Editor's Note: This story is from the October 5, 1889 issue of Harper's Weekly. ​The tone of the article reflects the time period in which it was written.

"A Barge Party - On our next page we have a view of a merry party enjoying a moonlight row on the Hudson River. The barge belongs to the Nyack Rowing Association. The scene is that wide and beautiful expanse of the Hudson which our Dutch ancestors named the Tappan Zee. It lies between Tarrytown and Nyack, and although not beyond the reach of tide-water and subject to the current, it still possesses the attraction of a calm and beautiful lake. Viewed from certain points it loses the impression of a river altogether, and seems a fair and beautiful sheet of water locked in by towering hills. The light-house in the centre of the picture is known as the Tarrytown Bay Light. On the left lies Kingsland Island, and in the background we have the village of Tarrytown, adorned with its gleaming electric lights.

These rowing parties are a source of keen delight to the lady friends of the members of each association. So far the clubs had not yielded sufficiently to the spirit of the age to admit lady members, and if any one connected with the association desires to give his fair friends an outing, he must engage the barge beforehand and make it a special event. As a general thing it is required that some member of the club shall act as coxswain; this to assure safety to the previous craft. The party may then be made up in accordance with the fancy of the gentleman who acts as host. Most of the associations have very attractive club-houses, where, after the pleasure of rowing has begun to pall, parties can assemble, have supper, and if there are lady guests sufficient, enjoy a dance. The club-house of the Nyack Association is a very attractive structure, built over the water, and forms a pleasant feature in the landscape. The members of these clubs are not heavily taxed, their dues scarcely amounting to more than $25 or $50 per year, yet their club-houses are daintily furnished, their boats of the best and finest build, and all their appurtenances of a superior order. So much can be done by combination.

In our glorious Hudson River we have a stream that the world cannot rival, so wonderful is its picturesque loveliness. High upon the walls of the Governor’s Room in the New York City Hall is a dingy painting of a broad-headed, short-haired, sparsely bearded man, with an enormous ruff about his neck, and wearing otherwise the costume of the days of King James the First of England. Who painted it nobody knows, but all are well aware that it is the portrait of one Hendrik Hudson, who “on a May-day morning knelt in the church of St. Ethelburga, Amsterdam, and partook of the sacrament, and soon after left the Thames for circumpolar waters.” It was on the 11th of September, 1609, that this same mariner passed through a narrow strait on an almost unknown continent, and entered upon a broad stream where “the indescribable beauty of the virgin land through which he was passing filled his heart and mind with exquisite pleasure.”
​
The annually increasing army of tourists and pleasure seekers, which begin their campaign every spring and continue their march until late in the autumn, sending every year a stronger corps of observation into these enchanted lands, all agree with Hendrik Hudson. Certainly it only remains for tradition to weave its romances, and for a few of our more gifted poets and story-tellers to guild with their imagination these wonderful hills and valleys, these sunny slopes and fairy coves and inlets, to make for us an enchanted land that shall rival the heights where the spectre of the Brocken dwells, or any other elf-inhabited spot in Europe.

Editor's Note: This article is from the November 7, 1891 issue of Harper's Weekly. The tone of the article reflects the time period in which it was written. ​

                          "Getting on Top of the Palisades by Jno. Gilmer Speed
The largest elevators for carrying passengers in the world have just been completed on the banks of the Hudson, near Weehawken. The high table-land in New Jersey, opposite New York city, and between the Hudson River and the Hackensack, has up to this time not been used as generally for purposes of pleasure and residence as it should have been. This elevated plain, known as the Palisades, is at its beginning some one hundred and fifty feet above high tide, and is over a mile wide at the same point. It stretches north for many miles up the Hudson River, and naturally rises in elevation as it proceeds. This high land has been accessible only by steep grades for wagon roads, and by means of stairways which climbed laboriously up the steep cliff. The Hudson County Railway Company, which operates the elevated road at Hoboken and controls many of the street car lines in that neighborhood, has of late years been extending these lines, and increasing the facilities for getting on top of the Palisades, and from one part of this high plateau to another. The most recent addition to the plant of this company has been the building of huge elevators at Weehawken, where the ferry-boats from Forty-second Street and Jay Street, New York city, discharge their passengers, and where also the West Shore Railway starts north and west to Albany and Buffalo. These elevators are the largest ever constructed for passengers, and in planning them the engineers have adopted new devices to secure their safety against accidents. From the elevators, which rise just from the water’s edge, there is an immense viaduct or elevated railroad which runs some eight hundred feet back to the hill, where connections will be made with the various steam and horse cars which will run in one direction and another.

