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Editor's note: The following excerpts are from the "Jamestown (NY) Journal" 1858-1859.. Thank you to Contributing Scholar George A. Thompson for finding, cataloging and transcribing this article. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. How we smile now at the bungling expedient for rapid traveling that prevailed twenty years ago. By canal boats from Troy through the nine locks at a cent and a half a mile, and board yourself. By packet from Schenectady west, drawn by three horses, on a slow trot, and three days to Buffalo. And up and down yonder hill crept the first railroad, with cars hung on thoroughbraces, and seats for nine inside, and some outside, which were dragged up an inclined place one hundred and eight feet to the half mile, by a stationary engine, and then over the sand plains to the head of State street in Albany. And this was then such a triumph of engineering. What a change! where our fathers crept we fly. The mountains they climb, we tunnel. The hills they toiled up, we level, or divide by a deep cut, thrown arches over ravines at them impassible. . . . Jamestown Journal (Jamestown, N. Y.), July 16, 1858, p. 2 Correspondence of the Journal. VACATION LETTERS, . . . NO. 4. To New York over the Erie Rail Road -- Sleeping Cars -- New York to New Haven . . . . *** On arriving at Dunkirk, we boarded the Night Express, and took our seats in the luxuriously furnished sleeping car, determining to try the virtue of this boasted institution. Lodgings were furnished at 50 cents a man. My little girl who accompanied me was stowed in without extra charge. There were 40 berths in the car, four in each tier, one double birth at the bottom and two above. The upper berths were cane seated frames, the ends of which were fixed into sockets, while the bottoms of the lower were of wood. All were covered with nice hair mattresses, and pillows enclosed by damask curtains, making a very handsome appearance. About nine o'clock the chambermaid who was a buxom, round faced laddie [sic], made up the berths and we turned in. There were about thirty sleepers in the car. *** Think of sleeping in a car, rushing at the rate of thirty miles an hour, along the brink of lofty precipices, leaping black ravines, threading deep cuts, mounting lofty viaducts, and careering through some of the most splendid scenery in the world. ** Jamestown Journal (Jamestown, N. Y.), September 2, 1859, p. 2 [Editor's Note: He remembers the Green Mountains of his childhood] Yet when I visit that place it is all changed. The old forest is gone, the speckled trout have forsaken the pools; the streams are dried up, or flow in straight spade-cut channels, the roaring branch is trained through sluices, or broken over water-wheels. *** Jamestown Journal (Jamestown, N. Y.), July 16, 1858, p. 2 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: The following are excerpts from NY Herald, September 7, 1857, p. 1, cols. 1-5 -- The New York Ferries. Thank you to Contributing Scholar George A. Thompson for finding, cataloging and transcribing this article. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. THE NEW YORK FERRIES. Visit of Inspection of One of the Herald Reporters to each Boat and Ferry Landing, and what he saw there -- Condition of Boats, and Means taken for Life Saving *** EAST RIVER. EIGHTY-SIXTH STREET OR HELL GATE FERRY. This ferry has but two boats, the Astoria, of 119 tons, built in 1840, and the Sunswick, of 129 tons, built in 1848. They are both built after the same primitive style of the Hoboken ferry boats. . . . *** Wednesday of every week this ferry is almost entirely converted into a cattle ferry, a large number crossing on almost every boat, which renders it anything but pleasant or agreeable for foot passengers. *** GREENPOINT, TENTH AND TWENTY-THIRD STREET FERRIES. THE TRIPS. The Tenth street ferry has two boats on from four o'clock in the morning until nine o'clock at night, so that one boat leaves the slip on either side of the river every ten minutes during those hours. From nine o';clock until quarter past one at night there is but one boat on, making twenty minute trips, after that hour, up to four o'clock in the morning, no boat runs. On the Twenty-third street ferry there is but one boat running from six o';clock in the morning up to ten o'clock at night, making fifteen minute trips. . . . THE LIGHTS. This company have set an example worthy of following by some of the other companies in respect to lighting their ferry slips, bridges and passenger ways at night, there being ten large gas lights inside of the ferry gates, two of them being at the end of each bridge. The boats all present a neat and clean appearance, the ladies cabins all being well cushioned. . . . *** Most of the business done by the ferry . . . is by the crossing of country wagons. . . . A very large number of funerals, also cross this ferry daily on their way to Calvary Cemetery. The foot passing over these ferries is as yet quite insignificant, owing in great measure to the fact that there is no shipbuilding or other mechanical business of any account going on at Greenpoint at present, and the fact that fever and ague abounds in the village of Greenpoint to a greater or less extent during the warm weather. HOUSTON STREET FERRY. *** The boats are usually kept in cleanly and comfortable condition, with the exception of lights in the cabins at night, which are very deficient, they being scarcely sufficient for passengers, sitting opposite each other to discern the precise complexion of their neighbor's countenance, much less to read by. . . . Two boats are kept running from five o'clock in the morning until ten o';clock at night. . . . After ten o'clock at night there is but one boat running until five in the morning. . . . *** PECK SLIP, DIVISION AVENUE AND GRAND STREET FERRIES. [Editor's Note: long discussion of the lack of accommodations] THE JAMES SLIP AND SOUTH TENTH STREET FERRY. [began running last May] The boats of this ferry are the "George Law", of 400 tons, one year old, and "George Washington", 400 tons, the same age, both of which are double decked, clean, commodious and well cushioned. *** The bridges on each side of the river are forty feet long, and thirty feet wide, on floats. The houses each have two fine sitting rooms for ladies and gentlemen, the seats in all of which are handsomely cushioned, the same as the ladies; cabins on the boats. *** The pilots employed on the boats of this company are quite too careless and reckless of human life. . . . *** UNION FERRY COMPANY. [Fulton Ferry: 4 boats; Wall street Ferry: 2 boats; Atlantic, or South street Ferry, 3 boats; Hamilton Avenue Ferry, 4 boats; Roosevelt street Ferry, 2 boats; Catherine street Ferry, 2 boats] *** South ferry run three boats every five minutes from 5 in the morning until 10 o'clock at night, and two up to 12 o';clock, after which there is one untill 5 in the morning. The Hamilton avenue ferry runs four boats during the day and one all night, as fast as they can be run. The Fulton ferry has four boats on all day and two on all night. The Catherine and Roosevelt street ferries have two boats on all day, and one all night at the Catherine ferry, and one on up to nine o'clock on the Roosevelt street ferry. The Wall street ferry has two boats on during the day, and one on from six in the evening until twelve at night, when both are drawn off until four o'clock in the morning. [a new boat is being built, that will have gas lights in the cabins] JERSEY CITY FERRY. *** [among the boats on this ferry is the] "John S. Darcy", built in 1857, tonnage 700, and one hundred horse poser engine. . . . This boat has just been put on the ferry, and is a perfect floating palace. She is lit up with gas, which is introduced in tanks . . . ; these tanks being filled and taken on board as often as necessary. *** Three boats are run on the Jersey city ferry from 4 o'clock in the morning until half-past 10 o'clock, making about ten minute trips. From half-past ten at night until four in the morning two boats are run, making half hour trips. THE HOBOKEN FERRIES. This ferry being the principal breathing outlet to the city, especially for women and children, who desire to take a sail during the warm weather, and the thousands who daily visit Hoboken, of all sexes and ages for pleasure, it is something to be regretted that the present owner of the several ferries, Edwin A. Stevens, Esq., does not take more active means to provide against any accident of emergency which is so liable to arise at any moment, especially on boats so continually crowded as those are with females and children. *** The following are the names and ages of the boats owned on these ferries: -- BARCLAY STREET FERRY James Watts, built in 1851, tonnage 312 31-95. Patterson, built in 1854; tonnage 360 62-95. CANAL STREET FERRY John Fitch, built in 1845, tonnage 125 75-95. CHRISTOPHER STREET FERRY Phoenix, registered in the custom house as Fairy Queen, built in 1826, and subsequently cut in two, and about 70 feet added to her middle. She is 141 81-95 tons burden. SPARE BOATS. Chancellor Livingston, built in 1852; tonnage 457 61-95. Newark, built in 1827; tonnage 175 17-95. Hoboken, built in 1822; tonnage 322 20-95 These boats are all built in the primitive style, with but one carriage way, and no separate passage for foot passengers. [their life boats] The John Fitch has a metallic life boat the proper length. The Hoboken, which issued on the Christopher street ferry as a cattle boat, is without any boat, corks, boat hooks, ladders, floats, or any conveniences whatever for saving life, with the exception of one old cork life preserver, hung on the upper deck. The boats on the Newark and Phoenix are miserable concerns and unfit for use. . . . Those on the other four boats are better, but not such as should be provided, with the single exception of the metallic boat. Each of the six boats, are otherwise supplied with from five to six cork buoys, only one of which on either boat is supplied with a lanyard, and one pike pole, all of which are kept tied to braces on the upper decks of the boat, and consequently would be of . . . little purpose . . . in the event of an unlooked for accident. . . . The Phoenix is said by those who should know to be unsafe, and entirely unfit for use as a ferry boat. *** The ferry bridges are for the most part swing bridges, the only suitable ferry house being that at the foot of Barclay street. On the Hoboken side carts and wagons are driven in every direction at hap hazard, inside of the gates promiscuously among the passengers, rendering it anything but agreeable or safe for foot passengers, especially during the busy portions of the day. 