.  I have looked into the last, but it does not please me.  The fiction is ill supported, the style smooth and elegant, but the sentiments and observations far from judicious or profound.
           
The mate has been telling me his adventures.  A very crude and brief tale it was, but acceptable and pleasing to me.  (p. 54)  A voyage round the globe is a very trivial adventure, now-a-days.  This man has been twice to Nootka, thence to Canton, and thence to Europe and home.  He performed one whaling voyage to Greenland, and was fifteen months a seaman in a British seventy-four.  His South Sea voyage occupied eighteen months, during which there was neither sickness nor death among the crew.

Racing of Steamboats. – We are sorry to learn that the practice of putting certain steamboats to a competition of speed, on the North River, has been resumed this season.  This practice is in itself highly reprehensible, and in the present state of alarm, in consequence of the late fatal explosion on board the General Jackson, it is an act of disrespect to the passengers, and to those of a more timid make, particularly ladies, an act of absolute cruelty.  If the proprietors of the boats engaged in this practice were to give fair notice – if they were to advertise that on such a day there would be a trial of speed between certain boats – that people would not then be landed at Colwell's and West Point, and other usual landing places along the river – that the steam would not be let off at the few places where the boats stopped to leave or take in passengers; and that those only who were willing to risk their lives under such circumstances, were desired to become passengers, then all would be fair.  Those who liked to witness the sport, and were willing to run the hazard of being blown up, could then go on board; and those who preferred a safe and comfortable passage, could take some other boat.  Besides the alarm and terror of the passengers, there are other inconveniences.  A gentleman sets out with his family, on a trip of pleasure, to go to West Point.  In spite of his remonstrance, he is carried by West Point, and landed at Newburgh, amidst a mob of people, assembled at the wharf to witness the race between the boats.  Here he is obliged to stay in a grog shop for several hours, waiting for a boat to come along and take him down again to his place of destination.  In the meantime, his only amusement is to witness the tumultuous excitement which the strife between the boats has created among the people who are divided into regular factions on the subject; and who celebrate, as we are informed, the victory of a favorite boat, with discharges of rockets, and other fire-works. New-York Evening Post, June 27, 1831, p. 2, col. 1
​

Hyde Park, Sunday, Sept. 14. -- We left Albany at half-past six this morning, in the steamboat "Champlain."  There is a violent opposition between two lines of boats.  The fare to New York is fifty cents.  We were contending with the "Nimrod" all the way down, and for five or six miles before we reached Hyde Part landing, the boats were in contact, both pushing furiously at the top of their speed, and we and our trunks were pitched ashore like bundles of hay.  The people at the landing being all in favour of the opposition, except Dr. Hosack himself, nobody would take a line, and we might have drowned without an arm being reached to save .
            
September 16. -- We left Hyde Park and came on board the "Champion," an opposition boat, at half-past twelve o'clock.  The "Albany," passed the landing a few minutes in advance, but did not stop.  Our boat had three or four hundred passengers, and such a set of ragtag and bobtail I never saw on board a North-river steamboat -- the effect of the fifty-cent system.  If the people do not rise up in their might and put a stop to the racing and opposition, it will be better to return to the primitive mode of travelling in Albany sloops.  I would rather consume three or four days in the voyage, than be made to fly in fear and trembling, subject to every sort of discomfort, with my life at the mercy of a set of fellows whose only object is to drive their competitors off the river.  Philip Hone, The Diary of Philip Hone, 1828-1851, Bayard Tuckerman, ed., N. Y.: Dodd, Mead, 1889, vol. I, pp. 111-12, entries of September 14 & 16, 1834.  

​On the bitter cold winter night of December 16, 1835 a fire caused by a burst gas pipe ignited by a coal stove broke out in lower Manhattan and burned for hours. The gale-force winds spread the flames rapidly across 17 city blocks. The frozen East River and Hudson River hampered the fire-fighting efforts. 

