The story I’m about to relate happened 45 years ago almost to the day. The incident dates back to Dec. 4, 1926 - which would make yesterday its anniversary for those who might remember.
           
In any event, when steamboating was at its peak on the Hudson River, every city and almost every village along the majestic river had a steamboat landing and was served by one or more steamboats.
           
The bigger cities and villages had direct service to New York, while the smaller villages were served by smaller connecting steamboats.

Newburgh Albany Line
And the Central Hudson Line, which operated primarily between Rondout, Poughkeepsie and Newburgh - with way landings - to New York, also operated a line between Newburgh and Albany.
           
Originally, there were two steamboats in this service, one each day in each direction, carrying freight and passengers between some 20 different landings. In its latter and declining days, the service was down to one lone steamboat - the “Jacob H. Tremper” - carrying freight only.
           
This, then, was the background for the following incident which was told to me by Jack Dearstyne Sr., the “Tremper’s” last captain.
           
It was Dec. 4, 1926 and a heavy snow storm had already set in when Capt. Dearstyne got orders at Albany to start for Newburgh where he was to lay up for the winter. As the “Tremper” made its way down the river, thick snow pelted its deck, hitting harder and harder with each mile navigated.

Two Passed By
Off Coxsackie, the crew of the “Tremper” could barely discern the outlines of the “Osceola” and the “G.C. Adams” of the Cornell Steamboat Company.  But the men of the “Tremper” knew they were indeed passing both boats as they headed slowly up river with a large tow.
           
As the “Tremper” passed Four Mile Point, four miles above Athens, the chief Engineer and the captain stood together in the pilot house…and both strained to see through the snow just as everybody else aboard was attempting to do. They all figured that if they could make Rondout, they would tie up for the night.
           
Suddenly the chief observed, “That looked like the junction buoy.” And they all agreed that it was. Said Captain Dearstyne to the pilot, “Better pull to the west,” and the maneuver was promptly executed by the pilot.
           
​But it had not been the buoy that had been spotted. Instead, the “buoy” turned out to be a large log floating in the river. And before they could back down, the “Tremper” slid up on west flat, just north of the light. Unfortunately for the boat, the time of the accident was near the end of the flood tide.

None Heard Whistle
They backed and backed and backed again - blowing the whistle - thinking and hoping that one of the tug boats they had recently passed might hear them. But neither did. From Captain Jack came this lament; “I guess this is the end of the old ‘Tremper’.”
           
But, then, just as they were about to give up all hope, they heard the muffled sound of another steamboat whistle through the swirling snow. And out of the whiteness of the storm came William H. Burlingham with the steamer “Catskill,” the freight boat of the old Catskill Evening Line.
           
It seemed that Captain Burlingham had been tied up at Stockport because of the storm. Coming to the rescue, the “Catskill” came up astern, put a hawser on the “Tremper” and pulled again and again.
           
With each pull by the “Catskill,” the “Tremper” also helped by working her engine back hard and, in the process, the “Catskill” parted several hawsers.
           
No amount of pulling seemed to help and, finally, Captain Jack yelled over to Captain Will on the “Catskill,” “I guess it’s no use. The tide is falling and her old deck planks and butts are opening up. It’s the last of the ‘Tremper.’”

A Final Try
 But Captain Will came right back with a “Let’s try once more.” Not willing to admit defeat, he had a further philosophic thought. “Both of us are getting old and so is the ‘Tremper.’ We can’t let her go without one more try.”
           
So try they did - and off she came!
           
The “Tremper” then continued on to Rondout and lay in for the night. The next day she followed the Rondout-New York boat, the “Poughkeepsie,” down the river as far as Milton, where the new ice was not so thick as it had been above. She then continued on to Newburgh where she layed up for the winter of 1926-27, and lived on to run for two more years.
           
​Captain Dearstyne was captain of the tugboat “Lion” in 1931 and I was his deckhand. And I remember him telling me then: “Always treat Will Burlingham as a gentleman as that is what he always was and always will be.”

           
In the mid-1800s, the Hudson River was a busy waterway between the fast-growing New York metropolitan area and the cities, crop lands, timber, and mining regions of the West and North. The Delaware and Hudson Canal linked the Pennsylvania coal fields to the Hudson River at its harbor town of Rondout, about one hundred miles north of New York city.
           
In the 1830s, Thomas Cornell came with a sailing sloop to Rondout to ship coal from the D&H Canal. A native of White Plains, N.Y., Cornell was just twenty-two years old. Until then, sailboats had done the work of carrying freight and passengers, but Cornell saw that steam-powered vessels were the future. In a few years, he became the owner and operator of steamboats running between Rondout and New York. Cornell settled in Rondout, where he established the Cornell Steamboat Company.
           
In those booming years of growth and construction, there was plenty of business for steamboats plying the Hudson. New York City’s thriving metropolitan area needed coal from the D&H Canal, ice that was harvested in winter from the frozen river, building material produced in the mid-Hudson valley brick, lumber, stone, and cement- and agricultural products grain, livestock, dairy, fruit, and hay- which came from near and far.
           