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 from the "Brooklyn Standard-Union" newspaper August 21, 1891. Thank you to Contributing Scholar George A. Thompson for finding and cataloging this article. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. On a Canal Boat. How Men, Women and Children Live Down in the Cabin – Babies Born and Die on Board – In Season and Out of Season the Cabin in the Family Home – The Hard Lot of the Women. She was a small-featured woman, with very light blue eyes and her fair skin bronzed by the water. We were sitting on the roof of the cabin of her husband's canal boat, at the foot of Coenties Slip. "Yes, miss," she replied to my question, "I live and my husband and children live down stairs in that cabin, year in and year out. Two of my children, one boy and one girl, were born downstairs. One of them, the girl, died there two years ago, while the boat laid up for the winter at the foot of Canal Street." Here the poor woman's voice faltered, as she took an end of her gingham apron to wipe the tears. "We thought the world of that little girl, Miss. She was as pretty as a picture, and gentle as a little lamb. I blame the doctor to this day for her death, that I do. The minute she was took sick my husband went for to bring him, and sez he, 'Oh, it's nothing, only the measles, so don't cher be alarmed." "I believe in me heart that the poor little thing was a-dying then. She died the next mornin', an' – an –' we buried her in the cemetery along with his father (her husband's) and mother. There was a hammock swinging between two poles on top of the cabin, near where we sat. In it lay a beautiful little golden-haired boy, fast asleep. It was the woman's baby, and whenever it was asleep up there she sat by his side, sewing or knitting, and keeping a close watch. It was a dangerous place for baby, for should he tumble out he would roll into the water. "Jimmie, Jimmie," suddenly called the woman, "come up here and watch your little brother, as I wants to go downstairs." Jimmie, who was evidently an obedient boy, … rushed upstairs from the cabin, banging the mosquito net doors after him as he came out. "This is my big boy," said the woman, looking up fondly at Jimmie. Boy-like, Jimmie barely glanced at me, contracted his brow and pulled the old straw hat down over his eyes as he took the seat his mother had vacated. "Come now, miss," said the woman, "I will show you how we live downstairs." We went down six steps covered with bright oilcloth and brass tips, all as clean and shiny as could be. The cabin was divided into three apartments – bedroom, kitchen and sitting room, in which there was an extra bunk for the grown-up daughter, who was away at the time. The kitchen was a mere hole, a stove and a few cooking utensils occupying the entire space. The bedroom was a little larger. It contained a three-quarter bed covered with linen of snowy whiteness, and one chair on which lay folded a number of quits and one pillow, doubtless to be spread on the floor for the big boy that night. The sitting or living room was about ten feet long and eight feet wide. The floor was covered with the same kind of oilcloth as that on the stairs; the furniture consisted of a bureau, two chairs, one rocking chair, of a green painted cottage bedroom suit, a round walnut table, a machine, and one extra brown chair. The woodwork was grained, and the ceiling and walls painted white. Two long closets, one for dishes and one for clothes, were built in one side of the wall; also a half dozen drawers. The walls were plentifully decorated with highly colored chromos, and these two texts: "Give us this day our daily bread." "Thou shalt not kill." In that crowded abode, a man, a woman, a girl of fourteen, a boy of twelve and a baby two years old lived, as the woman said, "year in and year out." I took the extra brown chair the woman offered me, which I presume they reserve for company. "Yes, mam, sometimes we do feel a bit crowded, but I reckon it's no worse than many of the folks who live in them awful tenement houses." "Do you know, mam, I could never feel contented in one of them places? We lives by ourselves here with no neighbors to pry into our business." "Oh, yes, some of us go to church whenever we are ashore on Sunday." "There is a Mr. McGuire that comes down here every Lord's day and preaches on the dock. He is 'Piscopal, I think, but he is a fine man all the same." "We are Catholic, but we believe in letting everybody enjoy their own religion. My husband and me ain't no ways bigoted." "Oh, certainly, my children goes to school in winter. We always spend the winter in New York, and it is there that we send them to the public school." "The children in New York are very rude. They have a way of teasing mine for living on a boat. 'And do yez eat off the floor?' they say to Mamie sometimes. Yes, them children behave very badly." While the woman was talking the screen door opened with a jerk, and a girl dressed in a deep green woolen frock and a black straw sailor hat came down the cabin stairs. "This is my daughter," said the woman. "She has been visiting in Brooklyn." The girl, who had a rather pleasant face, smiled at me without bowing, and then sat down and stared. The woman, addressing the girl, said: "This lady wanted to see how people lived on a canal boat, so I brought her down. We like to have company once in a while," she went on, "for it's lonely enough at times, the dear knows." The girl continued to stare, as she kept playing with the elastic on her hat. The boat we were on ran between New York and Canada, [editor's note: via the Champlain Canal] and the woman, who was of a descriptive turn of mind, told me just how the trips were made. It took forty-eight hours for a tug to tow them to Albany; from Albany they went to Troy, and then for sixty-eight miles the horses pulled the boat up the canal. On the other end of the canal a Canadian tug brought them to their destination. After telling me all this we went up on deck again, and there the woman explained how she managed her washing. I saw a wash-board lying on the floor of a small rowboat that stood alongside of the hammock in which the clothes were washed. The "men folks," the woman said, usually carried the water, and she did the rest. Then clothes were dried underneath the canvas. I next asked the woman what her husband carried on his boat. "He carries different things," said she. "This time he carries what they calls 'merchandise.'" Just then a wagonload of rosin came to be packed on board. I left the family standing by the side of the baby, as I went farther up the deck, where I engaged in conversation with the captain of another canal boat. I found him just as accommodating and as obliging as the woman I had talked with. "Certainly, mam, you can go down in the cabin. You will find my wife there, and she'll talk to you." This man and wife were not so cramped as some of their neighbors, for they had no children. I found the man's wife a clever woman, but not nearly so philosophical about living on a canal boat as her neighbor. She told me that this was her third summer on the water, and that it was going to be her last. She spent most of her time making fancy work for her friends. Her apartments were clean as wax, and judging from the arrangement of the furniture, curtains and pictures, she was a woman of some refinement. She was a great sight-seer, too. She always made it a point to visit the places of interest in all cities where they stopped. She had been to a great many downs between Albany and Philadelphia. She had been married to the captain fifteen years, but she could never accustom herself to life on a canal boat. She would be happier on land. On either side of the two boats were a dozen other boats, some loading and some unloading their freight, and on all of them were women and on most of them children. But the thought of human beings spending most of their time penned up as the women and children on these boats are obliged to be, recalls once more that timely question: "Does one-half of the world know or care how the other half lives?" That more of these canal boat children are not drowned is a wonder, and that more of the women do not lose their times is equally surprising. It is sad to reflect on the emptiness and monotony of their lives. – [original article written by Emma Trapper, in Brooklyn Standard-Union.] (Editor's note: Canalboat families worked hard but some found life aboard these boats wholesome and at times pleasurable. While difficult to measure and compare, the standard of living among boat families on the canals was likely higher than that of many urban laborers.) 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 from articles printed in the New York City area newspapers in 1895 and 1920.. Thank you to Contributing Scholar Carl Mayer for finding, cataloging and transcribing this article. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. SPOONING PARTIES. How These Commendable Aids to Matrimony Should Be Conducted. “Spooning” parties are popular in some quarters. They take their name from a good old English word which was intended to ridicule the alleged fantastic actions of a young man or a young woman who is in love. For some reason, which no one ever could explain, everybody pokes fun at the lover. In fact, that unhappy character is never heroic in real life, no matter what great gobs of heroism are piled about him on the stage, and in all the romantic story books. The girl in love and the boy in love are said to be “spoony.” When a “spooning" party is given, the committee in charge of the event receives a spoon from each person who attends, or else presents each guest with a spoon. These spoons are fancifully dressed in male and female attire, and are mated either by the similarity of costume or by a distinguishing ribbon. The girls and boys whose spoons are mates are expected to take care of each other during the continuance of the social gathering. Of course the distribution of the spoons is made with the greatest possible carefulness, the aim being to so place them as to properly fit the case of the young people to whom they are presented. The parties are usually given by the young people of some neighborhood where the personal preference of each spoony is well known, and they are the source of no end of fun. It is possible also that they serve as aids to matrimony as well, and are therefore commendable, since an avowal is made more easy to a diffident swain after he feels that his passion is not a secret, but that his weakness for a ‘‘spoony'’ maiden is known to his friends and enemies on the committee which dispenses the spoons. It may be mentioned that after the spoons have been distributed among the guests, each couple retires for consultation regarding the reasons which caused the award of mated spoons in their case. This consultation is known by the name of "spooning.’’--St. Louis Republic .via The Yonkers Herald, June 24, 1895 High Cost of Living leads to loss of the Courting Parlor “Don't love in Gotham-- You've got no place to go; You can't hide in the subway Or on the roofs, you know! The cop that's on the corner Has got his eye on you-- Don't love in Gotham-- You'll be ‘pinched’ if you do!" SO sang Tom Masson—or, in words to that effect—some ten years ago, but the tragi-comic warning is just ten times as true this summer. For one of the problems of 1920 in merry old Manhattan is the H. C. of L., which in this connection should be translated the High Cost of Loving! Cupid knows it always has been a dilemma for New Yorkers. In all the side streets, east or west, there isn’t a piazza with rambler roses curtaining it and a hammock swung across one comer, there isn't a circular seat built around a drooping elm or broad spreading maple, there isn't a lovers' lane or a Ben Bolt “nook by a cool running brook.” No got. No can do. But now courting must be conducted between the devil of the profiteering landlord and the deep sea of propriety. For the simple truth is that almost no New Yorker can afford have a parlor for his daughter's beaux, that daughter herself can't find a house with a parlor in it, if she ls boarding. The rent laws passed at Albany do not prevent anybody from ejecting Cupid. And he is quite literally put out on the sidewalk—or into the park. The easiest way for the “new poor” —the thousands with stationary salaries—to pay their rent is simply to let an outsider pay rent for that extra room, once the courting parlor. The tenements long ago learned to use the “roomer" to cope with the landlord. The flats and apartments are profiting by the lesson. As for the boarding-house landladies, who can blame those harassed women for filing every room under their roofs to help pay the butcher and the baker? President Hibben of Princeton was complaining recently about the frankness and lack of reserve between the young men and women of to-day, but even these candid souls have not reached the point where they'll do their courting in the bosom of their families. If the parlor and solitude a deux is not for them, then neither is the family living room! Hence it is that there never were so many spooners in Central Park as there are to-day—I mean to-night. Every bench is a kissing bench. And the rush is such that two loving couples often are forced to seek accommodations on the same bench! Not even the rain drives them off. When it pours too hard they simply seek refuge in the tunnels. The Park cops are being worn out by their job as civic chaperones [sic]; the Park squirrels, from being interested, and then shocked, are now merely bored. And the deep sea of propriety is much vexed. “How can nice girls make love so publicly!” indignantly exclaim the old maids of either sex. "Nothing like that goes with us," declares the Hudson River Day Line, or, to quote exactly its recent announcement, “All spooning is tabooed from the decks of the boats. We request that the conduct of the young people shall be above criticism. The young women can help largely to control the situation.” Maybe they can—if they take Mr. Masson's advice and "don't love in Gotham.” But if a nice young clerk is so ill advised as to fall in love with a nice young stenographer, will you tell me just how they can do their courting? He can't “say it with flowers.” Theatre tickets, candy—nice candy. There articles are in the luxury class, nowadays, even for ardent lovers. She has no parlor in which she can receive him. They can't afford to go to a decent restaurant and buy enough lemonades, after dinner, to give them the privilege of spending the evening there. There remain the park, the seat on top of the bus, the Coney Island boat —public enough, heaven knows, but at least populated by strangers and not by a too observant family. There is also the sapient scheme of the rookie who took his girl to the Pennsylvania Station, rushed to the gate with her when a train was announced, bade her a fond, an osculatory farewell—then sneaked back to the waiting room and encored the performance when the gates were opened for the next departing train and the next and the next! Who knows but the much criticized cheek-to-check dancing is not merely a pathetic attempt to make love in the face of a cold and hostile world? “Romance is dead, but all unseen romance jazzed up at nine-fifteen, to paraphrase Mr. Kipling. But don't let anybody think he has solved the housing problem until he brings back the beau parlor or gives us a just-as-good substitute. From the New York Evening World, July 14, 1920 DAY LINE TABOOS SPOONING - Hudson Boats to Have Community Song Services. Beginning yesterday, “spooning" was tabooed on the boats of the Hudson River Day Line. Thousands of circulars will be distributed today setting forth the new "directions" of Ebon E. Olcott, the President. "We have said many times that some share of the comfort and enjoyment of the Sunday boat rides rests with each and every one on board.” says the circular. "Will you help us make the memory of these trips wholesome and full of enjoyment? We request that the conduct of the young people shall be above criticism. ... ." There will be a "community service" on the boats each Sunday and a religious service at Pavilion No. 2, at Bear Mountain. From The New York Times, June 13, 1920. Find a summary of this topic here. 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 from articles printed in the New York Times in February, 1860. Thank you to Contributing Scholar Carl Mayer for finding, cataloging and transcribing this article. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. New York Times - 1860-02-15 page 8 Bloody Affray on the Ice at Port Ewen. - TWO MEN KILLED, ONE FATALLY WOUNDED, AND ANOTHER BADLY HURT. Great excitement has existed in and around Port Ewen, Ulster County, during the last two or three days, in consequence of a shocking and bloody affray which occurred on the ice opposite that village on Saturday afternoon last, [Feb. 11, 1860] about 3 o’clock. The facts are as follows: Two brothers, named RILYEA, with a friend, all residing at Esopus, Ulster County, were sailing in an ice-boat on the river on Saturday afternoon. After amusing themselves for sometime, they fastened the boat to the dock at Port Ewen, and went into a tavern to drink. While there, three Irishmen took possession of the boat, loosed it from the dock, and sailed to the middle of the river, where they were observed by one of the brothers, who instantly went to them demanded the boat. The Irishmen refused to surrender it, and angry words ensued. During the altercation, young RILYEA unfastened the tiller and threatened to drive out the occupants of the boat. Upon this, one of the Irishmen drew knife from his pocket and stabbed the unfortunate [22 year old] youth in the heart, inflicting a fatal wound. The remaining brother and his friend witnessed the transaction from the shore and immediately started for the scene of the affray. Before they arrived at the boat, however, they came to the place where the elder RILYEA lay, and seeing that he was dying, rushed towards the boat to take revenge. After a short fight, one of the Irishmen seized the tiller and struck the friend of the brother a severe blow upon the head, which felled him senseless, [cracked his scull and lead to his demise]. HIRAM RILYEA then repaired to the tavern where he procured a pistol, and returning to the boat, shot one of the Irishmen, killing him instantly. He then turned and [despite being badly hurt,] ran for the shore in the direction of Rondout, followed by the remaining Irishmen, where he arrived in advance of them, and instantly gave himself up to the authorities. The brothers RILYEA were 20 and 22 years of age respectively. The one who was killed was buried on Sunday. Both the offenders have been arrested. New York Times, Feb. 17, 1860, Page 5 The Grand Jury of Ulster County, which has been for several days in session at Kingston, adjourned on Wednesday, after having disposed of about thirty cases, in various forms. The most important of them was the affair at Port Ewen, which took place on Saturday last. The case, as laid before the Grand Jury, differs essentially from the reports formerly printed, and is substantially thus: On Saturday morning, two brothers, named HIRAM and JEREMIAH RELYEA [sic], with a