In crossing the Hudson River from New York the stilt-like structure for the elevators and railroad cars looks frail and delicate, and suggest more a spider’s web than a very stable and solid structure capable of carrying immense weights and moving loads, and still having a surplus strength very much beyond the weight which could ever be placed upon it. At a distance one cannot fail to have the feeling that the structure is too light and insecure to ever do any very heavy or continuous work. This feeling is very much the same that one experiences in looking from a distance at the high curve on the New York Ninth Avenue elevated road above the Central Park. Arrived at Weehawken, however, and standing under the structure, the veriest novice in bridge-building cannot fail to be impressed with the strength and solidity of these steel piers and trusses. They do not look light now, but seem entirely sufficient to do the Titan’s work for which they were designed. What this work is may be gathered from the fact that in every hour six thousand persons can be taken each way, up and down the elevators and to and fro across the viaduct, which is 153 feet above the water. Elevators have never before been asked to do such work as this.
The elevator tower has been made for three cars, each of which will hold one hundred and thirty-five persons. They run independent of each other, and all can be going either up or down at the same time, or variously, as desired. The doors are almost as wide as the cars, and the conductor with a simple device opens and closes both doors at once. On one side the passengers are discharged, and they enter from the other end; therefore, when there is a rush of travel, the cars will empty and fill at the same moment. The elevators are designed to have a speed of 400 feet a minute, but it is not proposed to run them faster than 200 feet a minute. At this rate each elevator will take up the 153 feet from the water’s edge to the viaduct 135 persons in 45 seconds, and it is estimated that in 30 seconds more the passengers can be discharged and a new load taken on. For the ordinary traffic there would be no need for such quick work or so large a capacity as this, but within a short time places of amusement and a race-track have been started near Weehawken.  To these places and from them great and impatient crowds come and leave at the same hour, and it is necessary to handle a whole boat or train load at once.

The power to run the elevators is hydraulic, the water being stored in compressed tanks under a pressure of 190 pounds per square inch by means of two compound condensing Worthington pumps of about 85-horse power each. Only two of these boilers, however, will be used at once, and the third will be held in reserve. The same firm which built the lifts in the Eiffel Tower has designed and constructed these enormous elevators.  F.E. Brown, Jun., of the Otis Company, designed the whole elevator plant, the engineer in charge in both instances being Mr. Joseph R. Furman, of the same company. Mr. Furman is a young man, not yet twenty-seven, and has justified the responsibility intrusted to him most admirably.

The most important feature in the construction of an elevator is the device for stopping it in case of an accident. In nearly all of the modern elevators these devices have been made to act automatically, so that nothing need depend upon the skill, courage, or presence of mind of the conductor. Were this not so, it would test the courage of any man to trust himself to the careless men in charge of the elevators in the large office buildings, the architects of which usually specify that the elevators shall have a speed of 700 feet per minute. It is true that none of them goes so fast as this, for the reason that it would be impossible for the conductors to stop accurately at the several floors to discharge or take on passengers. But it is pleasant to know that even though a conductor should lose his head, or the car break loose from its ropes, it would be stopped by the devices now in general use, and no one would be hurt. The testing of these devices is therefore most important, and the test applied by the builders to these huge cars which are to lift people to a level with the top of the Palisades was watched with interest by all concerned. The apparatus for testing consisted of a heavy timber trestle supporting the guide strips, between which a temporary cage loaded with 84,000 pounds of cast iron – equivalent to the weight of the cars and their load of people – was suspended on a trip lever, the support of which could be disengaged by pulling on a light line. The safety grips, which were the actual ones to be used in the permanent elevators, were placed under the cage, one on each side, in their proper position with relation to the guide strips. From each safety grip a light line, representing the governor ropes to be used on the elevators, was carried to and attached to the cross-head of the timber trestle.