Rondout Creek offered the best deep-water port in the Hudson Valley and thus became the center of maritime activity between New York and Albany. The Cornell Steamboat Company made its headquarters in Rondout village, where many boats were berthed and repaired, and some were built. Between 1830 and 1900, few harbors of comparable size anywhere in America were as busy as Rondout Creek.
                                                                
By the mid-1800s, the Hudson River had many sidewheel steamboats passing north and south, one grander than the other. They carried both freight and passengers, and speed was of the essence- both for bragging rights and because passengers favored the fastest boats. In the 1860s, Thomas Cornell acquired Mary Powell, the Hudson River’s fastest and most beautiful passenger boat.
           
In this time, Cornell built a magnificent sidewheeler to ply the route from Rondout to New York. She was named in his honor- Thomas Cornell- and was one of the finest vessels operating on the Hudson.
           
Steamboats not able to compete in speed or luxury were often turned into towboats, hauling loaded barges that were lashed together to be towed up or down the river. Cornell began to develop a fleet of towboats, which in time would be replaced by tugboats, designed and built especially for towing on the river.
           
After the Civil War, Cornell was joined in the business by Samuel D. Coykendall, who became his son-in-law as well as a partner in the firm. The combination of Thomas Cornell and S.D. Coykendall soon would create the most powerful towing operation on the Hudson River. At its peak in the late 1800s, the Cornell Steamboat Company ran more than sixty towing vessels and was the largest maritime organization of its kind in the nation.
           
Early in 1890, Thomas Cornell died at home at the age of 77. In son-in-law S.D. Coykendall, Cornell had a worthy successor.
           
During a career of more than fifty years, Thomas Cornell built a mighty business empire and became a leading figure in New York and the nation. In addition to running the Cornell Steamboat Company and the Kingston-Rhinecliff ferry, he built and operated railroads on both sides of the Hudson, helped establish two banks, was a principal in a large Catskill Mountain hotel, and served two terms in Congress.
           
By 1900, the Cornell Steamboat Company had given up the passenger business and turned completely to towing. There were more than sixty steam-powered towing vessels and tugboats in the Cornell fleet. Their boilers were fired by burning coal. Cornell vessels were well-known on the river, with their familiar black and yellow smokestacks clearly recognizable from the northern canals to New York harbor.
           
As the years passed, S.D. Coykendall gave his six sons positions of authority and management in the Cornell business empire. “S.D.,” as he was known, was the leading citizen of Ulster County, heading up banks, developing railroads, operating a hotel and a ferryboat line, and building and operating trolley lines and an amusement park. He invested in many enterprises, including cement works, the ice industry, brickyards, and quarrying operations.
           
The diverse Cornell-Coykendall business empire faced rapid changes, including the coming of the automobile and the increased use of oil instead of coal as fuel. Further, new construction methods in the cities no longer required the bricks, stone, and cement of the Hudson River valley. So, there was less cargo on the river, and less work for Cornell tugboats.
           
In January 1913, S.D. Coykendall died suddenly at his home in Kingston at the age of seventy-six.
           
Frederick Coykendall, who was forty years of age, succeeded his father as president of the Cornell Steamboat Company. Frederick lived in New York and was active in alumni and trustee affairs at Columbia University. He would become chairman of the university’s board of trustees and president of the  university press.
           
Frederick Coykendall and the Cornell Steamboat Company faced adverse economic conditions that in many ways were beyond their control. Around 1930, the Hudson River was deepened to allow ocean-going ships to reach Albany and this ended the towing of grain barges. Railroads and trucks could transport most cargoes faster and more effectively than shipping them by boat. Also, electric refrigeration ended the demand for natural ice, once a major commodity towed by Cornell- as had been the Hudson Valley brick, cement, and bluestone no longer used in construction.
           
Assisting Frederick Coykendall was company vice president C.W. “Bill” Spangenberger, who had been through the ranks since joining Cornell in 1933. When Frederick passed away in 1954, Spangenberger became president. Although company executives worked hard and with considerable success to rebuild Cornell, they were forced to sell out in 1958 when their largest customer, New York Trap Rock Corporation -a producer of crushed stone — offered to buy the company. Trap Rock retained Spanberger as president of Cornell.
           
In 1960, the Cornell Steamboat Company built Rockland County, an innovative, push-type towboat—the first of its kind in permanent service on the Hudson River. With Rockland County, a new age of towing began on the Hudson, but there would be no future for Cornell. Trap Rock was soon acquired by a larger corporation, and the towing company was no longer needed.
           
In 1964, the Cornell Steamboat Company finally closed its doors, after making Hudson River maritime history for an unprecedented one hundred and thirty-seven years. 

Most boatmen are notoriously sentimental. A fine example of their feelings for an old veteran of the river was the last trip of the Cornell tugboat “Osceola."

The "Osceola" finished her travels and work on the Hudson River on a Sunday afternoon during the latter part of October 1929. At the time I happened to be down along the shore at Sleightsburgh.

On that Sunday afternoon of mid-autumn, the "Osceola" came down river with a large tow, the tugboat "George W. Pratt” helping her. When opposite the Rondout Lighthouse, the big tug "Edwin H. Mead” of the Cornell Steamboat Company came up river, running light, and took over the tow from the “Osceola." As soon as the towing cables were shifted to the "Mead, the “Mead” blew three very long whistles of farewell. The “Osceola" then turned and headed for Rondout Creek, answering the "Mead’s" salute with her own whistle.