friend, JOHN SLATER, while cruising down the river on the ice, with an iceboat, landed at Port Ewen, a small village, inhabited mainly by Irish, employes of the Delaware and Hudson Canal Company. It seems that HIRAM RELYEA and SLATER proceeded some distance back of the village, while JEREMIAH remained to take charge of the boat. While thus engaged he was surrounded by a gang of ruffians of the place, was terribly beaten and obliged to flee for his life. Thus matters stood until about 5 o'clock P. M., when Hiram and Slater returned to take the boat, when they were also attacked by the gang, and being surrounded upon all sides were obliged to fight for their lives. At this juncture RELYEA and SLATER endeavored to take refuge between two canal boats near by, but were still more closely pursued, and RELYEA was felled to the ground by a heavy blow from MARTIN SILK. Instantly springing to his feet, he discharged a pistol at SILK, the ball of which passed through the heart of his assailant, killing him instantly. RELYEA immediately fled toward Rondout, about a mile distant, pursued by a crowd of over a hundred infuriated Irishmen. When he reached the village he was covered with blood, and his clothes nearly torn from him by the crowd. He immediately gave himself up to the authorities. A scene of the greatest excitement prevailed in Rondout, and for a time it was with difficulty that a serious riot between the canal men and the citizens was prevented. Both HIRAM and JEREMIAH RELYEA now lie in a critical condition. Doubts are entertained of the recovery of the latter. Coroner DUBOIS on Saturday proceeded to hold an inquest on the body of SILK, who, with the jury impaneled, after much opposition by the friends of deceased, found a verdict in accordance with the above facts. The Grand Jury on Tuesday refused to find a bill against HIRAM RELYEA, on the charge of killing MARTIN SILK, admitting the ground of self-defence. Indictments were found against PATRICK KINNY, TOBIAS BUTLER, PATRICK MORAN, and some six other rioters, charged with “assault with intent to kill.” Warrants were issued, and those named have been arrested. 1860-02-17 New York Daily Herald Iceboat Affray - The Tragedy on the Ice at Port Ewen. ADDITIONAL PARTICULARS —SPEEDY JUSTICE BY THE GRAND JURY OF ULSTER COUNTY. The Grand Jury of Ulster county, which for several days past has been in session at Kingston, adjourned on Wednesday, after having disposed of some thirty cases, the most important of which however, was the affair which took place at Port Ewen, about three miles south of Kingston, on Saturday last. The case was laid before the Grand Jury on Tuesday, at which time the true facts in the same appeared, and are in substance as follows: On Saturday morning last two brothers, Hiram and Jeremiah Relyea, together with a friend, John Slater, while cruising down the river on the ice in an ice boat, landed at Port Ewen, a small village, populated for the most part by Irishmen employed on the Delaware and Hudson Canal, which has its terminus at that point, and a community bearing no favorable reputation. It seems that Jeremiah Relyea and Slater proceeded some distance back of the village, while Hiram remained to take charge of the boat. While thus engaged he was surrounded by a crowd of ruffians—representatives of the village—and Relyea was severely beaten and driven away. Thus matters stood until about five o'clock in the afternoon, when Jeremiah and Slater returned to take the boat, &., when they were also attacked, and, being surrounded upon all sides, were obliged to fight for their lives. At this juncture, Relyea and Slater endeavored to take refuge between two canal boats near by, but were still closer pursued, and [Hiram] Relyea was felled to the ground by a heavy blow from Martin Silk. Instantly springing to his feet, he discharged a pistol at Silk, which took effect, the ball passing through the heart, killing him instantly. Relyea immediately fled towards Rondout, about a mile distant, pursued by a crowd of over a hundred infuriated Irishmen, which place he, however, reached, covered with blood and his clothes nearly torn from him by the mob. He instantly gave himself up to the authorities. A scene of the greatest excitement prevailed in the village, and for a time it was with difficulty that a serious riot between the Irish canal men and the citizens was prevented. Both Hiram and Jeremiah Relyea now lay in a very critical condition, and doubts are entertained of the recovery of the latter. Coroner Dubois on Saturday proceeded to hold an inquest on the body of Silk, who, with the jury empannelled [sic], after much opposition by the friends of deceased, found a verdict in accordance with the facts as stated. The Grand Jury, at Kingston, on Tuesday acquitted Hiram Relyea on the charge of killing Martin Silk, upon the grounds of self defence. It further found bills of indictment against Pat Kinney, Tobias Butler, Pat Moran and some six others on the charge of ‘‘assault with intent to kill." Warrants were issued for their arrest, and those named are now in jail. 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Editor's note: The following text is from the "Register of Pennsylvania", August 14, 1830. Thank you to Contributing Scholar George A. Thompson for finding, cataloging and transcribing this article. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. A Trip On The Delaware & Hudson Canal To Carbondale. New York, August 2d, 1830. Mr. Croswell -- I perceive by the paper, that a packet boat commences this day, to run regularly for the remainder of the season, on the Delaware and Hudson canal. Among the pleasant and healthy tours that are now sought after, I would strongly recommend a trip on that canal. It leads from Bolton, on the waters of the Hudson and Kingston Landing; to Carbondale on the Lackawanna, which falls into the Susquehanna. I had the satisfaction not long since to visit that country, and I was delighted with the beauty and grandeur of the scenery, and the noble exhibition of skill, enterprize and rising prosperity, which were displayed throughout the course of that excursion. This great canal, though seated in the heart of the state, seems to be almost unknown to the mass of our tourists. Its character, execution and utility, richly merit a better acquaintance. It commences at Eddyville, two miles above Kingston, and we ascend a south-west course along the romantic valley of the Rondout, and through a rich agricultural country in Ulster county, which has been settled and cultivated for above a century. the Shawangunk range of mountains hangs on our left; and as we attain a summit level at Phillips or Lock Port, 35 miles from the commencement of the canal, after having passed through 54 lift-locks, extremely well made of hammered stone laid in hydraulic cement. The elevation here is 535 feet above tide water at Bolton, and the canal on this summit level of 16 miles, is fed principally by the abundant waters of the Neversink, over which river the canal passes in a stone aqueduct of 324 feet in length; and descends through 6 locks to Port Jervis, at the junction of the Neversink and Delaware rivers, and 59 miles from the landing. The canal here changes its course to the north-west, and ascends the left bank of the majestic Delaware, through a mountainous and wild region, to the mouth of the Laxawaxen [sic], at the distance of 22 miles from Port Jervis. In this short course the canal is mostly fed by the large stream of the Mongauss, which it crosses, and in several places and for considerable distances, it is raised from the edge of the bed of the Delaware, upon walls of neat and excellent masonry, and winds along in the most bold and picturesque style, under the lofty and perpendicular sides of the mountains. the Neversink, the Mongauss, the Lackawaxen [sic] and the Delaware were all swollen by the heavy rains when I visited the canal, and they served not only to test the solidity of the work, and the judgment with which it was planted, but to add greatly to the magnificence of the scenery. At the mouth of the Lackawaxen we crossed the Delaware upon the waters of a dam thrown across it, and entered the state of Pennsylvania, and ascended the Lackawaxen, through a mountainous region the farther distance of 25 miles to Honesdale, where the canal terminates. This new, rising and beautiful village, is situated at the junction of the Lackawaxen and Dyberry streams, and is so named out of respect to Philip Hone, Esq. of New York, who has richly merited the honor by his early, constant and most efficient patronage of the great enterprize of the canal. The village is upwards of 1000 feet above tide water at Bolton, and at the distance of 103 miles according to the course of the canal. There are 103 lift and two guard locks in that distance, and the supervision of the locks and canal, by means of agents or overseers in the service of the company, and who have short sections of the canal allotted to each, appeared to me to be vigilant, judicious and economical. The canal and locks, by means of incessant attention, are sure to be kept in a sound state and in the utmost order. The plan and execution of the canal are equally calculated to strike the observer with surprise and admiration. He cannot but be deeply impressed, when he considers the enterprising and gigantic nature of the undertaking, the difficulties which the company had to encounter, and the complete success with which those difficulties have been surmounted. This is the effort of a private company; and when we reflect on the nature of the ground, and the character and style of the work, we can hardly fail to pronounce it a more enterprising achievement than that of the Erie Canal. I hope and trust it may be equally successful. We found the most busy activity on the canal, and it was enlivened throughout its course by canal boats, (of which there were upwards of 150) employed in transporting coal down to the Hudson. At Honesdale a new and curious scene opens. Here