At the signal the lanyard was pulled and the cage with its load released. It dropped freely about two inches, when the safety engaged with the guide strips, and after a further slide of one and three-quarter inches came to rest without shock. Then another test was made with 2000 pounds more of iron added, and the result was substantially the same. Then came a third test, for the personal satisfaction of the engineers who had designed the safety device. With a load of 36,000 pounds they let the car fall ten inches before the safeties were applied, and on this occasion the car dropped only eighteen inches. This was eminently satisfactory to them, as had also been the other tests.

The guide strips are of yellow pine, six inches by eight inches, built up in three pieces of two and two-thirds by six inches, strongly spiked together, and are secured to the latticed channel iron posts of the elevator tower by three-quarter-inch bolts spaced about fourteen-inch centres; the heads of these bolts are countersunk in the faces of the guide strips, so as to leave a smooth guiding surface. The safety grips consist of forgings with a rectangular notch surrounding the guide strip, the edges of the notch being beveled to form cutting edges. Below the main forging is bolted a plate with a similar notch, but having toothed edges, the whole swinging on a centre so placed that when the safety is in normal position the toothed and chisel edges are well clear of the guide strips, but when swung outward they engage and cut into the guide strip on its face and two sides. The test on the Eiffel Tower elevators loaded with 32,000 pounds was very gratifying to the French engineers. On the first elevator, when the ropes were cut, the car fell twelve feet. On the second car, when the safeties had been readjusted, and the same weight put on, the fall was only eight inches.

The largest elevator in use in New York city is that in the tower of the Produce Exchange. This will carry fifty persons.  This was also the capacity of the cars in the Eiffel Tower. It will be seen, therefore, that each of these new elevators to the top of the Palisades has a capacity more than two and half times greater than those which were popularly heretofore thought to be quite as large as lifts could be safely constructed. The Weehawken structure will be finished and thrown open about the middle of November. It will be interesting to see how easily large numbers of people can be taken up and down in this manner, for in the plans now under advisement for giving rapid transit to New York city by means of deep underground roads, the elevator for raising and lowering passengers is a very important feature of the scheme."

Read about the current status of the elevator here.

Editor's Note: These articles are from 1801 and 1824. 

 November 16, 1801 -  Daily Advertiser (New York, New York),
 On Saturday night last, about 11 o'clock, Mr. Robert Richardson, a gentleman we understand from New Ark [sic], was leaning over the railing of the Battery, and fell into the North River.  About two hours after, he was taken up off the White-hall dock by the people on board the sloop Mink from Albany -- who accidentally heard his cries, and who preserved him, when exhausted and powerless, he was beginning to sink amidst the pitiless waves.

 June 4, 1824 -  Spectator (New York, New York)
                                             WONDERFUL PRESERVATION.
On Friday last, a lad, son of Mr. Frederick Hazen, of West Springfield, Mass. while on a passage from New-York to Albany, was accidentally knocked overboard by the jib while beating.  The wind blowing heavy and the waves running high, it was thought by all on board that all attempts to save him would be fruitless, as well as extremely hazardous.  The small boat being at the time hoisted under the stern of the sloop, a young man by the name of Richard Schuyler, son of Capt. Samuel Schuyler, of the sloop, sprang into the boat at the risk of his life, was lowered down, and alone and single handed, gallantly dashed through the waves, and to the astonishment of the amazed spectators rescued the lad from a watery tomb, just as he was about sinking to rise no more.  Such an act as this reflects the highest honor on the noble minded young man who periled his own life to save that of a fellow being, and a stranger.

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. See more of Murdock's articles in "Steamboat Biographies". See more Sunday News here.

                                                              No. 60- C.W. Morse
The 427 foot “C.W. Morse” was built in 1903 for the People’s Line of Albany, and was the first of the steamboats to be constructed with a steel hull. She was one of the most luxurious steamers built for Hudson river travel up to that time and was constructed to run in line with the magnificent “Adirondack” which had set a standard for excellent steamboat accommodations. The “C.W. Morse” had no less than 450 staterooms exclusive of those used by the officers.

