The Mary Powell was one of the longest-serving and most famous of the Hudson River passenger steamboats. She was in operation from 1861 to 1917, and many of her crew were Black and African American. Although it is not clear whether or not Black or African American passengers were allowed to travel aboard the Mary Powell, many of them did work aboard the boat, mostly restricted to lower-paying jobs such as deckhands, waiters, and boilermen. Some steamboats did have Black stewards, and the Mary Powell had Fannie M. Anthony – the Black stewardess who managed the ladies’ cabin for decades, but it is unclear if any of the stewards listed in the Mary Powell crew records were African American or not.

However, there were enough Black employees working aboard the Mary Powell for them to form their own club - The Mary Powell Colored Employees Club. 

The little evidence we have of the Mary Powell Colored Employees Club comes from newspaper articles, primarily organized around the annual cake walk the club put on each year between at 1909 and 1917.
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Cake walks were a style of dance popular in the 1890s and 1900s among Black communities, and often co-opted by Whites. Originating in enslaved communities as a mockery of the formal dances, primarily the Grand March, of Southern plantation owners, athletic variations invented by African and African-American dancers lent themselves well to competitions. Cake walks generally had two variations – graceful and athletic versions designed for Black audiences, and wild caricatures designed for White audiences, often in conjunction with minstrel shows. These two historic films illustrate the differences. The first shows Black dancers in formalwear, focused on elegance. The second features those same dancers in exaggerated dress, performing a comedic routine, likely for a White audience.

In 1909, the Kingston Daily Freeman announced the first annual cake walk of the “colored employees of the steamer Mary Powell.” About a month later, on September 23, the Freeman reported on the success of the cakewalk. Held at Michel’s Hall (located at 53 Broadway), “The hall was filled with friends of the Powell’s colored employes [sic], besides many others composing the officers and crew of the boat.” This mention of other officers and crew seems to imply that the event may have been integrated.
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The article also lists the officers of the Mary Powell Colored Employees Club:

• President – C.J. Graves
• Treasurer – Seymour Darling
• Financial Secretary – George Bynoe
• Corresponding Secretary – James H. Page
• Sergeant at Arms – Fitz Seeley
• Assistant Sergeant at Arms – H. DeWitt
• Floor Manager – Richard Miller
• Assistants – C. J. Graves and Edward Smith

​Prizes were offered for the best dancers, and first prize went to John Schoonmaker of Kingston, NY and Medina Schoonmaker of Poughkeepsie, NY. “Second honors were taken by Ott Overt and Maude Overt of Poughkeepsie.” The Poughkeepsie Evening Gazette also reported on the cake walk, likely because residents of that city placed in the contest.

The cake walk continued in 1910, held on September 15, again at Michel’s Hall. This time the walk featured Professor Butler’s orchestra from New York City, as well as “several professional cake walkers from New York, Newburgh and Poughkeepsie.”

No articles appear for the 1911 dance, but in October of 1912 something curious happened – two different dances for Mary Powell employees occurred, just days apart. On October 2, 1912, the Mary Powell Colored Employees Club held their “fourth annual ball and cake walk” at Michel’s Hall, with Professor Butler’s orchestra and “two couples of professional cake walkers.”

But on October 3, 1912, the Kingston Daily Freeman announced “The first annual dance of the deck hands of the Mary Powell will be held in Washington Hall on Saturday evening.” On the appointed day, October 5, the Freeman reported:

“The Mary Powell deck hands will hold their annual dance in Washington Hall this evening. This dance has always been one of the most popular of the season and it is expected that this year will be no exception.”

Were these the same dance? Likely not – one took place on October 2nd in Michel Hall, located at 53 Broadway in Kingston. The other took place on October 5th in Washington Hall, located at 110 Abeel Street in Kingston. Was one a dance for the Black employees and the other a dance for White employees? Did the person writing the October 5th article confuse the deck hands’ dance with the Mary Powell Colored Employees Club dance? Or did the deck hands really have dances before 1912?