More than 600 wood frame buildings were destroyed. The Hudson River Brick Industry flourished during the rebuilding process as more durable brick replaced the former wooden buildings. Watch at www.hrmm.org/lecture-series for upcoming Follow the River Lectures in 2023 to learn more about the Great Fire and the Brick Industry. Come visit the brick exhibit at the Hudson River Maritime Museum.

​Listen as The History Guy gives more details.

This song is a bundle of Victorian references which I'll let you look up for yourselves, but is also a uniquely windjammer song. I'd like to focus on those elements, more than the other content, as the song was from the late 19th century, when steam and sail had diverged, but both were still going strong.

There's a number of references which all indicate this is a windjammer sailor's song: Setting Sail, of course is obvious, but others are not. Doldrum Grounds are unique to windjamming, as a motor vessel doesn't care if the wind stops. Slacking neither tacks nor sheets is an expression for fast cruising, or maintaining all possible speed, but steamships have none of these parts of square-sail rigging. Rocks and Shoals are dangerous to almost any vessel, but especially to sailing vessels off a lee shore, where the wind can drive a sailing ship on the rocks while a motor ship could employ its engines to move off from the hazard.

This remnant of windjamming has survived in several recordings, and uses various years, all from the mid-to-late 19th century, after steam propulsion became common, so it is likely to have been something that differentiated between sailors with the two separate skillsets for the different types of vessels. Regardless, now it is simply a good song in the queue for those of us ashore. 

LYRICS:
'Twas in the year of '94 and I think of March the 20th day
I thought I'd have a little cruise from the Well Street home to Tiger Bay
As I rolled through old Wappin street, 'twas there I met a pretty maid
She gave me a kiss and she lifted her skirts, her legs were all in fine array

[Chorus]
Whack fol the looray looray laido whack fol the looray looray lay
Whack fol the looray looray lay hurrah for the pilots of Tiger Bay!

When we set sail it was quite late, it was the hour of ten at night
We never slacked a tack nor a sheet 'til we came to the house of Mother Wright
And when I saw that cosy room, I there resolved to stay next day
So I took that gal for me harbour dues and she piloted me down to Tiger Bay

[Chorus]

Then in the morning when I woke, I found myself in doldrum grounds
But the madam wouldn't let me go until I had spent twenty pounds
Says I to myself: this'll never do, I'll jump this bark without delay
So I took a slant for the Well Street home from the rocks and shoals of Tiger Bay

[Chorus]

Now when I got back to the Well Street home I met my mate in the smoker there
He shouted: Jack, where the hell have you been? You seem to be in ballast there
I hung my head, not a word I'd say, I got me another ship that day
And if I ever go to London again I'll take another cruise down to Tiger Bay

[Chorus]

To all you young fellers in this room I've only got one word to say
Whenever you meet a pretty little maid just lead her gently by the way
There's many an ups and downs in the world, and many a pretty girl down the highway
But the prettiest ones that you'll ever see are the pilots down in Tiger Bay

[Chorus]

​

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A Ship is the largest kind of vessel which is used to transport or carry the produce or merchandise of one country or nation across the sea or ocean to another country.
           
A Ship has three masts, which are long poles that stand upright like the body of a tree.  The rigging consists of cloth-sails, yards, roped, braces, &c.  The body of the Ship is called the hull or hulk.  In one part of the hull are the boxes, barrels, &c., containing goods and, in the other part is a cabin or little room where the men on board the Ship eat and sleep.
           
The sails of the Ship are spread out or extended by means of the ropes, yards, &c., and then it is blown along by the wind upon the water.  Sometimes it goes eight or ten miles an hour, or more.  When the wind is very violent, the Ship is sometimes driven ashore upon the rocks and dashed to pieces.  Sailors who navigate Ships are often several years on a voyage, and many months without seeing land.  They often undergo great hardships, sometimes being a number of days without food, and also suffer much from the wet and cold, being obliged frequently to work during storms.
           