The travelers first impression of the “C.W. Morse” was gained upon entrance into the magnificently proportioned and richly finished lobby or reception hall. On one side a beautiful mahogany stairway led up to the salon. From the vantage point of this stairway one could get a fine view of the lobby, brilliant in its gilded arched ceiling and exquisite mural decorations, and the dining saloon, a regal apartment with large windows closely set with an average breadth of 58 feet and with a seating capacity of 300 people. In addition to this main salon there were two handsomely furnished private dining rooms with richly carved mahogany woodwork and the ceiling decorated in gold and white and illuminated by 250 electric bulbs held in bronze-green fixtures.

There were a number of deluxe cabins whose walls were hung in silk and cotton of pleasing pinks, blues, and greens, and ceilings done in ivory and gold. These cabins were richly furnished with double beds, and had private baths and the arrangements were such that the cabins could be taken separately or in a suite.

The decks of the “C.W. Morse” were of unusual width and the upper deck permitted an unobstructed promenade around the entire steamer. Aft upon this upper deck was the large Palm Garden with the café adjoining it.

The “C.W. Morse” was equipped with electric thermostatic push buttons, fire alarms, automatic whistles, watchmen’s clock, telephones for special service, and where auxiliaries were not run by steam, electric motors were used. Two complete and separate systems of steering gear were used- steam driven and hand-driven.

A regular floating palace- that was the term that describes the “C.W. Morse.” The People’s Line had omitted nothing in her construction or equipment which made for safety or comfort, and no detail of luxury had been slighted.

In the fall of 1917 the “C.W. Morse” was acquired by the Federal Government and taken to the Brooklyn Navy Yard where she was used for housing navy recruits. At the close of the war she was returned to her old New York-Albany run. In 1923 she was renamed the “Fort Orange” and continued in regular service until 1927 when she was laid up at Athens and was used only occasionally after that. In the summer of 1935, after having been gradually stripped of her furnishings for use on other boats, she was taken to New Haven, Conn., and partially broken up. The hull was taken intact to Bridgeport, Conn., where it was installed as a breakwater at the entrance to the harbor.

Editor's Note: These articles are from 1761 to 1818. ​See more Sunday News here.

March 23, 1761 - New York Gazette (Weyman's) 
To Be Sold. By the Widow Egberts, in Albany.
A good sizable Sloop, used in the Trade between that City and New York, together with her Apparel, & c. As also, a likely young Negro Man, fit for Town or Country

January 9, 1809 - New-York Gazette & General Advertiser 
for sale, The fine and staunch sloop EDWARD, 73 tons burthen, built on the model of the patent brig Achilles, and is supposed to be the swiftest sailor on the North River; has been employed as a packet between Poughkeepsie and New-York, and has elegant accommodations for passengers; her rigging and sails (which are new) in prime order.  She may be viewed in Lent's bason, near Whitehall.  Price low and terms of payment liberal.  Apply to JOHN RADCLIFF.

March 21, 1818 - Mercantile Advertiser (New York, N. Y.)
FOR SALE The staunch sloop KNICKERBOCKER, burthen 93 tons, built of the best materials, 18 months old, well calculated for a coaster or the North river trade.  One half or the whole, will be disposed of on liberal terms.  Apply to WM. R. HITCHCOCK & CO. corner Peck-slip and South-st.

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. See more of Murdock's articles in "Steamboat Biographies". See more Sunday News here.

                                              No. 61- Benjamin B. Odell
The 264 foot steamer, “Benjamin B. Odell”, was built for the Central Hudson Steamboat Company for service on the Hudson River, and made her first trip on April 10, 1911. She was capable of making over 20 knots an hour and was one of the finest boats of her type on the Hudson river.

The main deck was set aside for freight, but there was a quarter deck passenger entrance with the purser’s office and auxiliary smoking room at one side. Broad stairs led from the deck to the main saloon above. In the extreme after end of the deckhouse was located the kitchen. The grand saloon of the “Odell” was made up of two decks, fore and aft, with galleries. On the fourth or hurricane deck was an observation room.