It seems likely that 1912 was the first year of the deck hands’ dance, corroborated by an advertising poster from 1912 confirming that as the first year.

Notably, future Mary Powell captain Arthur Warrington is listed as the President of the Mary Powell Deck Hands. Lawrence Dempskie is listed as Vice-President, John Malia as Treasurer, Frank Sass as Secretary, and George Brown as chair of the Floor Committee. Note also the reduced price for ladies.

There is almost no further mention of either club or dance, except for one reference in the New York Age, a Black newspaper based in New York City. On September 20, 1917, the reported, “The annual dance given September 12 by the young men of the steamer Mary Powell was largely attended. Good music contributed to an enjoyable evening. Many from out of town attended.” This is almost certainly referencing the Mary Powell Colored Employees Club event.
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1917 was the last season of the Mary Powell – she remained out of service in 1918 and was sold for scrap in 1919.

To learn more about Black and African American workers aboard the Mary Powell, check out our previous blog posts on Fannie M. Anthony, the Black Glee Clubs of the Steamboats Mary Powell and Thomas Cornell, and check out our online exhibit about the Mary Powell. For more information about Black history on the Hudson River and in the Hudson Valley, check out our Black History blog category for more to read. 

​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 December 12, 1971.

Back in the days before boatmen were unionized, steamboatmen would go to work as soon as the ice broke up in the spring and work continuously until their boat was layed up when the river froze over in December.

In those days of long ago, almost all of the steamboats had wooden hulls and as soon as the river would freeze, all navigation would cease. The ice would raise havoc with those wooden hulls. New ice in particular was dangerous. It would be as sharp as a knife and as a steamboat went through the new ice, the ice would take the caulking right out of the seams and cause the hull to leak.

When I was a deckhand on the tugboat “S. L. Crosby” of the Cornell Steamboat Company in 1930, I recall Harry Conley, the pilot, telling me about the time in the 1890’s when he was quartermaster on the “City of Troy,” one of the steamboats between New York and Troy.
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When the first snow of the season would come, the crew would be happy because they knew then that it wouldn’t be long before the ice would be forming and the “City of Troy” would be laying up for the winter. After the men had been working since early spring, with no time off, they would welcome their winter time vacation.

He would tell me how with the first real cold snap, they would leave Troy and the crew would listen for the first sounds of fine ice forming. On a still, bitter cold, clear December night you can hear the snap and crackle of the new ice. It is a sound a boatman never forgets. Generally, the new ice would begin to first form in the river around Esopus Meadows Lighthouse.

Then, the crew would be all smiles, knowing in a few days orders would come for the last trip of the season and the “City of Troy” and the crew would have a two or three months rest. The would go home, Harry to Schodack with about one hundred dollars saved from his wages and live real good. During the winter, most of them would work at one of the ice houses, harvesting the winter’s crop of ice.

I still look forward to the first snow of the season, despite the fact today the tugboats all have steel hulls and many work all winter long.

How different the river shores look all covered with the first snowfall. It seems like only yesterday the wild flowers and purple loose leaf were blooming all along the up river shore line. Now everything looks cold and bleak.

With snow on the shores and hills, one can see paths going up from the river that you cannot see in the summer when the foliage is thick on the trees. Also houses and stone walls stand out in startling clarity. How a snow storm changes the landscape into a wonderland when the river becomes locked in winter’s cold embrace!
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The first snow storm also changes other things. A few years ago I remember leaving Coeymans right after the first snow. As we were leaving, my deckhand said, “Bill, this sure makes us think what we did with our summer earnings, doesn’t it?”

​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 written by George W. Murdock, for the Kingston (NY) Daily Freeman newspaper in the 1930s. Murdock, a veteran marine engineer, wrote a regular column. Articles transcribed by HRMM volunteer Adam Kaplan. For more of Murdock's articles, see the "Steamboat Biographies" category.