Answering Whistles
The steamboat "Poughkeepsie" of the old Central Hudson Line at the time was coming out of the Rondout Creek on her run to New York. The "Poughkeepsie" also blew three long whistles which the "Oscy” answered.

Finally, the "Osceola’s” old running mate and helper for many years, the "George W. Pratt," blew three very long blasts on her whistle saying good-bye, knowing the “Osceola" was to sail the river no more.

As the “Osceola"’ was going between the dikes on either side of the creek, she answered the “Pratt’s" last salute. I can still see in my mind’s eye the white steam from her whistle as it trailed around her big black smokestack in the clear autumn air. It was the last time that old familiar whistle was to echo along the banks of the Hudson.

The "Osceola” tied up at the Cornell shops at Rondout and the fires in her boiler were let die. The "Oscy’s" hull was worn out, but her engine and boiler were still considered to be in good shape. The Cornell Steamboat Company had acquired a sound hull from another company and it was Cornell’s original intention to take the "Osceola’s'’ engine, boiler and deck houses from her original hull and install them in the newer one. During 1930, the work progressed to a point where the transfer of engine, boiler and upper works was almost completed. Then the Great Depression set in and the project was never finished.

Stranded on Beach
The "Osceola’s” original hull, as soon as the engine, boiler and topside gear were removed, was towed to Port Ewen where it was stranded in 1930 on the beach outside of where the Hidden Harbor Yacht Club is now located. The uncompleted newer hull, after work was stopped in the fall of 1930 or early 1931, was shifted to Sleightsburgh where it weathered away for almost 20 years. Finally, in the late 1940’s it, too, was towed to Port Ewen and sunk off the shore, almost right next to the "Oscy’s” first hull.

The "Osceola" was a big tug and very similar to the Cornell tugboat "Pocahontas." Both had been built during the same year, 1884, at the same shipyard at Newburgh.

Both were used in the same type of service and after World War I the two tugboats pretty much handled Cornell's business on the upper river. One would leave Albany one night, and the other the following night with Cornell’s daily tows for down river. The tows would meet the daily up tows from New York in the vicinity of Poughkeepsie where the meeting tugboats would exchange tows. As a result, the "Osceola" and "Pochahontas” [sic] in their latter years were to be seen almost always on the northern half of the Hudson — and their whistles heard on the foggy nights of spring and autumn. In the "Osceola’s” last trip to her home port of Rondout, Howard Palmatier was captain, Dan McDonald her pilot and Victor Matt chief engineer. 

The Hudson River was used as a road for hundreds of years for transport of people and goods before there were paved roads or railroads. The major form of transport on the river from the early 1600s to the early 19th century was the Hudson River sloop, an adaptation of a Dutch single-masted boat which was brought here by the Dutch settlers who were the dominant group among the early European settlers in the Hudson Valley. Everything and everybody traveled by Hudson River sloop, but they didn’t travel fast. In those pre-engine days, it could take a week to sail between New York and Albany. According to ads of the times, the sloops operated on a two-week schedule (one week down and one week back), to allow for the vagaries of the wind and the time it took to fill the boat at various landings and towns. For passengers in a hurry, or perishable freight, such a schedule could be a problem.
           
After 1807, with the advent of the steamboat, life for passengers on the Hudson in a hurry became much better. From a one week trip between New York and Albany, the time was reduced to slightly more than one day, and then became even faster as better and better steamboats and engines were built. However, freight continued to travel by slower sailing vessels because it was much cheaper to ship cargo that way. As more and more steamboats came onto the river and competition made shipping on these boats cheaper, perishable freight like fruit, vegetables and milk traveled by steamboat. Less perishable bulk cargoes traveled in barges pulled by steamboats especially built for towing. Even so, sailing vessels, sloops and schooners still carried bulky heavy cargoes like bluestone and cement until the end of the 19th century. The schooners included a steady traffic of coastal schooners from New England which would bring lumber to the Hudson Valley and return home with cargoes like coal, bricks, bluestone and cement. Ironically, though, the coastal schooners usually did not sail up the Hudson but were towed in convoys by steam towboats or tugs. The smaller Hudson River sloops and schooners, whose scale was more in keeping with the narrow reaches of the Hudson, could sail up the river.
           
By the mid-19th century the railroad began to come on the scene in the Hudson Valley to compete with boats. The railroad had the advantage of being able to run in the winter when the river was frozen and closed for boat traffic, so it steadily gained favor with shippers. However, the river retained a large amount of freight traffic because it was still a cheap way to ship things.

Towing was a big business on the Hudson River during most of the 19th century into the early 20th century. The towing steamers were first outmoded passenger steamers with cabins and extra decks removed. Then steamers especially made for towing were built, like the famous Norwich, the Oswego, the Austin and others which still resembled stripped down passenger steamboats with the usual side paddlewheels. However, around the time of the Civil War a new type of towboat with a screw propeller appeared on the scene. This was the tugboat which we are still familiar with today, a small but powerful vessel, whose attractive shape is easily recognizable and used in many work situations worldwide. Towboats and tugs pulled long strings of barges, often as many as forty, carrying many types of cargoes slowly up and down the Hudson day and night from the late 19th into the early 20th centuries. Usually a second helper tug was employed to take barges on and off the tow as it moved along, helping with the towing also as needed.
           
