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 on September 10, 1972.

​The largest steamboat ever built for service on the Hudson River was the “Berkshire” of the Hudson River Night Line, built to run in overnight passenger and freight service between Albany and New York. Because of her imposing size, most boatmen referred to her as the “Mighty Berkshire” rather than by her mountainous name alone. 

The “Berkshire” was some 440 feet long overall, making her 13 feet longer than her one time running mate, the “C.W. Morse,” and nearly 26 feet longer than the “Washington Irving.” the largest steamer of the Hudson River Day Line. The late Francis “Dick” Chapman of New Baltimore, her last captain, was later a pilot with me on the the Cornell tugboat “Lion” and related to me a number of incidents about the big Night Liner. 

One night back in July 1935, the “Berkshire” was preceding down river on her regular run from Albany to New York. As they were passing Saugerties at about 11 p.m. the steam steering gear broke. The men in the pilot house immediately shifted to the big hand steering wheels. 

How Wheels Worked
The steam gear had a small pilot wheel at the front of the pilot house which the pilot could turn with ease with one hand. This small pilot wheel was in turn connected to an auxiliary steam engine which actually turned the rudder. The hand steering wheels, on the other hand, were huge affairs located in the middle of the pilot house to be used in times of emergency. They were connected directly the the rudder and when in use were turned by brute strength. 

The engineers, unfortunately were unable to make repairs to the steam steering gear, the usual means of steering the steamer, and the pilots took her all the rest of the way to New York steering her by the hand gears. It took four men to constantly man the two big hand steering wheels and, except on straight courses, they had to run dead slow in order to get the rudder over. 

The sharp turns in the river at Magazine Point, West Point and Anthony's Nose were particularly troublesome. In order to make the sharp turns, the “Berkshire” had to be backed a couple of times to get the rudder over so the turns could be made. When she finally got to New York they had to get tugboats to put the “Berkshire” in her slip. There the repairs were made to the steam steering gear and she was able to leave on her regular up trip as usual. 

The “Berkshire” also had a close call on her very last trip down river from Albany. The year 1937 was the “Berkshire’s” last season in service and her final sailing from Albany for New York was made on the night of Labor Day.

Hazy Weather
All the way down the river the weather was hazy. When the “Berkshire” was off Esopus Island, fog set in thick. At Crum Elbow they could hear a bell being run [sic] rapidly at minute intervals, meaning something was anchored ahead. On the “Berkshire” they were running slow on time courses and sounding her whistle. 

Suddenly, through the fog, the pilot house crew of the “Berkshire” dimly saw two white lights high in the air dead ahead, which they realized was a large anchored ship.

They passed the ship so close the guards of the “Berkshire” rubbed along the ship's side. Since it was ebb tide and because of his position, Captain Chapman was afraid to back down because he thought his steamer might back across the bow of the anchored ship. So what could have been a terrible accident, turned out all right for the mighty “Berkshire” on her last trip down the Hudson under her own power. 

The “Berkshire’s” career on the Hudson River from the time she entered service in 1913 until her final season of 1937, in general, was a placid one and relatively uneventful. Her beginning and ending, however, were a little unusual.  

Launched in 1907
The huge steamboat was launched on September 21, 1907 from the yard of the New York Shipbuilding Co. at Camden, N.J. with the name “Princeton” painted on her bows. Launched  in the midst of the panic of 1907, funds apparently were not available for her completion. With engine and boilers installed but with no superstructure, the uncompleted vessel was layed up and not completed until six years later. When finally completed, her launching name of ‘‘Princeton” had been changed to “Berkshire.” 

The “Berkshire” arrived at Albany on her first trip on the morning of May 23, 1913. The very next day, the “Washington Irving,” the new flagship of the Hudson River Day Line, arrived at Albany on her inaugural trip. Thus by a turn of fate, the largest night boat ever built for service on the Hudson River and the largest day boat ever built for service on the Hudson both made their first trips to Albany within hours of each other. It was a big weekend for big steamboats at Albany.  ​

After the ‘‘Berkshire’s” final trip in 1937, she was layed up at Athens. With the coming of World War II, the big steamer was acquired by the federal government and at the end of January 1941 was towed by the Coast Guard through the ice to New York harbor. 

The ferry crossing between Newburgh, NY and Beacon, NY was one of the longest running on the Hudson River. Three ferries served the crossing in later years, the "Orange," the "Beacon," and the "Dutchess." The Newburgh-Beacon Bridge would not be built until 1963, so the ferries were the only way passengers and automobilists could cross the river between the two cities. Two of the ferries would be in service, one for each city and passing each other in the middle, with a third ferry kept in reserve. The ferries would rotate duties. 