​It was 2 o’clock in the morning, just 63 years ago today, December 1, 1875, that the magnificent steamboat “Sunnyside” met her fate. This memorable early morning disaster which claimed many lives, still remains a vivid picture in the memory of George W. Murdock, who was a member of the crew of the ill-fated vessel.

The wooden hull of the “Sunnyside” was built by C.R. Poillon of Williamsburg, New York, in 1866. The vessel was 247 feet, six inches long, with a 35 foot, four inch breadth of beam. She was rated at 942 gross tons and was powered by an engine with a cylinder diameter of 56 inches with a 12 foot stroke, built by S. Secor & Company of New York.

The “Sunnyside” and “Sleepy Hollow” were sister steamboats, built for service on the lower Hudson river, running in passenger service between Sing Sing and New York. Both vessels were fine examples of modern steamboat construction of that period and both were possessed of good speed. They began operating in the spring of 1866, making landings at Yonkers, Irvington, and Tarrytown, with one vessel and covering the identical route but extending to Grassy Point with the other vessel. This double service continued until July of the following year (1867), when the “Sunnyside” was placed in operation running to Newburgh for the balance of the season, and was then laid up.

In July, 1870, Joseph Cornell in partnership with Captain Black, bought the “Sunnyside” at auction for $45,000. She was then converted into a night boat and placed on the Coxsackie route, continuing in service on this route for the balance of that season and through the year 1871. She made a landing at Catskill on alternate days with the “Thomas Powell,” which plied the Hudson river only as far as Catskill.

During the winter of 1871-1872, Joseph Cornell, George Horton and Thomas Abrams organized the Citizens’ Line, placing the “Sunnyside” and “Thomas Powell” in service in opposition to J.W. Hancox, who was operating the “C. Vanderbilt” and the “Connecticut.” In July, 1872, the Hancox steamboats were withdrawn and the Citizens’ Line was without opposition.

​The “Sunnyside” was one of the fastest night boats carrying staterooms on the Hudson river during that period, and in July, 1874, she made the run from New York to Troy in eight hours and 55 minutes.

The hand of fate seemed to hover over the “Sunnyside” almost from the time she first slid into the waters of the Hudson river. She met with numerous accidents during her career, some of little consequence, while others caused damage to the vessel and claimed lives of some unfortunates. One night, on her down trip from Troy, in the latter part of May, 1874, the “Sunnyside” collided with the abutment of the Congress street bridge at Troy, staving in her starboard boiler which was located on her guards. The escaping steam caused the death of one man. In November of the same year she ran aground on Fish-house bar between Troy and Albany, striking with such force that she stove a hole in her hull and almost sunk. During the month of August 1875, she caught fire from spontaneous combustion in some bales of cotton on her main deck, but the flames were discovered in ample time to avert serious damage.

On Tuesday afternoon at 2 o’clock on November 30, 1875, the “Sunnyside” left Troy for her last trip of the season, and what later proved to be the final sailing of her career. The following account is told by George W. Murdock, a member of the crew on this last trip, who was an eye-witness to the fateful voyage and who narrowly escaped the clutching fingers of death which claimed many victims in that early morning catastrophe.

​We left New York Monday, November 29, and headed up river with a heavy cargo of freight. The thermometer in New York registered from 40 to 45 degrees above zero at the time we left the dock. Coming up the river, the temperature rapidly changed, becoming much colder until at Kingston we began pushing our way through thin ice. We arrived at Troy at 8 o’clock Tuesday morning, November 30, with the thermometer registering zero. Unloading was accomplished as quickly as possible with the temperature hovering at zero throughout the day.

On reaching Albany we took the steamboat “Golden Gate” in tow to follow us down the river. We broke through the drift ice from Troy to Kinderhook, there encountering solid ice. The steamboat “Niagara,” with a tow of canal boats and several schooners, lay ice-bound at this place. We left the “Golden Gate” also ice-bound, and backed and filled several times, breaking a course through the ice and relieving the ice-bound fleet; after which we proceeded down the river.

