THE MODEL OF A SHIP BUILT FROM BLOCKS OF WOOD AFTER DRAWINGS ON PAPER.
Some of the Details of a Very Interesting Operation as Told by a Famous Constructor - England Behind the Other Leading Nations Until Recently.
           
Who would ever have imagined that a great ship — a modern wonder of the sea like the Paris or the Camperdown — is built as a woman makes a dress or a tailor cuts out a suit of clothes? That is the fact. Ships nowadays are built from patterns, and those patterns do not greatly differ in appearance or in fact from those which enable American women to copy the fashion in dress. To be sure, a tailor's and dressmaker’s patterns are made of paper and are laid upon cloth or dress goods, while a shipbuilder's patterns are of wood, and steel and iron are made to follow them. That is perhaps the greatest difference between the methods of high grade tailoring and high grade shipbuilding, so far as their first steps go.
           
The English have only lately begun to value the model as the basis of shipbuilding. A famous American shipbuilder says that the model of the yacht America was the first model he ever saw in England. That accounts for the absence of beauty in English ships, which even to this day possess varying degrees of ugliness, but no beauty. For, though they make models today, the mere making of them does not suffice. The art and appreciation of model making must be instinctive.
           
The French and Spanish from the earliest times made beautiful ships and models, and when one of these ships fell into the hands of the English they adopted and used her if possible, or if she was too much damaged they took her apart, piece by piece, and built a new ship like her by copying the exact shape of each part of her in new material. Curiously enough, we Americans have always made beautiful ships — well proportioned, artistic in every line, while satisfactory in an equal degree for all practical purposes.
           
A model is made in a way that seems queer to the average layman, who doubtless suspected that it was whittled into shape out of a block of wood, as we boys used to whittle our blocks at the age when all of us were shipbuilders. It is not done so. After an order has been received for a certain kind of ship the plans of it are drawn upon paper. Mr. Lewis Nixon, the famous constructor for the Cramps, tells me that very early in the process he makes a picture of the ship as he wants it to look, but though he does so others may not consider it essential.
           
At all events, apart from any drawing, the needed dimensions and lines are developed upon paper, and then the model is made, and the president of the company begins to take very active interest in the work. The model is made in the shape of a block, formed of a number of pieces of wood glued together. These pieces represent the different curves of one side of the ship, from the keel to the gunwale — the different water lines is how the builders express it. To understand this the-reader most imagine a ship made of solid wood. Imagine that cut in half lengthwise, and then imagine one half laid on its side and cut into slices.

The pen and ink calculations and plans produce the shape of the ship, and from these it is possible to obtain the outline and dimensions of every slice or plane between the bottom and the top. Each plane is measured and drawn in outline on a board, and the outline is word unclear] or cut in the board with a [word unclear] tool. All the boards or pieces of wood are then glued together, and a simple looking block is made — a block that shows nothing of its true nature except that the top of it bears the graven outline of the top deck or gunwale line of a ship. Out of that simple square block will come the egg which is to hatch the splendid ship that is to be.
           
That block, made up of slices, each with its dented outline of a different plane of the ship, is now cut away, much as we boys used to cut our block, but with this difference: Each board is cut exactly to the dented or graven line upon its surface. The shape the block will have when all the superfluous wood is cut away will be the model of the ship that was designed by the engineer on paper to fill the requirements of the customer’s order, but will that model stand? Will the master builder be satisfied with its lines?
           
Will it do to be enlarged in steel and sent around the world as an example of what the Cramps consider the most beautiful and artistic and useful shape such a ship should have? No. Such a first model next to never suits the modeler, who in this case is Mr. Charles H. Cramp. He hacks into it with fervor. He tapers the bow. He digs away the stern. He shaves the whole model with the nice and dainty touches of a sculptor at work upon a statue on which is to rest his boast that he is a true artist.
           
The fate of the wooden block alters the figures of the engineer’s plans. Perhaps the alteration is such that new drawings and a new model follow. Thus, by borrowing and lending, the two soon agree, and upon the two — the model and the plans — the ship will be built. Sometimes a model is on the scale of a quarter of an inch to each foot of the ship, but the scale differs with different builders. ​

The pen and ink calculations and plans produce the shape of the ship, and from these it is possible to obtain the outline and dimensions of every slice or plane between the bottom and the top. Each plane is measured and drawn in outline on a board, and the outline is word unclear] or cut in the board with a [word unclear] tool. All the boards or pieces of wood are then glued together, and a simple looking block is made — a block that shows nothing of its true nature except that the top of it bears the graven outline of the top deck or gunwale line of a ship. Out of that simple square block will come the egg which is to hatch the splendid ship that is to be.
           
That block, made up of slices, each with its dented outline of a different plane of the ship, is now cut away, much as we boys used to cut our block, but with this difference: Each board is cut exactly to the dented or graven line upon its surface. The shape the block will have when all the superfluous wood is cut away will be the model of the ship that was designed by the engineer on paper to fill the requirements of the customer’s order, but will that model stand? Will the master builder be satisfied with its lines?
           