There can not be a more beautiful and majestick sight than a Ship at sea with all sails full spread.
           
There are various kinds of vessels, of different names, depending on the number of masts and shape of the rigging. Brig has two masts, and, like a Ship, is square rigged.  A Schooner has two masts, also, but is not square rigged.  A Sloop has but one mast, and is not square rigged.  Sloops and Schooners seldom go out to sea.  They are, in general, employed in going from place to place, along the seacoast.  Sometimes, however, they go to the West Indies and carry pork, flour, &c., and bring back molasses, sugar, coffee, &c.

Steam-Boats are used carry passengers, produce, and merchandise, up and down large rivers, lakes, and bays. They are also frequently used to carry passengers and merchandise from one place to another along the seacoast.
           
They are called Steam-Boats because they are moved or forced along the water by the power of steam. The steam engine which moves the wheels is a powerful machine.  The men first put a great deal of water into a large boiler, which they heat very hot; and, when the water is thus heated it produces a great deal of steam, which goes into the engine through a pipe.  The steam, which is very powerful, tries to escape or force itself out of the engine; and, in doing this, it sets the wheels in motion; and the wheels of the engine, being connected with the two large wheels each side of the Steam-Boat, which are placed in the water, cause them to be turned round in the water which makes the Steam-Boat pass along rapidly from eight to fifteen miles an hour.
           
Steam-Boats are, in general, fitted up very neatly and have a number of rooms for passengers to eat and sleep in.
           
Travelling by Steam-Boat is very pleasant as well as expeditious.  There is some danger, however, as the boiler, which contains the hot water, sometimes bursts and scalds the passengers to death.  But perhaps it is as safe as to travel in stages; for, they are often upset and the passengers badly hurt.
           
The first Steam-Boat was invented by Robert Fulton in the city of New York.  They are now used very extensively on the lakes, rivers, and bays in the United States as well as in Europe; and, we can scarcely imagine how to do without them now, as they will ascend rivers against the tide and current, and the wind also; when sloops, schooners, &c., would not be able to sail at all. 

Canal-Boats are used to carry produce, merchandise, and sometimes passengers on the Canal.  these boats are always drawn by a horse or horses.  Canal-Boats or the largest size are drawn by two or three horses, and the smaller ones by one horse.
           
Canals are basins or courses of water, which are made through countries where there are not natural rivers, lakes, or bays, for sloops, schooners, or steam-boats, to pass on.  In some places the Canals are cut through rocks; sometimes they are carried over rivers or creeks in aqueducts or over culverts. It is a delightful sight to see a Canal-Boat, loaded with passengers or goods, passing through farms, over rivers, and through wilderness countries.
           
Travelling by Canal-Boat is not as rapid as by Stage-Coaches or Steam-Boats. There are a great many Canals in this country now which are of great importance to commerce, and to those who wish to emigrate or remove from one country to another.  The longest Canal in the United States, and the one on which there are the most Canal-Boats used, is the Hudson and Erie Canal, from Albany on the Hudson River, to Buffalo at the foot of Lake Erie.  Its length is three hundred and sixty-three miles.  This Canal is carried across the Mohawk River twice; and also across the Genesee River at the city of Rochester.
           
If all the produce and merchandise which are now carried on the Canal in boats, should be drawn in wagons by horses as formerly, there would scarcely be room on the Great Western Road for them to pass each other.
           
Canal-Boats move very slowly, from three to five miles an hour.

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While very typical of her class, the Hobah's career is especially long, spanning 66 years. She was engaged on trade routes which were fully developed by the 17th century, and active through the early 20th. Those routes have been mapped by Oliver Dunn and a team of historians, and span the entirety of the British coast. Like many other late sail freighters, she carried mostly bulk cargos around areas with underdeveloped land transportation networks before the introduction of fossil-fueled trucks, and was quite successful.​

You can read more about the Hobah's career here. ​