At Barrytown it was discovered that our vessel was leaking, and the pumps were started. At Esopus Island we ran through clear water which washed away the fine ice which had formed about the hole which had been made on the port side when we had crashed through the ice at Kinderhook. We were off West Park and endeavored to make shore at Russell’s dock as we were leaking badly by this time. The “Sunnyside” went through thick ice on the west bank of the river, but slid back into deep water. The flood time swung the bow of the vessel up the river until the pilot house was filled with water, and all that remained out of water was about 40 feet of the hurricane deck, aft.

This was 2 o’clock in the morning and the weather was bitter cold, the thermometer registering five below zero. Captain Teson, in charge of the “Sunnyside,” ordered the boats to be lowered, sending Mate Burhonce in charge of the first one. It capsized, drowning 11 out of 18 passengers and crew. The mate swam ashore. We then succeeded in getting a line ashore from the steamboat and so established a rope ferry. It was now 5 o’clock in the morning.

In this fashion we pulled the life boat through the ice and the passengers and crew of the ill-fated steamboat were landed on snow-covered shore of Ulster county. They climbed the rocks along the shore and made their way to the farm houses in the vicinity where every attention possible was given them, but several died from the results of too long exposure.

Among those lost were Sarah Butler and Susan Rex (colored), of New York, chambermaids; John Howard (colored), of New York, officers’ waiter; Samuel Puteage (colored), waiter, of New York; Matthew Johnson (colored), of Albany; George Green (colored), second cook, of Norwich, Connecticut; Mrs. Haywood of Tenafly, N.J., Mrs. Stewart of New York, Mrs. Walker of Troy, an Irish girl called Bridget, resident of Jersey City; and an unknown peddler of silks and jewelry.

At the request of my uncle, Abram Parsell, of Port Ewen, who was chief engineer on the “Sunnyside,” I set out afoot for Port Ewen at 6 o’clock on that bleak morning of December 1, to break the news of the disaster to his wife and the people of the town. At that time the thermometer had gone down to six degrees below zero and hiking that distance of about 10 miles was rather a task. Stories of the tragic accident had already arrived at Port Ewen so my news that my uncle was safe was joyously received by his many friends in the town.

The crew of the “Sunnyside” were: Captain Frank Teson of Lansingburg; first pilot, Robert Whittaker of Saugerties; second pilot, Watson Dutcher of New York; mate, Jacob Burhonce of Troy; chief engineer, Abram Parsell of Port Ewen; assistant engineer, Jerry Deyo of Port Ewen; purser, John Talmadge of New Baltimore; steward, George Wolcott of New York; freight clerk, Edward Johnson of Troy.

​The “Sunnyside” was raised and her hull broken up, while her engines were placed in the steamboat “Saratoga.”

Today's Featured Artifact is this beautiful brass engine room gong, once found on a steamboat owned by the Homer Ramsdell Transportation Company, based in Newburgh.

Most steamboats and many diesel tugs were known as "bell boats," meaning the captain or pilot and the engineers communicated by a system of bells. Up in the wheelhouse, the pilot could only control the direction of the boat, with the pilot's wheel. If he wanted to change direction or speed, he had to communicate with the engineers down in the engine room. Imagine driving a car where one person is steering, and another person, who cannot see the road, is controlling the gas pedal and brakes. Thankfully, most boats are not as fast or maneuverable as a car, but the changes still had to be quickly executed to ensure safe and smooth operation of the boat.

The larger, louder bell, called a "gong," signaled a change in direction. Smaller bells, called "jingles," usually signaled a change in speed. Controls in the pilot house were connected to the bells in the engine room, making them ring. Many transportation companies had their own code, although New York Harbor had a code shared by many boats. 