Often the individual barges had captains who lived in tiny houses onboard their boats, sometimes with their families accompanying them. It was not unusual to see laundry hung out on the backs of the barges or dogs and children playing on deck. Small children were usually tethered with some sort of rope to keep them from falling overboard. Small supply boats called bumboats came alongside the tows as they moved slowly along to sell groceries and other necessities to the barge families.
           
Rondout was the home of the Cornell Steamboat Company, which was the dominant towing company on the Hudson from the 1880s through the 1930s, with a fleet of up to 60 tugs and towboats of all sizes. Rondout was also the home of a number of boat builders who built hundreds of barges and canal boats over the years to carry many different types of cargoes on the Hudson and on the canals like the Delaware and Hudson which fed into the Hudson. Most of the towns along the Hudson had boat-building operations in the early days of the sloops, but by the late 19th century boatbuilding was concentrated in fewer places, like Newburgh and Rondout.
           
What were the cargoes carried on the Hudson River by boat? Farm products and wood dominated the trade from the 17th into the 19th centuries. Industrial products, particularly building products like cement, bluestone and bricks produced in the Hudson Valley in the 19th and early 20th centuries, were the major cargoes traveling on the river to New York City to build the city. Coal was also a major cargo, coming to the Hudson on the Delaware and Hudson Canal in the 19th century, and later by rail from eastern Pennsylvania. Ice cut in the Hudson and lakes along the river was also another major cargo from the mid-19th century into the 1920s transported in fleets of covered barges. Grain from the west was carried on the Hudson, and fruit produced in the mid and upper Hudson regions was transported in huge quantities by steamer through the 1930s.
           
In the 20th century, self-propelled freighters served to carry cargoes not handled by towboats and barges. Sometimes these were cargoes that traveled to or from distant ports, sometimes across the ocean or halfway around the world. Some cargoes that had previously come by coastal schooner, like lumber, now arrived by freighter. Liquid cargoes arrived by tanker including oil and molasses. Fuel oil is today the dominant cargo on the Hudson and it travels by barge and by tanker. The molasses which used to go to Albany by tanker was used as a component in cattle feed. Gypsum remains a cargo carried by freighter on the Hudson.
             
Of the old cargoes carried on the Hudson, few remain today. Only cement and crushed rock or traprock remain of the old building materials excavated and produced along the banks of the Hudson and carried by barge. Most cargo moving along the Hudson today goes by rail or road. Where water was once the cheapest way to ship along the Hudson, it is no longer necessarily true. The industries that shipped by water are gone for the most part. Also much of the bulk cargo that once traveled to Albany from all over the world like bananas or foreign cars now go elsewhere. Those colorful days are gone and are missed by those who remember them.

One night back in the late 1930’s, I was pilot on the tugboat “Cornell No. 41” of the Cornell Steamboat Company. We were the helper tug on a tow in charge of the tug “Lion” headed for Albany. As was the custom in those days, the helper tug would take off and add barges for local delivery as the tow slowly moved up or down the river.
           
When we were off Athens about 2 a.m., we went along the tow to take off two cement lighters to land them at Hudson. The cement lighters were alongside a big coastwise barge in the tow destined for Albany. My deckhand, the late William “Darby” Corbett of Port Ewen, had to climb up on the coastwise barge to cast off the lines of the cement lighters.
           
As “Darby” was about to let the lines go, I saw this big dog come sneaking up the deck in the shadow of one of her hatches. He looked as if he was about to pounce, I yelled over, “Watch out ‘Darb’, here comes a dog after you!” With that, “Darby” turned quickly, caught the dog with his foot and raised him over the barge’s low rail almost quicker than the eye could see. Overboard the dog went, between the barges, without a sound. I thought sure the dog was a goner. We saw nothing of him as we pulled away from the tow with the cement lighters.
           
The next morning as we lay on the other side of the tow, the captain of the coastwise barge came over and asked if we had seen anything of his dog. We didn’t have the heart to tell him what happened.
           
Later that morning, when we were up off New Baltimore, there, to my incredible surprise, was the dog running along the shore, following the tow. When we landed the coastwise barge in the old D&H slip just below Albany, he was waiting for us.
           
He sure was a tuckered out dog.
           
Fortunately, we were bucking an ebb tide during the last part of the tow, which slowed our rate of progress overground.
           
The dog must have swum to shore at Athens and followed the lights of the tow until daylight.
           
How he ever lived after going down between the barges, no one but the dog ever knew.

Way back in the 1890’s, the Cornell Steamboat Company had a big tugboat by the name of “John H. Cordts.” And at that time, the steamboats,  “New York” and “Albany” were the regular steamers of the Hudson River Day Line.
           
One summer afternoon, the “Cordts” came out of Rondout Creek to run light to Hudson and to relieve the “Norwich” of a large tow of canal boats. At the same time, the “New York” was leaving Rhinecliff on her way up river, crowded with passengers. The “Cordts” pulled slightly ahead of the “New York” and as the “New York” got up her speed, the “Cordts” dropped back and then hooked up so she lay off the port side aft of the “New York.” The suction from the “New York” dragged the “Cordts” right along with her all the way to Catskill, where the “New York” made a landing.