the rail-way commences, and it ascends to a summit level of perhaps 850 feet on its way to Carbondale, a distance of 16 miles and upwards. It terminates in the coal beds on the waters of the Lackawanna, at the thriving village of Carbondale. The rail-way, is built of timber, with iron slates fastened to the timber rails with screws, and in ascending the elevations and levels, the coat cars are drawn up and let down by means of stationary steam-engines, and three self-acting or gravitating engines moving without steam. Nothing will more astonish and delight a person not familiar with such things, than a ride on this rail-way in one of the cars. A single horse will draw 16 loaded cars in most places, and in one part of the distance for five miles the descent is sufficient to move the loaded cars by their own weight. A line of ten or a dozen loaded cars, moving with any degree of velocity that may be required, and with their speed perfectly under the command of the guide or pilot, is a very interesting spectacle. I don't pretend to skill or science on the subject to canals, rail-ways and anthracite coal. I speak only of what I saw and of the impressions which were made upon my mind. It appears to me that all persons of taste and patrons of merits, whose feelings are capable of elevation in the presence of grand natural scenery, and whose patriotism can be kindled by the accumulated displays of their country's prosperity, would be glad of an opportunity to see these beauties of nature and triumphs of art to which I have alluded. "A Trip On The Delaware & Hudson Canal To Carbondale." Register of Pennsylvania. August 14, 1830. 111—112. 1830-08-02 -- A Trip on the Delaware & Hudson Canal to Carbondale 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 from the 1819 Letters to his father by Henry Meigs describing his life in then rural Greenwich Village. Thank you to Contributing Scholar George A. Thompson for finding, cataloging and transcribing this article. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. 1819: N. York, Feby 6th, 1819 Dear father. Since I last wrote you, Julia + I have decided on placing our tent in the Country as we call it for the ensuing summer. Where we can live much more economically and deliciously. *** It is a decent, convenient house immediately on the North River Margin, with the beach where we can bathe, at our door. Green slopes covered with thrifty Apple trees from the road to the River, a garden large enough to exercise Henry + I. We have all this for less than I have been used to pay these 10 years, and the distance from my office is only 13000 feet! I shall bring my dinner in my Pocket in the morning + retreat at night from our noisy, noisy town and when the apple trees are dipped in flowers, I shall be able to relish Homer. [passage in Greek] *** New York, March 14, 1819. My dear brother. ** You know when one owns an apple tree, what pains one must be at to keep the young rascals from stealing all the fruits. All one has of it is to consider that apple tree owning is a troublesome business *** N. York, April 18, 1819.Dear father - Yesterday we had a very interesting display of Electricity between two and three of P. M. [the lightning followed an all-day gale; a sketch-map showing that most of the lightning strikes were on the East River, below Wall-street] My country house is so situated as to receive the full force of blowing weather. So that in the stormy nights Julia + I have been delightfully lulled to sleep by the roar of wind + rain attended with that still more pleasant music [passage in Greek]. I assure you that [illegible] waves three feet hight roll on our sand beach most agreeably. *** The weather has been damp but we are all free from colds. Julia thinks the bank of the river is drier than our City brick vaults. The passing of the river boats of all sorts is a constant amusement + interest. When the wind blows heavy you watch as far as you can see, some bumpkin schooner or sloop whose press of sail threatens him every moment with a keel up + you admire some clean painted vessel with close reefs reaching hand over hand in the wind's eye towards the Metropolis and mark at every half [?] minute the spray fly from stem to stern thus [a sketch] and when she comes about we have all the noise of the sails [illegible] shivering in the blast. Henry Meigs, Letters. N-YHS; Between two and three o'clock on Saturday last, the city was visited by a storm of rain and hail, accompanied with considerable thunder and lightning. The schooner Thames, lying at Coffee house slip, was struck by the lightning, and was on fire for a considerable time, and much damaged; three men on board were hurt by the lightning, and sent to the hospital. *** National Advocate, April 19, 1819, p. 2, col. 3; [a destructive thunderstorm] N-Y E Post, April 19, 1819, p. 2, col. 3, from Mer Adv & Gaz; N-Y D Advertiser, April 19, 1819, p. 2, cols. 1-2 New York, April 25, 1819. Dear father - *** I am at work in my Garden at about sunrise + continue for two hours. Yesterday + the day before I dug up and raked over neatly, each morning about 800 superficial feet: about as much as a common labourer would do in a whole day. It is after such labour that I take pleasure in a good shave, wash, clean shirt, &c. breakfast, 2 mile walk + then sitting at my desk with pen. Henry Meigs, Letters. N-YHS.- a plan of his grounds and house: 200 feet along the river, 260 feet deep to the road; a house apparently with porches front & back; a barn, cow shed & fowl-house; a garden, approximately 100 x 130; apple & other fruit trees; the "quidnunc necessarius" (sp?) at the river's edge] - Henry Meigs, Letters. N-YHS, undated, filed between letters of May 9 and May 12, 1819 [fish in the market sell so cheaply that he tends his garden rather than fish for flounder from "the timber raft now in front of my door"; letter of May 16, 1819] One of the greatest evils of our London is, the vile quality of the water, which is obviously produced by the 1000s of Cloacinious (sp?) structures on the surface. I moved one mile from the Coffee house 8 years ago, principally, to obtain better water, for it may be observed at every street as you remove from the South end of our City, that the water becomes better. *** In the City, our tea kettle became encrusted with stony matter to the thickness of nearly 1/4 Inch in some months. *** I met Burr day before yesterday, and his appearance, so sprightly, induced me to remark to him that he had lost nothing of the appearance of health in the last 10 years. He replied smilingly "I presume, -- I have no doubt that I shall live all the days of my life! that is my philosophy!" *** This has been as usual (Sunday) a great River sloop day. They fill up cargo by Saturday all along the Hudson and improve Sunday to reach our market, -- baaing, cackling + horse blowing it -- along with calves, sheep, fowl, fresh butter et omnia cetera farmalia. I have to day counted 8 to 10 frequently in sight, in 15 minutes. *** Henry Meigs, Letters. Letter of May 23, 1819. N-YHS. ["whole dozens of boys" come to swim in the river near his house] I am sitting in my largest room looking thro the west windows on the opposite shore. Staten Island, the river, the sloops, the boys swimming. Henry Meigs, Letters. Letter of June 6, 1819. Henry Meigs, Letters to his father. New-York Historical Society. 1819-04-18 -- Henry Meigs, Letters to his father. At New-York Historical Society. Henry Meigs, coun. & nota, 16 Nassau, h. 43 Franklin (Longworth's, 1818/19);. Henry Meigs, coun. & nota, 16 Nassau, h. Greenwich (Longworth's, 1819/20) A more modern view of the former farmland. https://www.google.com/url?sa=i&url=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.propertynest.com%2Fblog%2Fcity%2Fgreenwich-village-manhattan-review-neighborhood-moving-guide%2F&psig=AOvVaw3pxW29IOBs6lnJaQsSKSn9&ust=1692726439999000&source=images&cd=vfe&opi=89978449&ved=0CA8QjRxqFwoTCKiYr8an7oADFQAAAAAdAAAAABAd 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 from the New York Times as reprinted from the New Orleans Times-Picayune on August 14, 1891. Thank you to Contributing Scholar Carl Mayer for finding, cataloging and transcribing this article. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. THE KEELBOATS AND FLATBOATS OF THE EARLY DAYS — DISCOURAGEMENTS OVERCOME BY FULTON AND HIS ASSOCIATES. - From the New-Orleans Picayune. Lamothe Cadillac, one of the early Governors of Louisiana, sententiously declared: “No boat could ever be run up the Mississippi into the Wabash, the Missouri, or the Red River for any commercial or profitable purpose. As well,” said he, “try to bite off a slice of the moon.” According to his judgment the rapid currents of these streams and their extreme crookedness formed insurmountable obstacles to their utility. Very fortunately, all men are not Cadillacs. In every age adventurous spirits had endeavored to solve the problem of the navigation of the Mississippi. They had followed the light-weight birch canoe of the Indian with various craft, more or less sightly, which moved over the bosoms of the grand stream and its tributaries, giving them new life. From the bayous and interior lakes which beautify Louisiana out into the big river came the hunter with his spoils in a pirogue. This was a narrow canoe, pointed at each end, hollowed out from a single log, partly by burning, partly by hewing with an axe. Its occupant propelled it by paddling with a single paddle first on one side, then on the other. It was uncomfortable for either sitting or standing, but in the hands of an adept could cleave the waters with the swiftness of an arrow sped from the bow. The goélettes or oyster luggers sailed into the river from the bays. When they reached it, their sails were furled and the oystermen cordelled them up stream. These oyster vendors announced their approach in a style befitting Old Neptune himself, by blowing a resonant blast on a huge pink-lipped conch shell, termed by the Spaniards boca del diavolo, i. e., the devil’s