In this sound clip, collected by steamboat sound recording enthusiast Conrad Milster, we can hear the gong and jingle aboard the Newburgh ferryboat Dutchess. 

Here are some examples of simplified bell signals, to give you an idea of how the system would work.

When the steamboat was stopped:

• 1 gong = work ahead (move forwards)
• 2 gongs = go astern (backwards)

When working ahead or backing (moving forwards or backwards):

• 1 gong = stop

Jingles to change speed:

• 1 jingle = increase speed
• 2 jingles = decrease speed

Signals could also be combined. For example, when stopped:

• 1 gong and 2 jingles = dead slow ahead
• 2 gongs and 1 jingle = half speed astern (backwards)

Mystic Seaport operates a historic steamboat that still uses the bell and jingle system. In this video, the captain of the Sabino explains how he and the engineer communicate. The video includes great footage from the engine room as well. 

You can visit the museum's engine room gong, which is on permanent display in the East Gallery, along with many other fascinating maritime artifacts, at the Hudson River Maritime Museum. We hope to see you soon!

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 history of Black Americans is often purposely erased, so when conducting research for our new exhibit, “Mary Powell: Queen of the Hudson,” I was delighted to find several references to Black and African-American crew working aboard the Mary Powell.

One of the first clues we found was a photo of the crew, including a lone woman – Fannie M. Anthony [also spelled “Fanny”] – who was listed as the “stewardess” of the Mary Powell. Clearly Black or mixed race, I had to find out more about this intriguing woman. Although the research wasn’t especially easy, it was less difficult than I expected, because it turned out that Fannie was famous. 

Fannie M. Anthony was born on June 27, 1827 in New York City. Often listed in Census records as “mulatto,” according to a 1907 Daily Freeman article, “[h]er father was an East Indian, and her mother a full-blooded Indian of the Montauk tribe.”[1] In Census records, her father, Charles R. Smith is listed as “mulatto” and born in 1797 in New York (with his father listed as being born in Nevis, West Indies and his mother in New York), and her mother, Mary Walker, as born on Long Island.[2]

It is certainly possible that her mother was Montauk, but it is unlikely that her father was East Indian. Few, if any East Indians emigrated to the United States before 1830. In the 1900 Census and her 1914 death record, her race is listed as Black.[3] Many people of African descent often concealed their heritage in an attempt to deflect the worst effects of racism. In addition, census takers and journalists were often subject to their own personal biases, conscious or unconscious, and assigned race accordingly.

Fannie’s husband was Cornelius Anthony, born in 1825 in New Jersey. Census records also list him as “mulatto,” and the 1880 Census lists him as a steward aboard a steamboat. [4] Sadly, it does not indicate which one, although his 1900 obituary lists him as working aboard “Albany boats.”[5] It would be kismet if he and Fannie both worked aboard the Mary Powell, but that cannot be confirmed. He is listed as a carpenter in the 1900 Census, but other information in that record, including the spelling of names and birthdates, is inaccurate.

Cornelius died on or before Monday, July 16, 1900. The following day, the Brooklyn Daily Eagle published his obituary. It read, “Jamaica, L. I., July 17 – Cornelius Anthony, aged 69 years, a negro, a well known and respected resident of this place, died at his home on Willow street on Friday. Deceased was for many years head steward on the Albany boats and was known as a caterer of considerable note. He was at one time sexton of the Methodist Church of Jamaica. He leaves a widow and many near friends and relatives. Internment was made yesterday, at Maple Grove Cemetery.”[6]
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An 1894 article in the Brooklyn Times Union indicates that he was sexton of the Methodist Episcopal Church at that time. Although we do not know which vessels he worked on as a steward, he must have had considerable skill in his management of the dining rooms, as his obituary also notes his fame as a caterer.