Will it do to be enlarged in steel and sent around the world as an example of what the Cramps consider the most beautiful and artistic and useful shape such a ship should have? No. Such a first model next to never suits the modeler, who in this case is Mr. Charles H. Cramp. He hacks into it with fervor. He tapers the bow. He digs away the stern. He shaves the whole model with the nice and dainty touches of a sculptor at work upon a statue on which is to rest his boast that he is a true artist.
           
The fate of the wooden block alters the figures of the engineer’s plans. Perhaps the alteration is such that new drawings and a new model follow. Thus, by borrowing and lending, the two soon agree, and upon the two — the model and the plans — the ship will be built. Sometimes a model is on the scale of a quarter of an inch to each foot of the ship, but the scale differs with different builders. ​

ALL THE YARDS ARE BUSY AND IN NEED OF MORE HELP. BUILDERS PAY $250,000 ANNUALLY IN WAGES. SEVERAL HUNDRED MEN ARE EMPLOYED.
           
One of the most important branches of industry that this city is blessed with is that of boat building, which has more than doubled Itself within the past ten years.  But few people outside of the men employed on the yards have an adequate conception of the magnitude of this particular work and the number of men employed at good, substantial wages.  All the yards are located on the Rondout creek, extending from Ponckhockie to Eddyvllle.  In order to give the readers of The Freeman an idea of what is being done at these yards a representative of this journal made a tour of the yards today and gleaned the following facts:
           
The leading boat building establishment is that of C. Hiltebrant at South Rondout, and this was the first one visited.  At this yard at the present time 133 men are employed.  There are seven barges in course of construction and a large amount of repairing work is going on.  Two floating dry docks are used at the works, the largest being able to take on a vessel of 1,300 tons burthen, and the second one accommodating a vessel of 800 tons.  At short intervals large cargoes of timber are received at the yard for the construction of all classes of freight-carrying boats.  Yesterday the work of discharging a big cargo of timber was begun and there will be several more before the snow flies.  One cargo of lumber that is due at this yard almost any day now was shipped on a large sea vessel which left Puget Sound with its load on February 15th last.  The failure of the vessel to arrive long before this is attributed to adverse weather.  
           
Mr.  Hiltebrant, on being asked what the prospects were for a busy winter's work on the yard, replied, with a chuckle, that it was a little early to state positively, but things looked remarkably bright.  The last few words mean a great deal, and it is dollars to doughnuts that, the yard will be busy all winter.  Mr. Hiltebrant volunteered the information that there is as much money paid out here weekly among the boat yards as there was on the Delaware & Hudson canal in its palmiest days.  So busy, indeed, has the work been at the yard since early spring that Mr. Hiltehrant has been compelled to refuse several orders for new boats.  More good mechanics would be a welcome addition to his works and he needs them very much.  The workmen all hold Mr. Hiltebrant in high esteem.  They know his kind and generous nature and every man is happy and contented with his lot.  
           
The pioneer in the boat building business on the Rondout creek is John J. Baisden, who has in active operation two yards, one at Sleightsburgh and the other at Eddyville.  Mr Baisden began his boat building experience at Mongaup, Pa., in the year 1853.  On October 2, 1882, he opened a yard at Eddyvllle, which he has continued ever since, many fine boats having been launched from the ways there.  In the year 1897 he branched out and established a yard at Sleightsburgh. which before long became his main plant.  Today Mr. Baisden has three barges in course of construction, two of which are well advanced toward completion.  Over 40 men are at work on the two yards, which is small in comparison to the number which he usually employs.  At the Sleightsburgh yard much repairing is done, this part of the industry at his works being a little slack just now.  During the past few years Mr. Baisden has built for the Old Dominion Steamship Company of New York ten large lighters and one steamer, and all his work has given the best of satisfaction to the Old Dominion people.  
           
On the dock close by the South Rondout ferry on the Rondout side of the creek is located the boat yard of J. Rice & Son, the selling agents of the building firm being Schoonmaker & Rice.  Here 45 men are employed, and no good mechanic who applies for work is turned away.  But for the delay in receiving timber fifty more men would have been at work on the yard some time ago.  At present there are three large barges in course of construction, and it was learned from Mr. Rice that the outlook for a busy winter's work on the yard was very rosy.  This firm expects, before navigation closes, to have over 1,000,000 feet of lumber on its yard, which will be used up in the building of boats before next spring.  All the barges built at this yard are now constructed for Schoonmaker & Rice, who find a ready market for them in New York and elsewhere.  On Saturday J. Rice & Son gave their employes, who were accompanied by their wives and sweethearts, an excursion down the river on the new house barge Central, recently completed at the works.  The tug J.  D. Schoonmaker towed the barge.  The firm provided its guests with an abundance of refreshments and music was furnished by an orchestra.  Every one on board had a delightful time.  As the reporter was taking leave, Mr. Rice said: "Any man who understands the work of boat building will not be turned away."  
           