mouth. The radeau was a raft built of logs felled in the Louisiana swamps or on the shores of the Mississippi’s upper tributaries; it was floated down by the current to New-Orleans, and, having served its purpose, was sold as lumber. The chaland, or flatboat, came from the west, freighted with a cargo of salted and smoked meats, barrels of apples, flour, corn, lard, cider and whisky, dried fruits, and stoneware, such as jars and crocks. As the term “flatboat” would indicate, this craft was flat-bottomed like a box, on one end a tiny cabin, a mere doll-house, was constructed for the use of the boatmen. The chaland was assisted in floating down stream by the use of long ‘‘sweeps,” or flat-bladed oars, generally only one pair. Fiddling, dancing, and singing varied the monotony of the boatman’s mercantile venture adown the Mississippi. The chaland à bœufs, or cattle boat, was simply a magnified flatboat having a very large cabin pierced by many windows to admit of ventilation for the animals confined within. The caboteur, also called pirogue à voile, was a species of sailboat of good dimensions, provided with rudder and oars in addition to the sail. At one end stood a cabin occupied by occasional passengers. This style of peddling vessel carried a mixed stock in trade of groceries, wines, cordials, dry goods, and table and kitchen ware. Having made satisfactory sales of these articles they would return to their original point of departure laden with freight from the plantations. These aquatic stores would ground at convenient landing places on plantation fronts or near the villages, and were visited by all the inhabitants of the surrounding country for the purpose of barter. Not coin alone, but poultry, butter, eggs, &c., were accepted in trade. The keelboat, called by the Louisiana creoles “la barge,” was, however, the most generally accepted and comfortable river conveyance for freight, passengers, and crops of all kinds. Like the flatboats, the keelboats moved slowly, even going down stream, but the return up stream was tedious in the extreme. Flatboats were always sold at New-Orleans as soon as their freight was discharged, but keelboats would return to Pittsburg [sic], consuming from three to six months on the trip home, after having been at least six or seven weeks in going down the river. Keelboats were “light, long, and narrow, sharp at both ends, and round-bottomed; they were rigged with one or two ‘sweeps’ on each side for propelling purposes, and a sweep at one end for use as a rudder.” These sweeps were rude ones of immense size, formed of young tree bodies, attached to the boat by iron pins, and having at their outer end a blade formed of thick plank or board. There were also one or two masts on the keelboats. Thus the oarsmen, of whom three were always a full complement, could run up sails when the breeze set in the proper direction and rest themselves. Setting poles were employed to free the boats from the sand bars on which they sometimes grounded or to push them along in shallow water, and also to force them away from accumulations of driftwood and snags which interfered with their progress. In going up stream it was found extremely difficult to overcome the force of the strong, rapid current racing downward to reach the ocean. For this, warping and cordelling were resorted to. In both processes a hawser was attached to the mast. In warping, a tiny yawl was sent ahead of the keelboat carrying with it one end of the rope, this was fastened to a tree on the river bank, and as the boatman pulled hand over hand by the rope to the tree station, a second hawser was tied to another tree further on, to which point the men then pulled the boat, and thus the warping continued, the men in the yawl knotting each rope to a tree alternately, those in the keelboat pulling up to the trees by the hawsers. Cordelling was frequently resorted to. In this method the heavy ropes were held at one end by men on shore, who walked along laboriously dragging the boat against the current. When admissible, mules were employed instead of oarsmen, thus relieving the latter of an arduous task. This system was employed by the ancient Romans, who propelled their wheelboats by men or oxen. There was always a contracted apartment near the stern of a keelboat, which served as its cabin. These were not only of use for giving protection to occasional passengers, but were, in many instances, the sole residences of the boat owners. Owing to this fact the latter were factiously termed crocodiles, that is alligators, because, like these reptiles, they were equally at home on land or water. That early travel on the Mississippi was not always a delight may easily be understood through the following announcement, published in 1797, giving due notice to possible passengers of the advantages possessed by keelboats about to leave port: “No danger need be apprehended, as every passenger will be under cover—proof against rifle and musket balls, with portholes for firing out of. Each of the boats will be armed with six pieces, carrying one-pound balls, also a number of good muskets and an ample supply of ammunition. They will be strongly manned and by masters of knowledge.” These warlike preparations were due to the necessity of providing protection. Owing to its numerous difficulties and extreme inconvenience, traveling was not very customary with the fair sex of Louisiana in its early days, but the patricians of France and Spain, who had sought new homes on the wild shores of the turbulent Mississippi, knowing well the inestimable blessing of education, determined, in spite of all intervening obstacles, to procure it for their children. Their sons were sent in sailing vessels over the ocean to the time-honored educational institutions of Europe, while their daughters were delegated to the seclusion of the Ursuline Convent in New-Orleans. “Mademoiselle Marie,” (for eleven times out of a dozen she was so baptized,) with the addition of an aristocratic surname, made the trip adown the river, under the care of her father, in the rude craft of the period, feeling quite as grand as did Cleopatra when borne in her royal barge to meet Antony. Occasionally families would make a river trip in their own boats, manned by their own slaves. They carried ample supplies of provisions, cooking utensils, bedding, awnings, &c. Tying up to the bank at night, they would build fires on the shores to frighten away the alligators coming from the river and swamp, and the wild animals from the forest, then pitch their tents, like wandering Arabs, under the trees, and rest peacefully until dawn appeared. There are many souvenirs of a romantic nature connected with travel on the Mississippi previous to its awakening by the whistle of the steamboat. The traditions of one creole family point to an ancestor who wooed his bride on a keelboat. She was a blooming, dark-eyed maiden, on her homeward trip from “Le Convent,” who, to while away the tedium of the journey, chanted sweet French hymns acquired in the cloister to the notes of a guitar. The music touched the impulsive heart of the handsome fellow-traveler and “Mademoiselle Marie” never returned to the convent to assume the veil, as she had been more than half inclined to. On another occasion a wealthy widower, a planter on the river coast, desired a governess for his charming daughters; a keelboat landed at his plantation gates; he visited it and discovered on board a family moving from the East to Louisiana; one of its members was a grown daughter, well educated and attractive. Among the household goods of the family was a piano. The planter secured the services of the young lady and the instrument for the education of his children. It is not strange, under the circumstances, that in a short while the planter was seeking another governess, while his home owned a new mistress. "The hour was approaching, however, when there would be an end to romance on keelboats; the era of steam was about to revolutionize the world. The lad Fulton had attained manhood; he had been inspired by inventive genius to perfect that steam navigation which had occupied so many minds for so long a while, and he was successful. In 1803 this young Pennsylvanian launched a small steamboat on the Seine, in 1807 he placed a second on the Hudson; gratified with his success, his ambition pointed to a still greater possible triumph on the Mississippi, although it was declared by all but a very few that it would be impossible for him to build any steamboat that could stem the strong and rapid current of the great river. Fulton turned a deaf ear to all adverse prophecies and worked toward the end he had in view until his efforts culminated in success. Of the various persons who have disputed Fulton’s laurels as the inventor of the first perfect steamboat, Edward West’s claims are the strongest. West, father of the noted painter William West, was a Virginian of Welsh extraction, who settled in Lexington, Ky., 1785, as a watchmaker, he being the first workman of that nature ever in the town. He was a serious investigator of steam and its possibilities, and constructed all the machinery for his experiments himself; among these machines was a tiny steam engine made in 1799, and which is even yet in the museum of the lunatic asylum at Cincinnati. In August of 1801 he exhibited to the Lexingtonians a boat wherein he had applied steam to the oars; he obtained a patent for this. Its model was unfortunately destroyed at the burning of Washington City by the British in 1814, along with the model of his patented nail-cutting machine, the first one ever invented; it cut 5,320 pounds of nails in twelve hours. West sold this patent for $10,000. It was on the Elkorn, at Lexington, that West first exhibited his boat. Disappointed at having to yield the palm of successful steamboat navigation to Fulton, he died at Lexington Aug. 23, 1827, aged seventy. It may be that West’s claim was just, but Fulton certainly was the first one to bring steam navigation prominently