It is unclear when Fannie began her work as the “chambermaid” of the Mary Powell, although sources (listed below) suggest a start date of 1869 or 1870. Her occupation in the 1880 Census, at age 52, is listed as “steamer chambermaid.” Identified alternately as “chambermaid,” “stewardess,” and “lady’s maid,” Fannie worked in the “ladies’ cabin” of the steamboat Mary Powell.

In a private home, a Victorian era chambermaid cleaned and maintained bedroom suites. Ladies’ maids assisted upper class women with dressing, cared for their wardrobe, and dressed hair. As a day boat, the Mary Powell did not have sleeping cabins, so it is likely that the “ladies’ cabin” was a “saloon” or public indoor space designed specifically for women, likely including toilet facilities, couches, and other private comforts.

Since the days of Robert Fulton’s North River Steamboat, a separate, private cabin for women was reserved, allowing delicate Victorian sensibilities to relax, knowing that white women were protected from the attentions of single men. Fannie Anthony likely would have cleaned and maintained this space and assisted female passengers with requests, much like the steward would do for the rest of the steamboat. In all likelihood, as a “stewardess,” Fannie’s role was probably similar to that of a housekeeper in a wealthy household. Her husband Cornelius, as a steward, likely had a job similar to a household butler. In particular, he would oversee dining facilities and public spaces, ensuring their cleanliness and smooth operation, and overseeing waitstaff, porters, etc.

One of the earliest newspaper articles about her is a very complimentary one. Published in the Monday, September 17, 1894 issue of the Brooklyn Times Union, it quotes the Newburgh Sunday Telegram. The article, titled, “Compliments for a Jamaica Woman” reads:
“A correspondent of the Newburgh Sunday Telegram speaks very pleasantly of Mrs. Fannie Anthony, for many years stewardess of the North River steamer Mary Powell. Mrs. Anthony is a Jamaica woman, and the wife of Cornelius Anthony, sexton of the Methodist Episcopal Church in Jamaica. The correspondent says:

“’Mrs. Fannie Anthony, the efficient and obliging stewardess on the steamer Mary Powell, is about concluding her twenty-fifth season in that capacity. Mrs. Anthony enjoys an acquaintance among the ladies along the Hudson River that is both interesting and highly complimentary to the amiable disposition and cheery manner of the only female among the crew of the favorite steamboat. Mrs. Anthony travels over 15,000 miles every summer while attending to her duties on the boat. She seldom misses a trip and looks the picture of health and happiness. Many are the compliments I have heard from Newburg ladies of the genial stewardess’ worth aboard the boat. Rich and poor are alike to her. Her smile and mien are as cheery on a stormy day as on one of sunshine. Every member of the crew pays the homage due her, and the Captain thinks the boat couldn’t run without the stewardess. She is the second oldest traveler now aboard the vessel, but this statement does not imply that Mrs. Anthony is by any means very old. She is well preserved and active, and in every way a credit to her sex and race. Good luck to her.’”[7]

Note that the “Jamaica” woman refers to Jamaica, Long Island – it does not connect Fannie to the Caribbean island of Jamaica. If she was finishing her 25th season in the fall of 1894, that gives her a start date of 1869.

This article is very respectful, particularly when compared with subsequent publications. Fannie is referred to as “Mrs.” and by her full name.

A 1902 New York Press article about her, when she would have been 75 years old, writes, “She looks as young as when she bustled about in the saloon in 1860, her chocolate complexion betraying no ravages of time.”[8] It is unlikely that Fannie started in 1860. For one, the Mary Powell was not even built until 1861. In addition to the Brooklyn Times Union reference, which indicates a start date of 1869, a 1907 article in the Daily Freeman indicates that she had been in service aboard the Mary Powell “for thirty-seven continuous years,” giving her a start date of 1870.[9] Regardless of when she actually started her work, by the turn of the 20th Century she was a Hudson River legend.

An issue of the Newburgh Register from sometime after August 12, 1900 reads, “Mrs. Fannie Anthony, who for the past thirty years has been employed as a lady’s maid on the steamer Mary Powell, is spending the summer at Kingston, her daughter having taken her position on the Powell.” But clearly, as subsequent articles indicate, Fannie did not retire in 1900 and no mention is made of which daughter may have ultimately taken her place.