After the success of the construction of the Bear Mountain Bridge in 1924, the state pursued the construction of other Hudson River bridges, including between Newburgh and Beacon. In anticipation of the bridge construction, the New York Bridge Authority purchased the ferry company in 1956 and operated the ferry service under the Bridge Authority name until the bridge was complete. The original two-lane span of the Newburgh-Beacon Bridge opened to the public on November 2, 1963. At the end of the day on November 3, 1963, the ferries were removed from service - the last Hudson River commuter ferries in operation north of New York City were now gone.

For this Media Monday, we revisit some of the stories and sounds from the Newburgh-Beacon Ferry, recorded by the Sound and Story Project. 

​From horse powered ferries to steam boats, the Newburgh-Beacon Ferry is believed to be one of the oldest running ferries in the United States dating back to 1743. John Fasulo gives an overview of the the ferry's 250 year old history beginning with the ferrying of settlers by the Indians.

On November 3, 1963 the Newburgh-Beacon bridge opened and the ferry made its last Hudson River crossing. Mary McTamaney recalls her final trip on the historic ferry.

​On September 3, 1963 Conrad recorded the Hudson River Day Line Alexander Hamilton and the Newburgh Beacon Ferry as they passed each other and exchanged salutes. This was the last trip of the season for the Alexander Hamilton and the Newburgh Beacon ferry would soon cease to run.

In 2005, the Newburgh-Beacon ferry was revived, and now serves passenger commuter traffic between Newburgh, NY and the Metro North train station in Beacon, NY. 

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 assassination of Abraham Lincoln on April 15, 1865 shocked the nation. Six days after his death, an ornate, nine-car funeral train left Washington, D.C. for Lincoln’s home in Springfield, Illinois. The train carried Lincoln’s body as well as the remains of his son William Wallace Lincoln, also known as Willie, who had died of typhoid in 1862 at the age of 11. Pulled by a steam locomotive carrying Lincoln’s framed portrait and a wreath on the front, the nine cars were draped in black bunting and included a car for the hearse and horses, the President’s car, which was retrofitted as a hearse for the two caskets, as well as accommodations for family, an honor guard consisting of Union generals and other military brass, and funeral procession personnel, including an embalmer, who had the somewhat gruesome task of re-embalming Lincoln’s body between stops. Mary Todd Lincoln, distraught by her husband’s violent death, did not accompany the train home.

Traveling an extensive route designed to pass through most major cities in the Northeast, the train arrived in New York City on April 24, 1865. Lincoln’s casket was removed from the train and processed through the city for the thousands of mourners who gathered to see his body. 

​After the procession, the train departed New York City at 4:15 PM on April 25 and traveled through the evening and overnight, reaching Albany at 1:55 AM on April 26. Traveling up the east shore of the Hudson River, the train passed through many stations, watched by mournful New Yorkers as it made its way to Illinois.
​
Perhaps because the train’s journey through the Hudson Valley took place largely at night, in the years after experienced railroad men began to report strange sightings. In the days before automation, trackmen and line workers often worked at night, caring for the rails, operating switches, and manning signal and water stations.

On September 13, 1879, the Rockland County Journal published "A Railroad Ghost Story," reprinted from the Fishkill Standard, which is excerpted below in its entirety. 

A RAILROAD GHOST STORY.
"An exchange tells the following tale. — We do not remember having seen it before. It was related among a number of other railroad stories. The writer says: "Then was narrated a weird story about an apparition of a train on the Hudson River Railroad. It was told with an effort at sincerity that did not deceive the listener, but I am told that there are many trackmen and laborers along the line of the Hudson River Railroad who pretend to have seen the spectacle. The tale was about a mystic counterpart of the funeral train that bore Abraham Lincoln's remains from New York City to the West. The actual and substantial train passed over the road on a certain day in April, 1865. The car that contained the President's remains was heavily draped, I believe. It is said that on that night, every year, all the train men that are on the road at a certain hour (that varies in various subdivisions of the road), hear and see and feel the spectre train rush by them. It sounds hollow and awful. Its lights are yellow, pale and funeral. Its train hands and passengers are sepulchral figures. It looks like the outline of a train, yet every detail is perfect. Those who have seen it say, though they felt that it was only a vision, that a man could walk through it if he dared, or throw a stone through it; yet it seems perfect in everything but substantialness. It even carries with it a whirl of wind as fast as trains do, but it is a cold, clammy, grave-like atmosphere, all its own. As it passes another train the shriek of its whistle and clang of its bell strike terror to the hearts of those that hear them." 