At Derrenbacher's Corners near the foot of Ravine street can be found another boat building establishment. that of R. Lenahan & Company, which now gives employment to 65 men.  On the stocks three big freight barges are being put together and as soon as they are finished and launched work on others will be begun, as the firm has several nice orders ahead which will keep the men busy for a long time.  There will be plenty of winter work at this yard.  The firm has large consignments of timber on the way to the yard and for a concern that developed not such a long time ago it is doing remarkably well.  First-class mechanics and sober and industrious laborers are ever welcome at this yard.  
           
Adjoining the yard of J. Rice & Son is the Rondout boat yard conducted by W. J. Turck. Jr., and John Turck, with A. M. Cooper as manager. This yard was formerly known as the McCausland ship building works.  The present occupants have forty men busily engaged in building two barges, and have many orders ahead for the construction of others.  At this yard a large amount of repairing work is done, and the only trouble seems to be the shortage of help.  Good ship carpenters are needed badly.  The specialty of this concern is the building of ice, coal and brick barges.  A member of the firm said that the prospects for a busy winter's work on the yard were exceedingly bright.  
           
On Turck's dock in Ponckhockie is still another boat building industry, that of Captain Dennis Donovan.  Although not as large some of the others, it materially increases the number of men employed in this branch of industry.  Mr. Donovan employs, on an average, 22 men, and would give work to more, but sometimes is hard pushed to retain his usual force.  Two barges are in course of construction on his yard, and he told the reporter that he had enough orders ahead to keep his men — and he would be pleased to engage more good mechanics — busy for a year to come.  He said that the demand for freight barges at the present time was great, and the yards hereabouts could not turn them out fast enough.              
The J. Graham Rose Freighting Line is the title of another boat building enterprise doing business on the upper island dock of the Delaware & Hudson Company.  This firm employs at present on its yard 35 men.  The building of coal and cement boats is the principal feature of its business.  In conjunction with this yard are the Consolidated Cement Company's plants at Eddyville and Creek Locks, which give employment to 30 men or more.  At the present time all the yards are busy.  
           
Nearly a quarter of a million dollars is paid out annually by the boat builders of Rondout and vicinity to their workingmen. who find steady and lucrative employment in the yards that line both sides of the Rondout creek from Ponckhockie to Eddyville.

Editor's Note: Our thanks to Joan Dwyer for compiling, and sharing, this list of Rondout Creek boatyards during research for her newly published book "Dwyer Brothers".

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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.
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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.

Iron shipbuilding came to Newburgh in the 1870s. That this happened at all can best be
attributed to the serendipitous conjunction of several forces. For us to better understand how these forces acted, we must start by examining briefly the industrial domain of Newburgh’s waterfront, its facilities and its people, immediately after the Civil War.
 
With the exception of the Newburgh Steam Mills and the newly-established Higginson
Manufacturing Company (the former a cotton mill and the latter a plaster mill, both
located to the north of South Street), Newburgh’s major industrial activity along the river was centered around the foot of Washington Street.
 
Here could be found the foundry and machine shops of the Washington Iron Works, which had been active during the war building machinery for naval vessels. Dating from the 1850s and under the management of Isaac Stanton and his partner named Mallery, its normal peacetime activity included the building of sugar-mill machinery, much of which was exported to plantations in Cuba and elsewhere throughout the Caribbean region. The works’ output also included sawmills, shingle mills, and steam engines and boilers. (It is of interest to note that some of this company’s buildings from that period survive at the southwest corner of South Water and Washington Streets, and that one lathe from their machine shop was still in use by Harry Marvel as late as 1946.)
 
Clustered around the iron works could be found the boiler shops-first that of D.A. Rheutan (and later that of Alexander Cauldwell), as well as the machine shop of Melrose and Moss. Pat Delany, who would later have a boiler shop at the corner of Renwick and South Colden Streets, served an apprenticeship with Cauldwell. Further to the south were the village’s shipyards-George F. Riley (who had once been a partner of Thomas S. Marvel) and a newcomer, Adam Busman, who had a short-lived partnership with L. Stewart. Later he teamed with Joel W. Brown to form Bulman and Brown, and maintained a shipbuilding and repair yard to the south of the foot of Washington Street.
 
In the late 1860s, Thomas S. Marvel had left Newburgh and was engaged in shipbuilding at Port Richmond, New York, and Denton, Maryland. Near the foot of Renwick Street had been the sawmill and planing mill of James Bigler, and nearby the lumber yard of D. Moore. Bigler built many wooden gun carriages there during the war.
 