She is mentioned again in the May 6, 1902 issue of New York Press. In a gossip column entitled, “On the Tip of the Tongue,” following a brief description of the Mary Powell, there is a whole section entitled “Fanny.” The article is transcribed verbatim:
“’Fanny’ is known to a majority of regular travelers on the Hudson as the stewardess of the Mary Powell, a billet she has held ever since the boat was launched. No one knows her age, but it must be 80. She looks as young as when she bustled about in the saloon in 1860, her chocolate complexion betraying no ravages of time. The multitudes that have been in her care never bothered to inquire about her surname, but accepted her as ‘Fanny,’ and ‘Fanny’ she is to all. This good woman and my old friend H. R. Van Keuren are the only two living of the early crew of the Mary Powell. ‘Van’ has just celebrated his fiftieth birthday. He resigned the stewardship of the boat in 1876, I think, and got rich in another business. Recently when he stepped upon the deck of the Mary, who should run up and throw her arms about his neck but faithful old ‘Fanny?’”[10]

In reality she was 75, not 80 years old. This article, like several that follow, speak of Fannie in a condescending way, consistent with the racism of the day. In addition, Fannie’s position as chambermaid or stewardess meant that she was likely treated as a servant, albeit an upper level one. Hence the passengers never bothering to “inquire about her surname.” A stark contrast to the earlier, more respectful article of 1894.

On Wednesday, July 24, 1907, The Kingston Daily Freeman published on page 8 an article entitled, “Fannie of the Powell: A Character and Fixture on the Steamer.” It reads:
“Almost everyone who has even been on the Mary Powell has seen the stewardess, ‘Fannie,’ says the Poughkeepsie Star. She has been on the boat for thirty-seven continuous years. Her name is Fannie M. Anthony. Her father was an East Indian, and her mother a full blooded Indian of the Montauk tribe. She has the shoes that her grandmother was married in, and a copper kettle one hundred years old. She is a very fine looking woman, and talks history with authority. She has met in her time thousands of people, the majority of whom have passed away. All the prominent men who travel shake hands with Fannie and have an old-time chat with her. She is exceedingly interesting and full of [maint?] humor. She hates a snob, and knows ladies and gentlemen at sight. Fannie is the pet of the public and the faithful and honored servant of the Powell.”[11]

This article reflects the changing times and a new veneration for elders who had lived through a history-making era. The references to the 100-year-old copper kettle, her grandmother’s shoes (perhaps Montauk), and all the people who have “passed away” is not only establishing her as someone who can “[talk] history with authority,” but also establishing her as a third-generation free American, distancing her from the possible taint of slavery. Her role in public service and her long tenure aboard the Mary Powell led to her fame and the fondness with which newspapers and general public spoke of her.

Fannie retired from the Mary Powell in 1912, at age 85. She died on May 26, 1914 in Queens, just short of her 87th birthday, and was buried May 28, 1914 in Maple Grove Cemetery, in Kew Gardens, Queens.[12] Her husband Cornelius was also buried in Maple Grove Cemetery.  

Like Cornelius, she received a formal published obituary, emphasizing her status and fame in the community. On Thursday, June 4, 1914, the Poughkeepsie Evening Enterprise published “Aunt Fannie, of the Mary Powell Dies:”
“Mrs. Fannie Anthony, who for 39 years was chambermaid in charge of the ladies’ cabin on the steamer Mary Powell, died at her home at Jamaica, Long Island, on Friday, aged 87 years. She was in active service on the Powell until failing health and advancing years compelled her to give up her work two years ago, when she was succeeded by her daughter. To the traveling public she was familiarly known as ‘Aunt Fannie,’ and hundreds of visitors on whom she waited during her service have pleasant recollections of her. She began under the late Captain Frost, and continued under Captain Absalom Anderson, Captain ‘Billy’ Cornell and Captain A. Elting Anderson.”[13]