​Have you ever seen Lincoln's ghost train? If you haven't you'll have to wait until April 25th of next year to see if you can catch a glimpse. Happy Halloween!

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

The steamboat “Water Witch,” although not originally built for Hudson River traffic, was the storm center of an attempt by private citizens to break a monopoly on Hudson River travel- an attempt which failed only when the citizens were “sold out” by the owners of the steamboat. Thereby “hangs a tale” which was one of the colorful events of early steamboating on the river.

Brown and Bell built the wooden hull of the “Water Witch” at New York in 1831, and her engine was the product of J.P. Allaire, also of New York. Her hull was 138 feet long, breadth of beam 22 feet and over her guards 40 feet. depth of hold 7 feet 10 inches. Her engine was of the cross-head type.

The New York and New London route was the original path of service for the new “Water Witch,” running between these two cities as a day boat. She left New York on her first trip on Saturday, July 30, 1831, with Captain Charles Davison in command; and the fare to New London was $2.50 with meals extra. During her term of service on this route, the “Water Witch” is credited with making the passage of 120 miles in 8 hours and 50 minutes- considered very good time for such a distance for a steamboat of that period.

An advertisement appearing in the New York newspapers on August 12, 1831, heralds the event of the appearance of the “Water Witch” on the Hudson river. This announcement contained the information that “the new and splendid steamboat “Water Witch,” Captain Charles Davison, will leave the foot of Warren street, New York, for Sing Sing and Peekskill daily at 7 o’clock a.m., touching at all intermediate landings; returning the same day, leaving Peekskill at 1 o’clock p.m. This boat is put on this route for the season, and no pains will be spared to render every accommodation to the traveling community.”

​But there was a great deal more behind this advertisement than appeared on the surface. In the summer of 1831 a number of citizens of Putnam and Westchester counties, having for years been force to pay an exorbitant rate of fare between Sing Sing, Peekskill, and intermediate landings to the Vanderbilt Line which was at the time operating the steamboat “General Jackson,” among others, formed themselves into a stock company for the purpose of operating an independent line. Looking around for a suitable vessel to meet their requirements, they found the “Water Witch,” recently completed for the New London Line.

James Smith, Daniel Drew, and another, were called upon to manage the affairs of the new company, and thus in the summer of 1831 the “Water Witch” entered service on the Hudson river, operating until late fall in one of the most spirited “oppositions” that was ever staged on the Hudson river.

In meeting this competition, the Vanderbilt Line cut fares until the “Water Witch” was carrying passengers for 12 1/2 cents. The people of the lower river towns rallied to the support of the new line and the “Water Witch” often carried from three to five hundred passengers while the Vanderbilt Line steamboat was carrying only 20 fares. This state of affairs continued until the close of the season and gave the stockholders of the new line plenty of confidence to continue their venture.

In the spring of 1832 the “Water Witch” was again in the service of the independent group, running until May 1 and carrying almost all of the passengers. Then came the blow to the “independents”- for without any notice or the knowledge of the stockholders, the “Water Witch” was withdrawn from service! An investigation brought out the fact that Commodore Vanderbilt of the Vanderbilt Line had “arranged” with Managers Smith and Drew, to halt the activity of the “Water Witch,” and since the stockholders had invested full power of operation in the hands of Smith and Drew, there was nothing that could be done. Law suits naturally followed this “treason” on the part of the managers, but soon the “independent stock” was selling for little or nothing to friends of the Vanderbilt interests - and Daniel Drew became the manager of there Vanderbilt Line!

In the fall of 1832 the “Water Witch” was placed on the auction block and finally went to the Hartford Line, and Daniel Drew and Commodore Vanderbilt proceeded to “make things lively” on the Hudson river for some years. Later the “Water Witch” returned to the Hudson river, and then was last heard from in service between New York and Elizabeth, N.J. [words cut off] 1849.

If you or someone you knew grew up in the 1990s, they probably have fond memories of the PBS children's television series "Wishbone." Although relatively short-lived, the popular weekly series featured a precocious Jack Russell terrier named Wishbone who daydreamed about himself starring in tales from classic literature, interspersed with a storyline set in modern day featuring his boy Joe and his human friends and family.