At this time, heavy industry in Newburgh was composed of two parts- wooden shipbuilding and the iron-working trades. Changes were taking place, in that the Washington Iron Works had gone bankrupt, and their shops were taken over by William Wright, who came to Newburgh from Providence, Rhode Island. (Wright who had been employed at the engine works of George Corliss, was allegedly the inventor of the popper-valve mechanism which made the Corliss engine so popular, but Corliss himself took credit for this technological breakthrough and Wright eventually departed.)
In 1872, some of those previously associated with the Washington Iron Works- Luther C. Ward, Samuel Stanton (Isaac’s son) and John Delany (Pat’s brother)- founded Ward, Stanton and Company for the purpose of continuing the manufacture of the defunct firm’s machinery line. To this was added marine engines, and a short time later they bid upon and won the contract for a wooden tugboat for the City of New York. Lacking shipbuilding experience, they sub-contracted the hull and joiner work to Bulman and Brown, whose yard was adjacent to their shops. Ward, Stanton and Company built the engine, boiler and other machinery, and installed these components in the completed hull. The tug, named Manhattan, was delivered in August 1874. At about the same time, they had constructed engines and boilers for two small steam yachts, Revenge and Fanny (built elsewhere), and, apparently, a small iron-hulled steam lighter was built for use in Mexico. (The construction of the last named vessel has never been verified.)
 
With these initial forays into small ship construction, the partners concluded that this was a way of expanding the firm’s business, and, at some undetermined time, Thomas S. Marvel joined Ward, Stanton and Company to oversee the firm’s shipbuilding activities. Concurrently came what is considered the first major contact for a vessel with an iron hull- a steamboat for Greenwood Lake.
 
Incorporated in 1874, the Montclair Railway Company was built to provide access to Greenwood Lake for vacationing New Yorkers.  In the 1870s, the lake, which straddles the New York-New Jersey state line, had become an important resort area with hotels lining the shore on both sides. What was needed was a large steamboat to move passengers to the hotels from the rail terminus at the lower end of the lake, replacing an inefficient and unreliable “mosquito fleet.”
 
The railroad contracted with Ward, Stanton and Company for the steamboat, a classic little side-wheeler whose iron hull was erected at the Newburgh yard using bolts instead of rivets. When complete, the hull was unbolted, moved to a site at the head of the lake and re-erected, this time using rivets. She was launched on June 29, 1876, at which time she was named Montclair. The engine and boiler were then installed, the joiner work fitted, and the completed vessel made her first revenue trip in the late summer of 1876. A crew of Ward, Stanton’s artisans from Newburgh assembled the steamer at the lake site.
 
What should have been a time of celebration was indeed not. The Montclair Railway had declared bankruptcy before Montclair was delivered, but the steamboat was handed over to a successor company. After still another bankruptcy and change of name, the company, now the New York and Greenwood Lake Railroad, became part of the Erie. The steamboat continued to run regularly, making the scheduled hotel landings and stopping on signal at other ports along the lake. She ran until the 1920s, when her machinery and joiner work were removed and the hull scuttled in the middle of the lake.
 
A handsome little steamboat, Montclair was 80 feet long, with a beam of 20 feet. Her beam engine, built by Ward, Stanton and Company, was equally diminutive, with a cylinder eighteen inches in diameter and a piston stroke of four feet. The shipbuilders also built her boiler.
 
The construction of Montclair was sufficient to convince Messrs. Ward, Stanton and Delany that iron shipbuilding, so successfully introduced in the Delaware River shipyards but rarely seen in New York, was the key to their future success. Delaware River shipbuilders like Neafie and Levy, John H. Dialogue, Harlan and Hollingsworth and others were much closer to sources of iron plates and shapes, and their iron hulls were therefore able to compete with wood in the 1860s. By the late 1870s improved rail connections to the east lessened this handicap for New York and Hudson River shipbuilders, but by this time shipbuilding in New York was nearly extinct.
 
A gradual transition at Ward, Stanton’s shops saw shipbuilding commence in earnest in 1879, when ten wooden vessels and the iron-hulled ferryboat City of Newburgh were completed. In 1880, the output was seven hulls of wood and two of iron, including the large Hoboken side-wheel ferry Lackawanna. The following year, there were three wooden vessels, a composite yacht (with iron frames and wood planking) and a second Hoboken ferry, and in 1882, iron finally surpassed wood four vessels to three.
 
The year 1883 was a determinant one for the yard; seven iron hulls and a single wooden one (the powerful tug John H. Cordts, built for the Washburn Steamboat Company of Saugerties, but acquired by the Cornell Steamboat Company in 1884.) The following year, 1884, three iron hulls and two wooden vessels were completed, and contracts for two more iron ferryboats were in hand.
           