The “New York” and “Albany” were in that day and age very fast wide wheelers and ordinarily could outrun the “Cordts” like a rabbit would a turtle. However, when those side wheelers were in shallow water they would drag their stern down deep in the water and a bid suction wave would follow right along with them. Whatever lay off the after quarters on the Day Liners would go right along with them.

Disbelief from Distaffers
The “New York” and the “Albany” were advertised in the newspapers of the day as very speedy. Some ladies who were passengers on the “New York” that day wrote a letter to the Day Line saying they did not think the “New York” was so fast when a tugboat could stay right alongside her for so long a distance.

A. Van Santvoord, a president of the Day Line, wrote a letter to S.D. Coykendall, president of the Cornell Steamboat Company, requesting him to please ask his captains to stop trying to race with the Day Line steamers. Of course, Van Santvoord and Coykendall knew what the score was, but passengers on the “New York” wouldn’t understand about shoal water, suction, etc.

Coykendall called captain of the “Cordts”, Jim Monahan, on the carpet about the incident and told him not to do it again or he would be discharged. But the way it has been told to me, Jim Monahan was a very stubborn man. Sure enough, he tried it again and that was the last of Captain Monahan on the “John H. Cordts.”

After leaving Cornell, Captain Monahan was captain of the steam lighter “Uriah F. Washburn,” carrying cement and lime all along the Hudson River and Long Island Sound. After that, until his death, he was captain of the steamer “Newburgh” of the Central Hudson Line. All river men agreed he was always a very good captain or pilot tugboats, steamboats or whatever he happened to be on, the sleigh rides and dismissal notwithstanding. 

​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!​

Most steam and many diesel tugs were what were known as "bell boats".  This means that the Captain in the wheelhouse - in charge of steering -  had no direct control over the machinery in the engine room. The Captain communicated his orders to the Engineer - in charge of the speed -  by using a code of sounds run on two bells which the captain rang with controls in the wheelhouse. Many companies had their own distinct bell codes. In general, the "gong" called for a change in engine direction and the "jingle" called for a change in engine speed. The engine room was very noisy so the bells had to be loud to be heard.

​Simplified Bell Signals:
When the boat was stopped: 1 gong - work ahead; 2 gongs - go astern
When working ahead or backing: 1 gong - stop

"Artifact donor Thomas Gerber was born and raised in downtown Kingston on Meadow Street.  Tom’s interests were many but he was particularly interested in ships and tugs and spent a great deal of time, as a young boy, at the shipyards on the Rondout Creek.  He said it was always so exciting to see a ship finally launched into the creek, ready for duty, after months and months in the making.  His Uncle, Dan Murphy, who helped raise him, was an engineer on the tugs. Many summers, his Uncle Dan would take him along on the tug, the "James F Dwyer", and they would go up through the locks.  Tom loved going on this two week (sometimes more) journey as he learned so much and got to spend time with his Uncle.  Tom’s dad died when Tom was just 5 years old so his Uncle was more like his dad.  

​When they were going to scrap the "James F. Dwyer", Tom wanted something to remember the tug by and was able to salvage the communication system between the pilot house and the engineer room which includes the bell, the large bell, which looks similar to a gong, and the pulls.  He had them restored to their original luster by a great craftsman, William C. Washburn.  Tom wanted this piece of history to be seen by many so donated them to the Hudson River Maritime Museum."  Thank you for Melodey Daley for this history.
​
Because of the growth of New York City into a major port and population center as immigrants poured into the city in the 19th century, the need for food and building materials soared.  The Hudson Valley produced many of the products needed, and shipped them by sailing vessels called sloops and schooners for at least two hundred years from the beginning of settlement in the 1600s.  Steamboats came on the scene gradually after 1807 carrying mostly passengers for many decades. Eventually steam towboats pulling multiple barges and canal boats took over the freight traffic on the Hudson. Though not speedy, these long tows were the cheapest way to ship bulk cargoes. Older passenger steamboats such as the Norwich were used at first as towboats.  Sidewheel steamboats such as the Oswego were built as towboats starting around 1850.  Propeller driven tugboats in the familiar shape that we know today began to be seen in the 1860s.

​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!​

After the opening of the Erie Canal in 1825, the Hudson River-Erie Canal corridor immediately became one of the leading access routes to the mid-west. In addition to the movement of people, the transportation of freight and agricultural products in substantial quantities took places in both directions. It was a new and relatively easy method for the products of the west to reach the east coast of the relatively young country.
           
At first the early steamboats provided the principal means of transportation on the river for both people and freight. However, as the variety and quantity of the freight products increased, barges began to be used. At times they were lashed alongside of the steamboat or towed singly astern. This method obviously slowed the passage of the steamer and barges in tows behind a towing vessel became the general practice.
           
Early Albany entrepreneurs who recognized the monetary returns to be gained from towing were “Commodore” Alfred Van Santvoord, Samuel Schuyler with his Albany and Canal Towing Line, and Jerry Austin. All three used older side wheel steamboats that had lost their appeal to the traveling public but still possessed serviceable engines and boilers. These were converted to towing vessels by the removal of most of their superstructure and the installation of towing bitts and winches. The barge tows of the Albany trio traversed the entire length of the river and the competition was spirited.
           