The “Benjamin B. Odell” had 63 staterooms and 126 berths. These staterooms were all outside rooms with two windows apiece and were furnished in very comfortable manner. The dining room was located on the third deck, extending the full width of the cabin and containing 20 tables seating 100 people.

The pilot house of the “Odell” was large and fully equipped, having both hand and steam steering wheels independent of one another. The captain’s room was directly aft of the pilot house with a door connecting, and built like that of an ocean liner.

Although originally built for night service between New York and Rondout, the “Odell” was capable of being used on day excursions and her license called for 2,533 passengers when she was carrying freight. Without cargo, her capacity was rated as 3,050 passengers.

The “Benjamin B. Odell” was commanded by F.L. Simpson, who was promoted from the “William F. Romer”, where he had been in charge for eight years.

On Friday, February 26, 1937, as the “Benjamin B. Odell” laid at the Rosoff dock at Marlborough where it had been tied up for the winter season, a mysterious fire completely destroyed the huge steamer. Today she still lies at the dock, a charred mass of twisted and tangled wreckage, a sad reminder of the once fine steamboat of the Hudson.

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. See more of Murdock's articles in "Steamboat Biographies". See more Sunday News here.

                                             No. 25- Albany - 1820s 
The first steamboat on the Hudson river named the “Albany” was built in 1826 at Philadelphia by J. Vaughan for James A. Stevens to run on the New York and Albany route in line with the “New Philadelphia”. She arrived at New York from Philadelphia on April 8, 1827, and began her regular schedule on April 11.
              
However the first trip did not bring her to Albany as she broke several of her paddles after proceeding a few miles up the Hudson and was compelled to return to New York. Repairs were made, and Sunday, April 15, she set sail on her first regular trip under the command of J.G. Jenkins.
              
The owners of the “Albany”, the Messrs. Stevens of Hoboken, had spared no expense in an endeavor to make the new craft one of the finest on the river, even to having the panels in the cabins decorated with pictures by some of the finest artists in the country. But with all their preparations, the “Albany” did not turn out to be the fast vessel that had been expected.
              
Alterations were made to the “Albany” in an endeavor to make her into a better running vessel. Her original 147-foot hull was lengthened to 207 feet by the addition of another bow and stern. These changes had the desired effect and the “Albany” could then hold her own with the more up-to-date steamboats then appearing on the river. In 1839 the “Albany” was again lengthened to 287 feet and was widened two feet. With a sharper bow and finer lines aft, she made better time between New York and Albany. On September 25, 1840, she made the run in eight hours and 33 minutes as compared with her first record in 1827 of over 12 hours.  The “Albany” served for a few more years, sailing up and down the Hudson river, and was finally worn out and broken up.

​                                              No. 28- Albany - 1880 to 1930s
The “Albany” was built for the Hudson River Dayline in 1880 and was the first iron steamboat constructed for the Hudson river travel since the building of the “Iron Witch” in 1846, later called the “Erie.” The new craft supplanted the “Daniel Drew” and made her first regular trip from New York to Albany on July 2, 1880. The 300 foot vessel was much admired for her graceful proportions, and when she is moving through the water at her regular speed, she causes but little commotion, and shows great stability when heavily loaded with passengers.
              
For the first time in the history of river steamboats, three boilers and three smokestacks were placed side by side instead of one behind the other, a deviation which gave the boat a very different appearance from the usual style. Other alterations were made from time to time until the present boat is a far cry from the original built in 1880.

The “Albany” made a fast trip on October 22, 1884, leaving New York and arriving at Poughkeepsie in three hours and 20 minutes. For 25 years the “Albany” ran on the schedule of the Dayline with her consorts the “Chauncey Vibbard” and “New York.” In 1906 the “Hendrick Hudson” joined the fleet and the “Albany” was made into a special boat plying between New York and Poughkeepsie on one round trip per day. She continued on this run until 1913 when the Washington Irving made her first appearance on the waters of the Hudson. At this time the “Robert Fulton”, which had also been running to Albany with the “Hendrick Hudson”, was placed on the Poughkeepsie route.