Alas, 1884, proved to be the end of the line for Ward, Stanton and Company. After a disastrous fire the year before and for other reasons, the company was declared bankrupt a few days before Christmas. Of the partners, Luther C. Ward became what was then called a “commercial traveler,” Samuel Stanton retired and moved his family to Bradenton, Florida, aboard the steamboat Manatee (perhaps the last vessel completed by Ward, Stanton and Company) and John Delany entered into a partnership with Thomas S. Marvel under the name T.S. Marvel and Company.
 
The shipbuilding facilities would be shared between T.S. Marvel and Company and James Bigler (who won the contract to complete the two unfinished ferries) until Bigler retired from shipbuilding in the early 1890s. T.S. Marvel and Company (later T.S. Marvel Shipbuilding Company) would quickly earn a reputation for quality ship construction in iron and steel, turning out such noted vessels as the Cornell Steamboat Company’s tug Geo. W. Washburn in 1890, J.P. Morgan’s steam yacht Corsair in 1898, and the Hudson River Day Line’s Hendrick Hudson in 1906.
 
But it was the building of the side-wheeler Montclair that was the turning point. The age of iron had finally come to the New York region, the Hudson River and to Newburgh. ​

In 1921, silent film star and comedian Buster Keaton released one of his best comedy shorts, The Boat. 

Following the exploits of an unnamed amateur boatbuilder (played by Keaton) whose boat is too big for his house and ends up getting him and his family - a wife, played by Sybil Seely (uncredited), and two young boys (actors unknown) - into all kinds of trouble.

This is considered the third in a trilogy of shorts starring Keaton and Seely. The first, The Scarecrow (1920) follow's Keaton as a bumbling farm hand who is afraid of the farm dog who ends up marrying the farmer's daughter (played by Seely). The second, One Week (1920) follows the exploits of newlyweds Keaton and Seely as they attempt to build the DIY house they received as a wedding present. By the time of The Boat (1921), the pair have had two children - young boys who get into nearly as much trouble as their father.

The name of the doomed vessel is "Damfino," a play on the phrase "D--med if I know," which also gets a laugh in the movie. Keaton must have loved the pun, as he went on to use it several times throughout his career. 

Although filmed and set in California, as we get into the high season for family boating and boatbuilding, we thought this was a fun one to share with our fellow Hudson Valley residents. We hope you enjoy watching with friends and family!

If you'd like to learn how to build a boat that actually floats (and doesn't wreck your house), check out our boatbuilding classes! And if you'd like to learn how to sail properly (including what to do if your boat capsizes!) check out our Sailing School for adult and youth offerings.

​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!​

The Rondout Creek, upon which was situated the terminus of the Delaware and Hudson Canal, served the transportation needs of the village of Rondout- the one-time commercial hub of Ulster County. The Creek was destined to be a shipbuilding center for the mid-Hudson region for well over a century, and the Rondout area was the home of many waterside activities which were dependent upon a supply of steamboats, tugs and barges to move the region’s products to market.
 
At one time or another during the past 150 years, wooden boats were built at Sleightsburgh, Ponckhockie, South Rondout, the Island Dock, Wilbur and Eddyville. Steel vessels were later built on the Island Dock and at Wilbur.
 
The shipbuilder at Ponckhockie was Jefferson McCausland, at whose yard was built, among other vessels, the tugs John D. Schoonmaker, Harry and Frank for the late lamented Cornell Steamboat Company- a longtime Rondout icon- in 1888, 1892 and 1893 respectively.
 
There was another obscure shipbuilder at Rondout in the person of Henry Pross who built the little tug Dr. David Kennedy in 1880. Certainly nobody today will remember “Dr. Kennedy’s Favorite Remedy,” a potent patent medicine that was Victorian Rondout’s version of penicillin.

Morgan Everson operated a shipbuilding yard many years ago at Sleightsburgh, where he built the tug H.W. Hills in 1864 for service at Hartford, Connecticut. In 1872, he constructed two tugs for Thomas Cornell- Coe F. Young and Thomas Dickson- which the old-time boatmen invariably and collectively called “the Youngs and Dickson.” Everson’s yard was active during the Civil War and beyond, and later it was run by a man named McMullen. Later still, the proprietor was John Baisden, who built the renowned and handsome tug Rob for the Cornell Steamboat Company in 1902. Baisden rebuilt Cornell’s tug Victoria in 1908. The site of this yard, just downstream of the present Kingston Oil Supply Company, was later used as a repair facility by the Cornell Steamboat Company. At this location, the hull of the tug Harry, hauled out on the marine railway and her engine and boiler removed, literally fell to pieces in the 1940s.
 
Upstream and across the creek in South Rondout (as Connelly was always known by the boatman), Jacob Fox had a small yard around the 1860s. Jake Fox built the tugboat George W. Pratt for Thomas Cornell in 1863, along with many barges and other vessels. Among the others was a tug named Thomas Cornell, and Fox also rebuilt the tug Greenwood in 1863 after she had suffered a boiler explosion. Long after Fox’s yard ceased to exist, George W. Pratt was rebuilt at Sleightsburgh in 1882 by McMullen.
 