It would appear that Alfred Van Santvoord was perhaps the most foresighted of the Albany towing operators. In any event, in 1848 he undertook the construction of a side-wheel steamboat designed solely for use as a towboat. She was named “Oswego” and was the first of seven such vessels to be built for the towing of large barge tows on the Hudson River. In 1849, Van Santvoord followed with “Cayuga”, Samuel Schuyler in 1852 followed with “America”, and in 1853 Jerry Austin added “Austin”. All were 200’ to 213’ in length. “Anna”, the smallest of the seven, was built in 1854 for Van Santvoord, and “Syracuse” in 1857, at 218’ the largest, for Austin. To complete the septet, the “Geo A. Hoyt” was built in 1873 for Thomas Cornell.
                       
​During the latter half of the 19th century, the steamboat operators traded vessels, somewhat like major league baseball teams trade players today. For example, in 1868 Van Santvoord traded the towboats “Oswego”, “Cayuga” and “New York” to Thomas Cornell for the passenger steamboat “Mary Powell”.

During the decade preceding the Van Santvoord-Cornell trade of vessels, Van Santvoord had become more and more involved in the operation of passenger steamboats. With the completion of the trade, Van Santvoord got out of the business of towing entirely and devoted his efforts solely to that of passenger steamers, which in time became the famous Hudson River Day Line. Thomas Cornell, whose towing operations had been centered on the lower river south of Rondout, gained access to the upper river and the operation of towing over the river’s entire length.
           
Thomas Cornell and his son-in-law, S.D. Coykendall were extremely aggressive competitors. By the last decade of the 19th century, their Cornell Steamboat Company had fashioned a virtual monopoly of towing on the Hudson River and their fleet of towing vessels was the largest in the nation.
           
Steamboats, like people, during their life time achieve minor claims to fame. “Oswego”, the first of the seven built, lasted the longest and out lived all of her successors. She made her last trip in September 1918, 70 years after her launching. “Syracuse”, the largest of the group, was generally considered by boatmen to be the best looking of all the towboats that saw service on the river. “America”, perhaps because of her name, was the subject of more paintings by the famed maritime artist James Bard than any other vessel.
           
The towboats were big and probably had generous accommodations for their crew. However, they were also cumbersome and in time were succeeded by the smaller, but more efficient and maneuverable screw-propelled tugboats. By the early years of the 20th century the towboats were history. They were, however, an important part of the maritime saga of the Hudson River and deserve to be remembered for the role they played in it. 

This article was originally published in the 2002 Pilot Log. Thank you to Hudson River Maritime Museum volunteer Adam Kaplan for transcribing the article.

Since the Hudson River was first navigated by steamboats in 1807, there have been hazards- natural and man-made- that have plagued the captains and pilots of these vessels. Fog, low water level, treacherous currents and ice have all taken their toll over the years, as have the occasional cases of inattention to duty, confusing or misunderstood whistle signals between steamers- not to mention fires, boiler explosions or mechanical failure of engine or steering gear.
 
Some of these accidents are well known, such as the loss of the steamer Thomas Cornell when she ran up Danskammer Point, north of Newburgh, in the fog on 27 March 1882 as she was making her regular trip from Rondout to New York.
 
Many years later, the Hudson River Day Line’s flagship Washington Irving was lost as a result of a collision just after she left her pier in New York on 1 June 1926. She was struck on the port side by an oil barge in tow of the tug Thomas E. Moran and sank after she was hurriedly run across the river to shallower water on the New Jersey side.
 
Most of the accidents or incidents have never had the dramatic impact of losses such as that of the Thomas Cornell or Washington Irving. Many of them didn’t result in the loss of the vessel. The Cornell tug G.W. Decker was an example. This small tug was for many years employed as a “helper” tug on Cornell’s tows- picking up or dropping off individual barges at intermediate points on the journey to or from New York. Many years ago, the many brickyards at Haverstraw sent their production to New York on barges, with the helper tug shuttling between the brickyard wharves and the tow. The depth of the river at Haverstraw Bay is not particularly deep, and the fact that the Decker’s bottom plates were eventually found to be very thin was ascribed- in part at least- to the cumulative action of Haverstraw Bay sand on her bottom. We shall never know for sure, but it is a reasonable theory.
 
The river’s depth is very shallow on the wide reaches of Haverstraw Bay outside of the main channel, and on the upper river where dredging had to be accomplished to allow ships to reach the port of Albany. In March 1910, long before the upper river was dredged, the very large and powerful steel-hulled Cornell tug named Cornell- accompanied by her helper Rob- was sent to Albany to break up an enormous ice jam in order that the river might be opened for traffic. It was found that her draft was so great that she grounded from time to time on the northbound trip, but she eventually accomplished her task with no small measure of hazard to Cornell and her crew. It was never attempted again.
 
Over most of the river’s course from New York to the start of the dredged channel north of Hudson the channel is of moderate depth, but in the Highlands- from Peekskill north to Cornwall- there is a lot of water, sometimes extending almost to the shoreline because of the mountainous nature of the area. At Anthony’s Nose, the depth reaches about 90 feet, and under the Bear Mountain Bridge we may find nearly 130 feet of depth.
 
In the region around West Point is where we may find the deepest point on the entire river. Between West Point and Constitution Island, in that part of the river called World’s End, a depth of 202 feet was recorded during one survey many years ago- and that is at mean low water during the lowest river stages.
 