before the public, the first one to make it useful for commercial and traveling purposes; in consequence of this, greatest credit will always attach to him. While Fulton was busy working out practically his dream of steam power, many changes had occurred on the Mississippi. Louisiana had passed from the dominion of France to that of Spain, and again from the latter to that of the United States. Its name was no longer “Province of Louisiana,” but “Territory of Orleans.” New-Orleans, its seat of Government, had become an incorporated city, and the Territory itself was knocking loudly at the door of the Union demanding admission as its eighteenth State. The Territorial Legislature of 1811, which previous to its adjournment received official information of the passage of the act to enable the citizens of the Territory to frame a Constitution and State government preparatory to the admission of the new State into the Union, was the identical one which also passed an act granting to Fulton and his associate, Livingston, “the sole and exclusive privilege to build, construct, make, use, employ, and navigate boats, vessels, and water craft urged or propelled through water by fire or steam, in all the creeks, rivers, bays, and waters whatever within the jurisdiction of the Territory during eighteen years from the 1st of January, 1812. In the "Clermont", which Fulton tested on the Hudson in 1809, Fulton made use of a vertical wheel invented by Nicholas J. Roosevelt, who was deeply interested in the evolution of Fulton’s invention. After the acknowledged success on the Hudson, it was decided that this Roosevelt should go down the Ohio from Pittsburg, out into the Mississippi, and on down to New-Orleans, studying all the way its topography, and above all its currents. With this end in view, Roosevelt, accompanied by his wife and the necessary men to handle it, made the trip on a flatboat. It was in May of 1809 that Roosevelt started on his journey, making stops at Cincinnati, Louisville, and Natchez, (the only towns of any note whatsoever between Pittsburg and New-Orleans,) and reaching New-Orleans in November; at each town he had been told it would be utter madness to attempt such a feat as to overcome by steam the wild current of the Mississippi; all to whom he spoke of the joint intention of Fulton and himself to inaugurate steam travel on its turbid waters wished him well, but would depict in strong terms the impossibility of so bold a venture. On reaching Pittsburg in January of 1810, after having consumed six months with his journey of investigation, Roosevelt made such a report that Fulton and Livingston were encouraged to start the immediate building of the pioneer steamer which was to pit its strength against the velocity of the rushing waters of the mighty river. At that period sawmills were not existent, the lumber for the boat was got out by hand and rafted down to Pittsburg, where the steamer was constructed according to the plan furnished by Fulton. It was given a 100-ton capacity; a wheel at the stern, and two masts; its length was 116 feet, its width 20 feet; its engine was manufactured at a Pittsburg foundry under the immediate superintendence of Roosevelt and Latrobe, and possessed a 34-inch cylinder. The boat was made comfortable by two separate cabins for passengers, that for ladies containing four berths. Latrobe was a noted architect of his day, and in 1816 came to New-Orleans to build the city water works, but failed to do so, as the city could not furnish the necessary funds. The new boat was baptized the "New-Orleans", as it was intended to ply between that city and the hill town of Natchez. In the early days of September this graceful, well-proportioned steam craft left Pittsburg on its experimental journey, its only passengers being Mr. and Mrs. Roosevelt and their Newfoundland dog; its crew consisted of six deck hands, a Captain, a pilot, Andrew Jack by name, and Baker, the engineer, in addition to whom there were the cook, a waiter, and two maids. The mouth of the Ohio was reached without any extraordinary event, but on entering the Mississippi it was discovered in a state of overflow. On each side the land was under water, and the pilot, who had so bravely faced the dangers of the falls at Louisville and brought the boat safely over them, was now terror-stricken, for he had lost all his bearings. Everything was changed, the entire river seemed to have altered its course, whole islands marked on his chart had vanished completely, and the waters had eaten new cut-offs through the forests; but there were brave spirits aboard the "New-Orleans", and with trust and hope in Providence they continued cautiously on their way. Owing to the danger of attack from Indians, instead of tying up at night, the boat was compelled to anchor in the stream. Even under these circumstances the Indians one night endeavored to board it, and it was only by the superiority of the velocity of steam power over that of the Indian canoe paddles that the "New-Orleans" crew escaped their wild pursuers, who were ready to attack them, even while frightened at a new craft, whose motive power, being invisible to them, filled them with awe. One evening, in spite of their knowledge that the move was a dangerous one, the crew of the "New-Orleans" tied her up to some trees growing on an island. During the night they were awakened by a crashing noise, and the fact that the boat was being knocked about by some mysterious agency. Imagine their surprise and fright when they discovered the island had been entirely destroyed by the flood, and the motion of the boat was caused by the timber from it being washed up against the sides of the craft and bumping it about. Gathering their scattered wits into some kind of order, the officers of the "New-Orleans" once more started her down the river, moving with care, at a speed rate, it is said, of three miles an hour, although she is declared to have made eight miles on the Ohio. Finally the yellow, sun-baked bluffs of Natchez were sighted, and as the graceful little steamer came toward them, breasting the Mississippi current with the ease of a swan swimming over a smooth pond, all the inhabitants of the town gathered on the bluffs to view her, and wild, loud, and prolonged were the shouts which welcomed her advent. At Natchez the "New-Orleans" received the first cotton ever carried on the waters of the Mississippi, or anywhere else, by steam, the shipper being Mr. Samuel Davis. When the "New-Orleans", speeding on its way, reached that portion of the river bank above the City of New-Orleans called “the coast,” along which lay the plantations, all animals—domesticated and wild—rushed away from the extraordinary spectacle in amazed affright; masters and slaves quit alike their pleasure and toll to gaze in open-eyed surprise on this great wonder, this steam-breathing Queen of the Waters. Steadily the well-proportioned boat speeds down stream until the 10th of January finds the population of New-Orleans flocking en masse to the levee to welcome this name-child of their prosperous city, the steamboat "New-Orleans". After her warm welcome at the Crescent City, the "New-Orleans" made one trip on the Ohio, and then ran from New-Orleans to Natchez until she was destroyed by fire at Baton Rouge in the Winter of 1813-14. Her life was short, but she had fulfilled her destiny. New boats followed in her wake, having as commanders and pilots the flatboatmen and bargemen of former times. Cotton, which had formerly been limited in cultivation owing to the great expense of handling such heavy freight when it was compulsory to transport it on barges, now became the staple crop. In 1820 it amounted to 600,000 bales, by 1835 it had reached 1,500,000, one-half of which was sent to the New-Orleans market. The population, too, increased marvelously, for men were not slow to flock to the rich lands bordering the Mississippi after the transportation of crops became facile and rapid. The second boat sent down the Mississippi was the "Vesuvius", built at Pittsburg in 1814, and enrolled at New-Orleans the same year, that city being the only port where boats could be enrolled at that time, as there was no Custom House at Pittsburg nor at Cincinnati. The "Vesuvius" was commanded by Capt. De Hart, and just prior to the fight at Chalmette, Gen. Jackson took possession of her to transport arms and ammunition. She, however, was so unfortunate as to get aground, and reached New-Orleans too late for the battle. Like her predecessor, she was short lived, having burned at New-Orleans in 1816. As the demands of commerce increased, new boats were supplied, until by 1820 there were fifty plying on the Mississippi, and a regular packet line was the same year established between Vicksburg and New-Orleans, the first one being the Mississippi, built in New-York, and placed originally on the Alabama River. Under the steamboat system, travel became a luxurious pleasure, much indulged in by the river planters especially. When a journey was undertaken, a slave was stationed on the river bank to watch for the approach of a steamer; during the day he waved a white flag to signal it, during the night he burned a beacon fire on the levee and rapidly circled a blazing pine torch in the air, while in stentorian tones he cried out, “Steamboat ahoy! ahoy! ahoy! ahoy!” as the boat hove into sight; a few shrill shrieks from the whistle acknowledged the signal, a bell clanged, the steamer rounded to, a gangplank was extended from the lower deck to the shore, and the traveler had begun his journey. From 1812 until the present time, there has been but one variation in the adopted method of steamboat signaling—a change which had its birth in a new era, a greater era than that of steam navigation, the era of freedom. The man still waves the white flag and circles the blazing torch, but since 1864 the hand with which he grasps them is that of a freedman! Of late years the steamboat trade of New-Orleans is only a fraction of what it was previous to the laying of so many railroads through Louisiana and its sister States. Yet the levees and piers which extend back from the river some two hundred feet along the whole length of the city, and which in their days of infancy were mostly prized as yielding space for a pleasant promenade, are still a Babel of confusion, an anthill of industry. 