By this time, Conrad Hiltebrant was operating a barge-building yard at South Rondout. This later expanded to become the C. Hiltebrant Dry Dock Company, which built many vessels, including steam tug s for the Navy in 1918-20. The yard continued its activities between the wars. During World War II, the Hiltebrant yard produced minesweepers for the Navy, and in the post-war period was active in the construction of state-of-the-art non-magnetic minesweepers.
 
After the closure of the D&H Canal at about the turn of the last century, the Island Dock (originally the Canal’s transshipment entrepot) lay fallow for a number of years. During World War I, the Kingston Shipbuilding Corporation constructed ocean-going wooden-hulled cargo steamships (the only vessels of the type ever built along the Creek), and, in the 1920s, patrol boats for the Coast Guard. The main mission of these was the interception of bootleg alcoholic beverages during prohibition; as a result, the patrol boats were known as “rum-runners” to the shipyard workers.
 
Shipbuilding on the Island Dock was revived during and after World War II under the name Island Dock, Inc. The wartime activities included the construction of four large wooden-hulled naval steam tugs (known as “ATRs) and some minor craft. After the war, the company converted to steel construction, and during the decade of the 1950s turned out a flotilla of barges and other vessels for the Army, Navy and commercial owners. Seventeen LCU landing craft, a ferry for Shelter Island, New York, and barges for the City of New York and others were among the notable latter-day products of the yard. Today, nearly 40 years after the yard closed, the historic Island Dock is home to a forest of trees, the ghostly remains of its former activities barely visible under the umbrella of their leaves.
 
In later days, the yard of W.F. & R. Boatbuilders, Inc., located across the slip on Abeel Street, was associated with Dwyer Lighterage, Inc., a Rondout tug-and-barge owner. The yard had formerly been the property of Jacob Rice (for whom the Cornell tug Senator Rice was named.) Many wooden barges were built on these premises over the years. The Dwyer family later operated a fleet of oil barges and the tug James F. Dwyer, none of which had been built at Rondout. The memorable gray-painted Dwyer covered barges, which carried bagged cement, stood out like beacons in Cornell’s tows during the 1920’s and 1930’s.

Rondout was also the home of a shop. Operated under various names, which built boilers for many of the steam vessels along the creek. Boilers were also constructed for steamboats, tugs and shoreside industries elsewhere in the Hudson Valley. The steamboat Mary Powell, Rondout’s own “Queen of the Hudson.” had during her long life six sets of boilers, three of which were built at the Rondout shop, of which the successive proprietors were a man named McEntee, John Dillon, McEntee & Dillon and McEntee & Rodie. McEntee & Dillon built the engine for the tug George W. Pratt. Later the Cornell Steamboat Company built engines and boilers at their extensive shops which were located in large brick creekside buildings downstream of the Museum.
 
Finally, we come to the Feeney yard at Wilbur. The Reliance Marine Transportation & Construction Corporation, still very much in existence, has been the sight of steel barge-building activity, and the home base of the Feeney tugs and barges, since the late 1940s.
 
Looking at the Rondout Creek today, with its marinas and its vast flotilla of pleasure craft, it is difficult to imagine that, for a century, hundreds upon hundreds of commercial craft- mainly barges and tugs- were launched from local yards. Reliance Marine alone carries on the long and proud tradition of shipbuilding along the Creek, but the shadows of Morgan Everson and Jake Fox and the others keep a silent watch over this historic waterway. In fact, if you stand on creekside when all else is quiet, you might just make out “the Youngs” or “the Dickson” through a shimmering morning mist.

Last week we explored the Poughkeepsie Regatta, so this week we thought we'd take a look at how wooden rowing sculls were built in the past. This short film from British Pathe shows one family of boatbuilders in Eton, England, famous for the Eton College crew team. 

You can see examples of 19th century rowing sculls and more modern (1960s) wooden sculls in the Hudson River Maritime Museum's rowing exhibit.

Although rowing sculls are not built (yet) at the Hudson River Maritime Museum's Wooden Boat School, you can build kayaks, rowboats, and even carve your own paddles or oars. If you're interested in building your own boat, check out available classes. And if you'd like to learn how to row, check out our traditional rowing classes, or join the Rondout Rowing Club. 

The Hudson River Maritime Museum recently received a set of black and white photographs documenting the work of the Kingston Shipbuilding Corporation during World War I. Clyde Bloodgood worked at the shipyard located on Island Dock. Shipbuilding has been going on for the last couple of hundred years along Rondout Creek. William duBarry Thomas writes in the 1999 Pilot Log: "During World War I, the Kingston Shipbuilding Corporation constructed ocean-going wooden-hulled cargo steamships (the only vessels of the type ever built along the Creek)"
 
The museum is grateful for the donation of these fine photographs. They are a wonderful addition to the museum's collection and aids in our ability to tell the history of the Hudson River and its tributaries.