We shared a version of the Legend of Sleepy Hollow featuring adults last week, but for this week's Media Monday, we thought kids of all ages might enjoy this episode of Wishbone, who stars as Ichabod Crane. 

​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!​

Today's featured artifact is this little metal figurine of Fala, the beloved Scottie dog of Franklin Delano Roosevelt. A recent acquisition, it was likely sold on one of the Hudson River Day Line steamboats as a souvenir of the Hudson Valley. 

Fala was perhaps the most famous White House pet. Born in 1940, he was a constant companion of President Roosevelt, residing in the White House and often accompanying the president on his travels. By some accounts, Fala made the news more than FDR's family! He became a much-beloved mascot for the nation during a trying time in American history - World War II. It is this fame that likely resulted in the souvenir figurine that now resides in our collection.

During the Election of 1944, the Republic opposition started a rumor that Fala had been left on the Aleutian Islands after a recent visit by the president, and that he had sent a Naval destroyer to retrieve Fala at great cost to taxpayers. Launching his presidential campaign at a dinner with the International Teamsters Union, Roosevelt addressed the charges in a famous speech. You can watch the Fala-related portions of the speech below.

The humor with which the president addressed the charges (which were false) may have helped get him reelected to a third term.

Sadly, Fala outlived his master. President Roosevelt died in April of 1945. Fala went to live with Eleanor Roosevelt at Val-Kill. In her autobiography, Eleanor wrote of Fala's reaction to the president's death:

"It was Fala, my husband's little dog, who never really readjusted. Once, in 1945, when General Eisenhower came to lay a wreath on Franklin's grave, the gates of the regular driveway were opened and his automobile approached the house accompanied by the wailing of the sirens of a police escort. When Fala heard the sirens, his legs straightened out, his ears pricked up and I knew that he expected to see his master coming down the drive as he had come so many times. Later, when we were living in the cottage, Fala always lay near the dining-room door where he could watch both entrances just as he did when his master was there. Franklin would often decide suddenly to go somewhere and Fala had to watch both entrances in order to be ready to spring up and join the party on short notice. Fala accepted me after my husband's death, but I was just someone to put up with until the master should return."

Fala died in April of 1952, just shy of his twelfth birthday. He is buried near the Roosevelt grave at Springwood in Hyde Park. He is the only Presidential pet to be memorialized with his master, as pictured below at the Franklin Delano Roosevelt Memorial in Washington, D.C.

To learn more about Fala, check out his official biography at the Franklin D. Roosevelt Library and Museum.

​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!​

Last month we briefly covered the Great Grain Races on which the Northeastern Grain Race competition is based. While those were informal races, with little at stake for the vessels aside from pride of place for a fast passage, this was not the case of their predecessor, the Tea Races from Fuzhou, China to London in the 19th century.  
The Tea Races were quite a bit more competitive than the Grain Races, as they were set up more like a usual race: Everyone left the same port, headed for the same destination, and a bonus awaited the first cargo of tea to hit the docks in London. While there was some choice of route from China to England, this was up to the captains, and part of the skill involved.

The neat thing about the Tea Races is they were not just a test of the ship's efficiency and the skill of captain and crew. It was just as much a test of the entire logistical system from purchasing tea from farms, arranging for the right tugboats, and skilled, fast stevedores who could pack a ship well, maintaining the vessel's trim and sailing ability while also avoiding damage to the goods. While the harvest was available to everyone at about the same time, shaving even a few hours off the time to get everything set to sail could mean leaving on a more favorable tide and wind. A day or more could mean a significant head start on the competition.

Once out of port, the race was really on, and sailing skill was in the fore. The fastest ship which could get around the Cape of Good Hope could expect a significant reward in London. The balance of routes between reliable winds and shortest distance was a gamble, and there were differing approaches to this, but the average distance was some 14,000 miles, and took about 100 days on average. 

The margin of victory in some of these Tea Races was very tight: In 1866, the margin between Taeping and Ariel was less than a half hour, with three ships docking within 2 hours after 99 days at sea.

The rise of steam propulsion and the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869 sealed the fate of the tea clippers and the tea races. Larger ships with passengers and tea were able to make the journey through the canal in around half the time it took a clipper to sail an additional 3-4,000 nautical miles around the bottom of Africa, and as coal-fired steam engines became more efficient the cost competitiveness of sail freight declined on the Tea Trade.