A small steamboat- or “steam yacht” in river parlance- named Carrie A. Ward, built in New Baltimore in 1878, maintained a local service between Newburgh and Peekskill during the 1880s. In late July of 1882, she sank near Cold Spring and was raised. On Saturday, 29 July, she sank for a second time for reasons thus far unknown, again in the vicinity of Cold Spring. By Tuesday, 1 August, she had not been located. The Newburgh Daily Journal reported on that day under the headline “Is She Gone For Good?”:
 
“It is said that the river bed consists of rocks in the locality where she went down, and that the water is of varying depth. It may be fifty [feet] deep in one spot, and nearly twice that a few yards off. Some boatmen have doubts if the Carrie will ever be found. They say she may have settled into a hollow between some of the rocks and her presence may never be discovered.”
 
The situation was not quite as dire as the boatmen predicted. By the next day, she had been located in 60 feet of water. The Journal remarked, “Arrangements are under way to have the yacht raised again.” The Baxter Wrecking Company brought in their divers and equipment on 5 August, and in a short time, the Carrie A. Ward had been raised, repaired and back in service.
 
The Hudson hasn’t always been that kind to its vessels. There have been scores of sail and steamboats, barges and other craft that have sunk in the river never to be raised. We shall unfortunately never know the tales told by their crews.
 

​Towing on the Hudson River undoubtedly began in earnest with the earliest steamboats once the Erie Canal began at the time of its grand opening on 26 October 1825.1 After that date, canal boats loaded with eastbound grain cargoes needed a way to deliver their cargoes to New York City. Nearly all of the towboats of that age were primarily side-wheel steamers which normally carried passengers.
 
Little is known of how the concept of the dedicated towboat developed. As the traffic on the Canal increased, it was undoubtedly found that there was more traffic than could be handled by the passenger boats. It is surmised that this occurred sometime during the mid-to-late 1830s. It should be noted that the marine propeller did not exist at this time, so that all of this earliest towing was carried out by side-wheel steamboats.
 
The side-wheel steamboats- whether engaged in towing or otherwise employed- were propelled by engines of two designs. One was the walking-beam engine, in which the connecting rod from a vertically-mounted cylinder was attached to one end of a diamond shaped cast iron beam. From the other end of the beam, a rod led to a crank in the transverse shaft that led to the paddle wheels. In this way, the paddle wheels turned as a result of the up-and-down movement of the engine’s piston.
 
The other type of engine used on the side-wheelers was the crosshead engine, similarly configured to the beam engine except that instead of the walking beam, a crosshead moved vertically in guides at each side. The connecting rod movement from the cylinder caused the crosshead to move vertically and a second connecting rod rotated the crank on the transverse shaft in the same manner as that of the beam engine. The crosshead engine, common in the early days of the steamboat, virtually disappeared from production during the late 1850s.
 
Most of the side-wheel towboats in use on the river were former passenger steamers which had been converted to towboats, mainly by the removal of the passenger quarters. During the entire history of the side-wheel steamboat, there were only seven such vessels built for towing purposes between 1848 and 1873. These vessels were Oswego (1848; Cayuga (1849); America (1852); Austin (1853); Anna (1854); Syracuse (1857) and George A. Hoyt (1873). All were built for well-known towboat operators- A. Van Santvoord, Samuel Schuyler, Jerry Austin and Thomas Cornell. The last named vessel was somewhat of an anachronism, built at the beginning of the propeller era.

​The last side-wheel towboat in operation on the Hudson was Norwich, built in 1936 beginning in 1848, she was a member of the fleet of Thomas Cornell (and later the Cornell Steamboat Company).  A star performer in the 1909 Hudson-Fulton Celebration, she last operated commercially in 1917 and was dismantled in 1923. She was also the last vessel afloat powered by a crosshead engine.
 
Small propeller tugs appear to have made their first appearance on the river at about the time of the Civil War. One of these pioneering craft, Wm. S. Earl, was around the river until the later 1940s. She had been built at Philadelphia for Albany owners in 1859. The appearance of these vessels at Albany was to provide a fleet of tugs was for two principal reasons: (1)to handle the towing of barges locally, and (2)to make up the increasingly more frequent and larger New York tows composed primarily of grain traffic through the Erie Canal.
 
During the post-war period and beyond, the burgeoning City of New York required increasingly large amounts of materials to construct the buildings that made up the city. In those days, the principal materials of construction were bricks and mortar, both of which were manufactured along the river. A multitude of brickyards on the upper and lower portions of the river provided nearly all of the brick required for this undertaking, being carried to New York on 100-foot long wooden barges, nearly all of which were built in shipyards along the river.
 
Another commodity that was significant in the pre-refrigerator days was ice, and before the era of manufactured ice, the Hudson River provided a very large percentage of New York’s ice needs for many years. Ice was harvested from the river during the river and stored in riverside ice houses. The ice was shipped to New York by barge, to be used during the warmer part of the year. As a result, ice became an important factor- alongside of brick- for many years in the river’s towing industry.
 