If you enjoyed this post and would like to support more history blog content, please make a donation to the Hudson River Maritime Museum or become a member today!​

Editor’s Note: The following text is a verbatim transcription of an article featuring stories by Captain William O. Benson (1911-1986). Beginning in 1971, Benson, a retired tugboat captain, reminisced about his 40 years on the Hudson River in a regular column for the Kingston (NY) Freeman’s Sunday Tempo magazine. Captain Benson's articles were compiled and transcribed by HRMM volunteer Carl Mayer. See more of Captain Benson’s articles here. This article was originally published August 14, 1977.

As the “Esopus” moved sedately down Rondout Creek toward the Hudson, all the vessels along the creek with steam on their boilers joined in whistle salutes of goodbye and good luck. At the Central Hudson Line wharf between the foot of Broadway and Hasbrouck Avenue lay the big steamer “Benjamin B. Odell.” The “Odell’s” pilot, Richard Heffernan, was on top of the pilothouse as the “Esopus” passed, pulling on the cable connected to the large commodious whistle and he kept pulling it to the whistle’s full steam capacity. Even the trolley cars along Ferry Street were ringing their bells. 

At that time, Rondout Creek sort of resembled a home for old steamboats. At the foot of Island Dock lay the big sidewheel towboat “Oswego” built in 1848. At the Abbey Dock, east of Hasbrouck Avenue, lay the old Newburgh-to-Albany steamer “M. Martin,” which at one time during the Civil War had served as General Grant’s dispatch boat. Farther down the creek at the Sunflower Dock lay the old queen of the Hudson, the “Mary Powell.” Now, on all three, after over half a century of service on the Hudson, their boilers were cold and their whistles were silent. 

As the "Esopus" neared Ponckhockie, the large whistle on the U.& D. Railroad shops and the whistle of the old gashouse blew long salutes of goodluck and happy sailing.  Finally, as she approached the mouth of the creek, Jim Murdock, the keeper of Rondout lighthouse, rang the big fog bell in a final farewell to the “Esopus." When she reached the Hudson, the “Pocahontas” took the “Esopus” in tow and started the trip to New York. 

Years later I was pilot on the “Pocahontas,” and her chief engineer, William Conklin, told me about the 1918 trip down the river.  Chief Conklin was a great man for detail.  He said that when they got to the Hudson Highlands, between Cornwall and Stony Point, it was the time of evening when the nightly parade of nightboats made its way upriver — the passenger and freight steamers bound for Kingston, Saugerties, Catskill and Hudson, Albany and Troy, as well as tow after tow.  That was when the Hudson River was really busy with waterborne traffic.

Bill went on to tell me the “Esopus” towed like a light scow, following the “Pokey” without any trouble at all.  They arrived in New York in the early morning and a big coastwise tug was waiting for them at Pier 1, North River, to tow the “Esopus” out Long Island Sound.  The orders from the Cornell office were for the “Pocahontas” to stay with the tow up the East River through Hell Gate and then call the Cornell office for further orders.  After passing through the Gate, the "Pocahontas” let go, saluted the "Esopus" three times and returned to the Hudson.
 
After that, I never knew for sure what became of the “Esopus.” It would be nice to be able to say she had a distinguished career in war and a long, profitable one in peace.  Ships like the “Esopus,” however, had been an emergency measure.  World War I was over before she saw much service and apparently they found little use in the years that followed.  It is my understanding the “Esopus” was the only one of the four to be built on Island Dock that was completed.  Her sister, the “Catskill,” was launched but never finished, and construction of the other two was stopped and they were dismantled. 
​
In the 1920’s and early 30’s there used to be ships like the “Esopus” in the backwaters of New York harbor lying on flats and abandoned, but I never saw any names on them.  Gradually they rotted away with only a few watersoaked timbers remaining.  If one of these should have been the bones of the “Esopus,” it would have been a sad end for a ship that was cheered by some 15,000 people when she was launched on Rondout Creek nearly 60 years before.

​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!​

This blog post is called "The Confusing Tale of two Thomas Collyers," and is about two steamboats by the same name, in operation around the same time, and the confusion that results. But in some ways it should really be about THREE Thomas Collyers - the two vessels and the man who built both of them. 

Thomas Collyer began his work as an apprentice shipbuilder in the Hudson Valley of New York, building his first ship - the aptly named First Effort - in the early 1830s. His second vessel, the Katrina Van Tassel (named for the love interest in Washington Irving's "Sleepy Hollow") was completed in 1838. Building steamboats in Troy, NY and Lake Champlain, he finally settled in New York City, building such boats as the Daniel Drew and Henry Clay. And, it turns out he built two separate boats named after himself - one in 1850, and another in 1863.