At this time the famous “Mary Powell” was beginning to show signs of wear and so the “Albany” was put on the Rondout-New York route, making her first trip from Rondout on Monday, July 7, 1913, and continuing on this route until 1917. In 1918 she was chartered out for excursions and also made a special trip to Albany each Saturday.  The Albany was sold in 1935 and now [in the 1930s] plies the Potomac river as an excursion boat running out of the nation’s capitol.

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!

In 1903 the steamboat Mary Powell was making her way south to New York City when an incident occurred of such importance, it made the news in two separate newspapers. On July 10, 1903 the New York Tribune reported the incident, as did the Kingston Daily Freeman. See more Sunday News here.

MARY POWELL RUNS DOWN SNAKE. Twelve Foot Python Was Headed for Albany – The Mate Justified.
 
The mate of the Hudson River steamer Mary Powell had hard work convincing Captain A. E. Anderson that he was sane when we reported at 11 a.m. yesterday that he had sighted a twelve foot snake off the port bow and apparently heading for Albany. Later the body of a large snake drifted into the slip alongside the boat, and the mate was able to point it out to the captain with the remark: “I told you so.”

The Mary Powell was just finishing her morning trip from Kingston with a goodly number of passengers when the mate, William B. Maines, ran up to Captain Anderson in the Pilot House.

“Snake off the port bow,” he reported.

“What’s the matter, mate?” said the captain, “I hope you see no pink monkeys.”

“It’s a snake, and a big one, too,” replied the mate.

Captain Anderson looked, and, sure enough, bobbing up and down in the water, was a snake, evidently a python. A moment later the boat ran the snake down and passed into her berth. Later, when the snake drifted in, it was an object of much interest, and during the day everybody having business near the Debrosses St. pier who heard about it went down to see the snake.
 
- New-York Tribune, July 10, 1903

SNAKE ON THE PORT BOW. "DON'T YOU MEAN AN ICEBERG?" SAID CAPT. ANDERSON.

The Hudson river steamboat, Mary Powell, from Kingston-on-the-Hudson, was making port at the foot of Desbrosses street yesterday morning, says the New York Sun, when the first mate, William B. Maines, approached Captain Anderson in the pilot house, and, after saluting, said:

 "Sir, I have to report that there is a large snake on our port bow."  

The captain gave the wheel a half turn and there was silence for nearly a minute. Then the mate repeated his report.  

Again a half turn of the wheel and a deep silence.  The mate then said it louder.  

"You mean an iceberg, don't you, Mr. Maines," said the captain politely.  "It is hot, isn't it?"  

The mate assured the captain that the hot weather had nothing to do with it and that his brain was working all right.  A moment later the Mary Powell ran her nose into the bobbing corpse of a twelve-foot python and shoved it toward the pier.  

Quite a crowd gathered to see the snake's body during the afternoon.

​- Kingston Daily Freeman, July 10, 1903

Pythons are not native to the Hudson River Valley, so Captain Anderson was right to be skeptical, but it sounds like Maines was, indeed, justified. Hard to argue with physical proof. In all likelihood, the snake was either an escaped or abandoned pet. 

Have you seen any odd creatures in the Hudson River? Comment with your sighting stories!

​​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: This article from the July 20, 1767 issue of the New York Mercury newspaper gives an indication of what it was like to stock up on supplies when sloops sailed on the Hudson River in the 1760s. See more Sunday News here.

The Subscriber, a Boatman, who trades from Westchester to New-York, once or Twice a Week, having for some time past been employ’d by severals, to buy and sell country produce, has it in his power to supply, and bring to New-York, for all such as shall employ him, (on a short notice, for shipping or home use, any sort of country produce, according to the season of the year, as sheep, hogs, all kinds of poultry, butter, cheese, gammons, apples, cyder, flaxseed, & c. he intending to follow the business: All persons who shall favour him with their commands, may depend on being served according to bargain made, with integrity and dispatch: He may be spoke with at Adolph Waldron’s, near the ferry stairs, or at Captain Giles’s, near the North-River, or on a line being left at either places, he will attend them where they shall direct for him to call upon them who please to employ him. Moses Watman.