There are a few lessons to be learned about alternative transport in the modern world from the Tea Races. Most prominently, the lesson is that as fuel prices rise, sail freight (and other alternative means of transportation) becomes more competitive, but only if it can use the same routes as conventional transportation. During the period of the Grain Races, before the Suez Canal opened, the inefficiency of steam engines meant that Colliers, ships carrying coal for fuel, were normally sailing vessels. This was because there wouldn't be much coal left in a steam ship if you wanted to land a cargo, and have enough fuel to return to Europe. With the opening of the Suez Canal and rising fuel efficiency, the reduction in distance made for a major savings in fuel for steamers, making them more than competitive against Sailing vessels. The same could happen with current movements toward sustainable transportation systems, and should be kept in mind for things like bicycle and rail infrastructure.  

You can read more about the Great Tea Race of 1866 Here.
​
You can find more information on the Grain Race here.

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.”

"From the listless repose of the place, and the peculiar character of its inhabitants, who are descendants from the original Dutch settlers, this sequestered glen has long been known by name of Sleepy Hollow ... A drowsy, dreamy influence seems to hang over the land, and to pervade the very atmosphere."

— Washington Irving, "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow"

​Since spooky season is upon us, this Media Monday we're sharing "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow," part of Shelley Duvall's Tall Tales & Legends TV series, and which originally aired on September 25, 1985.

Featuring an all-star cast, this version keeps pretty closely to the original Washington Irving tale. Ed Begley Jr. stars as timid schoolteacher Ichabod Crane faces a headless horseman one dark Halloween night. Beverly D'Angelo stars as as Katrina Von Tassel, Charles Durning as Uncle Duffue/the Narrator, Tim Thomerson as Brom Bones, Barret Oliver as Heinrich Von Tassel, Diana Bellamy as Mrs. Von Tassel.

If you'd like to read the original in full, Project Gutenberg has a fully digitized version available for download or to read online. 

And if you'd like to learn about OTHER spooky Hudson River Valley stories, take one of our Lantern Tours aboard Solaris! These spooky narrated tours feature stories based on real, historical events. 

​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.

The steamboat “Sleepy Hollow” was built for an enterprise which was first thought of in the year 1865, was put in operation the following year, and continued until July, 1867, when the instigators were finally convinced that their brain child was a bit unprofitable.

In 1865 a lower Hudson steamboat company was organized by residents living in the river valley between New York and Sing Sing, and in October of that year contracts were let for the construction of two side-wheel steamboats to serve the landings on the east side of the river above Yonkers and as far north as Sing Sing. The names of the two steamboats were the “Sleepy Hollow” and the “Sunnyside.”

The wooden hull of the “Sleepy Hollow” was built by Lawrence & Foulks at Greenpoint, New York, in 1864, and in the spring of that year the new steamboat company began operations- making landings at Yonkers, Irvington, and Tarrytown, with one of the vessels, and covering the same route but extending to Grassy Point, with the other craft.

The “Sleepy Hollow” was 248 feet long, breadth of beam 35 feet; depth of hold 9 feet. Her gross tonnage was 745, net tonnage, 647, and she was powered with a vertical beam engine with cylinder diameter of 56 inches with a 12 foot stroke, built by T.F. Secor & Company of New York.

The new enterprise was launched in opposition to the Nyack Line, running for less than two years. In July, 1867, the “Sunnyside” was taken off the route and placed in service between New York, Newburgh and West Point. The “Sleep Hollow” continued on the original run for the balance of the season, and when the river season closed in the fall, the new line ceased operations.

​The two vessels are then taken to Highland and laid up, and in July, 1870, Joseph Cornell and Captain Black of Catskill purchased the “Sunnyside” at auction for $45,000 and placed her in service on the Coxsackie route. Two years later the “Sunnyside was put on the route between Troy and New York, where she ended her days in 1875.

In 1870 Fish and Gould made arrangements with the New Jersey Southern Railroad Company for the transfer of the railroad’s freight and passengers from Sandy Hook to New York. The “Sleepy Hollow,” under the name of the “Long Branch,” was then placed in service on this route, running in line with the steamboats “Plymouth Rock,” “Metropolis” and “Jesse Hoyt” for a bit over three ‘years. Mr. Fisk, one of the owners of this line, died and the line was abandoned, and the “Long Branch” was used as an excursion vessel around New York Harbor. During the season of 1877-1878, the former steamboat “Sleepy Hollow” ran in excursion service between New York and Iona Island on the Hudson river, and until the year 1892 the “Long Branch” was a familiar sight on the various river excursion trips.

​In 1892, the “Long Branch was sold to J.H. Gregory, who broke her up at Perth Amboy, New Jersey.

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