A few weeks ago we shared George Murdock's steamboat biography of the steamboat Thomas Collyer, built in 1863 and Thomas Collyer's last boat he built before he died. But unmentioned in that account was that an earlier Thomas Collyer was built in 1850 in New York City, but serving the bulk of her life operating out of Georgetown, District of Columbia. She was later renamed City of Brunswick and operated out of Brunswick, Georgia, before being removed from documentation in 1896.

A Thomas Collyer served as a dispatch boat for Abraham Lincoln during the Civil War. It was not uncommon for fast steamboats to be pressed into service, but it's unclear which Thomas Collyer served when! Perhaps both? 

The 1850 Thomas Collyer served as one of the first steamboats to make regular trips to Mount Vernon. Tourists had been making pilgrimages to visit George Washington's tomb for decades, but in 1853 the Thomas Collyer started making regular landings at Mount Vernon itself. One reference indicates that by 1862 the Thomas Collyer was under the control of the Mount Vernon Ladies' Association. Mary Lincoln visited the historic site and Washington's tomb in 1861, again aboard the Thomas Collyer. President Abraham Lincoln did not accompany his wife, but was an admirer of Washington.​

On May 25, 1861, Naval records note that the USS Pawnee captured the Confederate steamer Thomas Collyer at Alexandria Virginia. Was this the 1850 Thomas Collyer pressed into Confederate service? Was the captured boat later repurposed? 

In 1864, Lincoln tried to visit Mount Vernon again. According to the University of Michigan:

Lincoln's endorsement is written on a letter from Harriet V. Fitch, Vice Regent of the Mount Vernon Association, February 26, 1864, requesting that the steamboat Thomas Collyer be permitted to run between Washington and Mount Vernon: ``We have through much labor bought, and paid for, the, home and grave of Washington, and but for the national troubles, would long since have collected a sum, equal to its restoration, and future keeping. Now, we have no means to keep it---no revenue but such as this boat will bring us. With that we will be enabled to go on another year, at least, and at the end of that time, let us hope for brighter days, when we can add to our fund; by further collections in the States.''

Stanton's endorsement follows Lincoln's: ``The Secretary of War does not deem it expedient to allow a Steamboat to run to Mt Vernon at present.''

Although Lincoln never made it to Mount Vernon due to security concerns, it's unclear whether the Thomas Collyer mentioned here was his regular dispatch boat, or the vessel making the tourist runs. It seems likely that it was the original, 1850 vessel, given the destination, but it could have also been the 1863 vessel.​

The Thomas Collyer built in 1863 was used as a U.S. dispatch boat. One source indicates she was chartered in 1863. Known as a very fast steamboat, on November 11, 1864, the Washington, DC Evening Star reported "The steamer Thomas Collyer arrived here this morning from City Point with the mails and passengers. Having been placed on the mail route in place of the steamer Manhattan. The Collyer brings no news from the war front." But it did have thirty Confederate deserters aboard, having taken the "oath of allegiance," along with several Union soldiers being dishonorably discharged. 

In February of 1865, Lincoln visited Annapolis. He left Washington by train and arrived in Annapolis later that day, before boarding the Thomas Collyer to get to Fort Monroe for the Hampton Roads conference, which are held on board the steamboat River Queen just off the Union controlled fort. The peace talks ultimately failed. 

On March 14, 1865, the Evening Star reported that "A party of fifty or sixty excursionists, composed principally of Congressmen and their wives, bound on a pleasure trip South, left the 6th street wharf this morning on the Government steamer Thomas Collyer." The point of the excursion was apparently to view "points South now in the possession of our troops."

Just short of a month later, Abraham Lincoln was assassinated at the Petersen House on April 15, 1865. ​On April 17, a special dispatch the New York World reported that when the news of Lincoln's assassination reached Richmond, VA, "Two steamers left City Point simultaneously - the City Point and the Thomas Collyer." It is unclear which Thomas Collyer is referred to. 

On July 28, 1865, the Thomas Collyer was still working as a dispatch boat for the government. A "Notice to Travellers" in The Norfolk (VA) Post announced that the M. Martin, another New York steamboat chartered for government service, along with the Thomas Collyer were available for both mail and passengers.

The end of the 1850 Thomas Collyer is unclear, but on May 16, 1866, the Baltimore Daily Commercial reported on a US District Court Case involving the Thomas Collyer (likely the 1850 one). U.S. Marshall W. Bonifant reported that the Collyer was being sued by Charles Reeder for libel "in a cause of contract." Bonifant reported he had "seized and taken the said steamer, and have the same in my custody," holding it until the owner or owners appeared in court. 

After the war, the 1863 Thomas Collyer returned to New York for service. You can read the rest of her story in the George Murdock article. 

Even so, the tale of the two Thomas Collyers remains tangled. I guess we can only blame Thomas Collyer himself. 

If you have more definitive information on either of the Thomas Collyers​ and their Civil War service, please let us know! Email [email protected].

​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!​