Two days later, on Saturday, June 6, 1914, Fannie made front page news in the Rockland County Journal – “Aged Chambermaid of Mary Powell Dead” – a verbatim reprint of the above Evening Enterprise obituary.[14]

The nickname “Aunt Fannie” is a complicated one. On the one hand, it likely was used by most as a term of endearment. However, the use of the word “aunt” in relation to older Black women in the 19th and early 20th century, especially by white people, is often a derogatory honorific. By using the terms “aunt” and “uncle,” white people could avoid using the more respectful “Mrs.” And “Mr.” with elder people of color, maintaining the racial hierarchy of white supremacy. People of all races in service were often referred to only by their first name as a way of highlighting their subservient role. At the same time, the Evening Enterprise also refers to her as “Mrs. Fannie Anthony,” giving her the proper honorific.

Here we also have confirmation that she was, indeed, succeeded by her daughter, although we still do not know which one. An Ada Anthony, granddaughter of Charles R. Smith (and therefore probably Fannie and Cornelius’ daughter) is listed in the 1880 Census, born in 1862.[15] By the 1910 Census, Cornelius is dead and Fannie is living alone with her widowed daughter (listed as granddaughter in the 1900 Census) Mary R. Smith and a boarder.[16]

Newspaper searches for Ada and Mary have so far revealed no leads. The Mary Powell itself was taken out of service in 1917, just five short years after Fannie’s retirement.

Fannie M. Anthony walked a delicate balance in the 19th and 20th centuries aboard the steamboat Mary Powell. Although she occupied a service role, often one of the few avenues of employment open to Black people, it seems that through sheer force of personality, excellence, and longevity, she managed to overcome some of the obstacles that faced most women of color at the time. Like the steamboat Mary Powell herself, Fannie achieved a measure of fame not usually afforded ordinary people.
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I hope that by sharing Fannie Anthony’s story, we can help bring more details of her life and her family to light. If you have any information about the Anthony family not featured here, please contact the Hudson River Maritime Museum. We will update this article with more information when possible.

In this "Featured Artifact" post, we're examining two cloth items in our collection - a pair of hat bands from the Hudson River Day Line.

Much like Naval ships, steamboat crews wore formal uniforms and there was a hierarchy of crew within each department. Of the two hatbands, one is a more general one that simply reads "Day Line," indicating the crew member worked for the Hudson River Day Line steamboat company.

​The other hatband, reading, "2nd Mate," indicates the rank of the bearer. Second Mates are usually third in command of a vessel (behind the Captain or Master and First Mate) and usually act as watchkeeper, ensuring crew rotate through four hour watches and managing vessel safety and security. Sometimes they also serve as navigator. 

Both of these hatbands date to the 1930s, a time when the Hudson River Day Line was at its height. 

In this photograph of Hudson River Day Line senior staff of the steamboat Peter Stuyvesant, from 1947, you can see the uniforms and the clear ranks on their hats. The captain (Frank Briggs) wears a white hat to differentiate him from other officers. His hat band insignia is larger and clearly reads "Captain."

Although difficult to read in this image, the other officers are also wearing hatbands clearly denoting their ranks. To the left of the captain is the Chief Engineer, and to the left of him, the First (1st) Mate. To the far right, seated, is the Purser, the man responsible for ticketing and purchases aboard the ship. Can you tell what the other hat bands say?

Note also that the senior officers wear double-breasted jackets, and the junior officers single-breasted jackets. 

Unfortunately, only Captain Frank Briggs is identified in this image. If you recognize any of these men, please let us know! 

By the 1960s, all crew hats were changed to white, but the uniforms were changed and, depending on the department, became less formal.

​Did you or anyone you know work aboard a Day Line vessel? What was their role? Tell us in the comments!