There was still another commodity which required transportation to New York from the middle region of the river. This was coal- the only fuel available during the 19th century. Anthracite coal was brought from the Pennsylvania fields by the Delaware & Hudson Canal to Rondout Creek, where the Island Dock (especially built by the canal company for the purpose) became the entrepôt between canal boats and river barges or sailing vessels. Similarly, rail terminals at Newburgh and Cornwall provided the means for transfer of Pennsylvania coal to barges and seagoing vessels.
 
From the 1870s onwards, the size of the propeller tugboat- and its power- increased continuously, and this was not lost on the Hudson River operators. Most, if not all, of the
operators utilized side-wheelers, but only a single owner was able to foresee the day in which this type of motive power would be obsolete- and eventually non-existent. This was Thomas Cornell, an owner who had come to the river in the late 1830s operating passenger steamers. His towing business grew continually, and by 1872, he had taken delivery of two propeller tugs of then large size- Thomas Dickson and Coe F. Young, each powered by a single cylinder condensing engine of about 240 horsepower. This, it turned out, was a major step towards the future.

​​

During the 1880s, Cornell expanded his propeller fleet with a modest fleet, primarily built in Philadelphia, the largest being J.C. Hartt, which boasted a 750-horsepower compound
engine. Still more technical accomplishments followed, beginning with the iron-hulled Geo. W. Washburn, built at the T.S. Marvel yard in Newburgh in 1890 (with a near sister, Edwin H. Mead, following two years later). Perhaps the only wrong decision of the era was Cornell’s construction of a then-enormous vessel, a 1400-horsepower behemoth named Cornell, at a Staten Island shipyard in 1902. She proved to have a draft too deep for service on the upper river and was sold to a New Orleans operator who kept her in service until the end of World War II.
 
A handful of other operators built and operated modern vessels during this period, but they were no match for the Cornell fleet and their business method. Many abandoned their river operations, some selling their vessels to the Cornell organization, at this time headed by Samuel D. Coykendall, a son-in-law of Thomas Cornell. Some of the long-time workhorses of the Cornell fleet came from these absorbed businesses, such as Ronan’s Osceola and Pocahantas, built in 1883 at Newburgh and still in the Cornell fleet in the early 1930s. Another operator who failed in his tilt with Cornell was C.W. Morse, whose Knickerbocker Ice Company gave up river towing under the fierce Cornell attack.
 
It was during this period of increasing barge traffic that the latter day concept of the river tow came into being. The main towing- either side-wheel or propeller driven- was in charge of the tow. As the New York-Albany tow progressed up or down the river, it was necessary to drop off or pick up barges at intermediate points along the route, such as at the brickyards, stone quarries or other industries that required barges. It was inconvenient, and in most cases, impossible for the towing steamer to accomplish this task, and in this way the concept of the “helper” tug came into being. This small tugboat would shift individual barges from the main tow to a shoreside destination without affecting the movement of the main tow. Similarly, barges were moved to the tow in the same way. In between these shuttle trips, the helper tug would provide its power to assist in moving the main tow, and under certain circumstances, such as rounding the potentially dangerous course change needed when rounding West Point, she would help in altering the course of the flotilla of barges.
 
The sheer size of these tows during the peak period of barge towing on the river was astonishing. Some of the larger tows were made up of as many as 125 barges. Assuming that the average length and beam of individual barges was 100 feet by 25 feet, the area of the entire flotilla might amount to as much as seven acres!
 
The diesel tug made its initial appearance on the Hudson shortly after the end of World War One. The Cornell Steamboat Company purchased two 100-foot tugs that had been
cancelled members of the Shipping Board’s 100-vessel harbor tug fleet. These two- Jumbo and Lion- acquired in 1924 and 1925 respectively, were propelled by 600-horsepower Nelseco engines. These two line-haul tugs were joined during this period by four “helper” tugs- Cornell, Cornell No. 20, Cornell No. 21, and Cornell No. 41- all of which were converted steam tugs.
 
One operational breakthrough in the Cornell company’s latter days was the construction and operation of the diesel-powered Rockland County, a pusher tug in the style of the western river-based towing fleets. Rockland County was built in 1960 by Dravo Corporation at its Wilmington, Delaware yard, and was used primarily to move crushed stone-laden barges (another longtime important cargo on the river) of the New York Trap Rock Company from its quarries on the lower river.
 
The latest towboats seen on the river are powerful pusher tugs which move the oil barges to the upper river. These tugs, owned by K-Sea, Moran, McAllister and others, are typically of around 4000 or more horsepower, with elevated pilot houses to provide adequate
visibility when moving an empty barge. Although these tugs are of a type that could never be imagined in the days of the side-wheel towboat, they are also a remarkable development that might have been unforeseen twenty-five years ago.
 
Today, towing on the Hudson is but a shadow of its former self. Cornell went in the 1980s, when it sold out to New York Trap Rock (although the Cornell shop buildings are still standing in Rondout Creek). Ice, coal and brick disappeared as cargoes many years ago. Still with us are petroleum, crushed stone and cement, and a small quantity of container cargo is brought from New York’s container terminals to the Albany area by barge. One must remember, however, that Hudson River towboats and barges were of great importance in the development of the City of New York and the lower Hudson River virtually from the beginning of the powered vessel.
 
Endnotes:
1. Adams, Samuel Hopkins, “The Erie Canal”, published in New York in 1953 by Random House, Inc.