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 from the New York Times issue from August 18, 1889. Thank you to Contributing Scholar Carl Mayer for finding, cataloging and transcribing this article. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. Very few persons who journey up and down the Hudson River either upon the palatial steamers or upon the railway trains that run along both banks of this great waterway know how great an amount of wealth is daily floated to this city on the canalboats and barges that compose the immense tows that daily leave West Troy, Lansingburg, Albany, Kingston, and other points along the river bound for this city. Twice each day-—early in the morning and in the evening—a large number of tows made up of boats that have come through the Erie Canal from Buffalo, the Northern Canal from points along Lake Champlain as far north as Rouse's Point, and through the Delaware and Hudson Canal from the anthracite coal regions of Lackawanna and Wyoming, in Pennsylvania, leave the above places in tow of huge side-wheel towboats and of puffing little screw propeller tugs, all moving toward one objective point, which is New-York City. Frequently these tows will be bunched together, so that, within a distance of three or four miles on the river, there can be seen several hundred barges and canalboats afloat carrying in their holds hundreds of thousands of dollars in merchandise, produce, lumber, grain, and ore. Many of these single tows contain as much as 100 boats, and sometimes a larger number, marshaled six and eight abreast, and reaching back at least a quarter of a mile from the stern of the leaders to the sterns of the last boats. Few persons would believe it, if told that enough freight was carried in a single tow of this kind to load a couple of dozen large trains of freight cars; yet such in the case. During the past week several such tows have arrived from Albany in tow of the powerful tugs of the Schuyler Steam Towboat Line of 15 South-street. Their largest steamer, the huge side-wheeler Vanderbilt, only a few days ago brought down from Albany 120 grain barges, each barge carrying from 8,000 to 10,000 bushels of grain, weighing 240 tons, with a gross tonnage for the entire tow of nearly 40,000 tons. On Tuesday last one of their smaller boats, the Belle, Capt. John Oliver, assisted by the propeller James T. Easton, brought seventy-four boats from Albany and Troy, many of them laden with iron ore from Lake Champlain, while the others were loaded with grain and lumber and lying so low in the water that much of the time they were partially submerged. The gross tonnage of this tow was over 25,000 tons. In taking a trip from this city to Albany, frequently as many as fifty of these tows are passed, it taking about thirty-six or forty hours for them to reach port at this city after leaving Albany. From Kingston, which is the tide-water outlet of the Delaware and Hudson Canal, another class of merchandise is shipped in the same manner. From the mouth of the Rondout Creek, which forms the harbor of the thriving and busy city of Kingston, can be seen emerging every evening huge rafts of canalboats, tall-masted down-Easters, and barges of various sorts, laden with coal, ice, hay, lumber, lime, cement, bluestone, brick, and country produce. Many of these craft have received their cargoes at the wharves of Kingston, while others have come from the coal regions about Honesdale and Scranton, in Pennsylvania, all bound for this port and consigned to, perhaps, as many different persons as there are boats in the tow. Of the heaviest part of the traffic of the entire river at least two-thirds is monopolized by the two great towing companies, the Cornell Transportation Company of Kingston and the Schuyler Steam Towboat Line of Albany. The Schuyler Company practically has a monopoly of the trade coming from the Erie and Champlain Canals at Albany and Troy, as well as the towing for the Pennsylvania Coal Company from Newburg, while the Cornells hold in a tight grasp the business of the Delaware and Hudson Canal Company from Kingston, both north and south, on the river. The business of the Knickerbocker and other ice companies, which is something immense in volume, is scattered about among individual towboat owners, the two companies spoken of above, and several smaller towing lines. On the arrival of the tows that come from various points up the river at this port a complete transformation takes place from the sleepy quiet that has reigned on the boats while slowly, but steadily, on their way creeping down the river. As soon as a large tow is sighted far up the river, a number of tugs belonging to the various towing lines in the harbor start with a full head of steam and race with each other to reach the tow. Each tug carries orders from the consignee of some particular boat to take it from the tow and place it in some selected berth. The boats to be dropped first from the tow are always placed on the outside or on the tail end, and as soon as the tugs reach them they begin to cast off and the tow begins to break up. They are then picked up by the tugs sent for them and taken to their several destinations. The boats from the Albany tows, laden with flour and grain, are mostly taken to the piers along the East River from Pier 3 to Coenties-slip, the Erie and Atlantic Basins, and the elevator docks at Dow’s stores in Brooklyn. The boats laden with lumber, brick, cement, lime, building material, and bluestone from Kingston and other points are docked at the brick, stone, and lumber yards along the North and East Rivers, the coal barges go to Weehawken and Perth Amboy, and the ice barges to various stations along the North and East Rivers. Among the famous towboats plying between this city and up-river points are the America, Anna, Belle, Cayuga, Connecticut, Niagara, Ontario, Syracuse, Vanderbilt, Oswego, Mount Washington, Austin, Sammy Cornell, James T. Easton, the famous old ice king the Norwich, and many others. Many of these boats have labored upon this great waterway for at least thirty years, and some of them for a longer period. They have earned fortunes for their owners, and have also furnished employment for a huge army of men whose lives have been spent on the river and whose occupation promises to descend to their children in turn. The wealth that has been transported to this city in tow of this fleet of steam vessels is incalculable, and probably far exceeds if not doubles that of any other waterway in the world. 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 from the August 3, 1831 issue of "Cabinet" , Schenectady, New York. Thank you to Contributing Scholar George A. Thompson for finding and cataloging this article. The language, spelling and grammar of the article reflects the time period when it was written. Fortune Telling – A system of fraud has been lately followed in this city, to a considerable extent, which is important the public should have a knowledge of, that they may guard against impositions. A man named Pierce has been in the practice of enticing people from the country to houses on pretence of getting their fortunes told, and he would then fleece them out of their money. His practice was to leave the city until he ascertained that the cheated person had gone off, and he would then return and practice his villanies on others. Complaints had sometimes been made to the police officers, but they could never get Pierce, until the complainant had left the city, and there was then no evidence to convict him. But last week the biter got bit. One or two weeks ago, a man from Vermont, named Carey, who had engaged a passage to the west, in a canal boat, was accosted by Pierce, who told him he was going in the same boat, and by his attentions to him become ingratiated in his favor. He proposed to C. to go and get their fortunes told. In going across one of the pier bridges, they met a man named Brown; P. pretended to be a stranger to him, and asked him where there was a fortune teller. B. said he was one. They then went into a store on the pier, where B. commenced telling P's fortune, and the latter expressed his great astonishment that he could tell him so correctly, how old he was and where he was born, & c. He then urged Carey to have his fortune told, but C. declined. P. and B. then began to bet on the turning up of cards. Finally B. offered to bet $50 that he would turn up a particular card after the pack had been shuffled by his adversary. Pierce said he had but $210 with him, and after much urging, he persuaded Carey to lend him forty dollars. The particular card was not turned up, when P. seized the money and immediately left the room. Carey could not find him afterwards. He made complaint to the police, but Pierce could not be found, having gone off as usual. The police advised Carey to leave the ciy in the boat in which he had engaged to go to the western part of the state, but to stop a few miles out for town for a short time, and advise where he could be found, in case they secured Pierce. The plan succeeded; Pierce, having ascertained that Carey had gone, and supposing him far away from the city, returned, intending no doubt to renew his schemes on others. But the officers of Justice laid their hands on him, and having obtained the attendance of Carey, the cunning Mr. Pierce was committed to prison, and will be tried next week. He has been taught the lesson that simple honest is better than the deepest craft. Brown left the city at the same time with Pierce. He also has since been arrested. Albany Gazette 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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