More of Procter's Gunboats and one "Bull of The Woods": Schooner Days CX. (110)

Victor Lauriston, Canadian man of letters, author of "The Twenty-first Burr," and an authority on the history of the War of 1812, has an article in the Chatham News which confirms the humble opinion expressed in "Schooner Days" two weeks ago.

This was that the hull bedded in sand in the Thames in Chatham was NOT one of Procter's gun boats sunk in 1813. This, by the way, is the correct spelling of the British Major-General's name, not P-r-o-c-t-o-r. He was court-martialled and lost six months' pay over the Battle of the Thames where Tecumseth lost his life and won fame imperishable.

Mr. Lauriston's courtesy in aiding The Telegram's investigation in Chatham earlier this month is noteworthy, and his article is reprinted below, with grateful acknowledgements to him and to the Chatham News. This writer would be inclined to identify the wreck recently investigated as that of the Dreadnaught or of the sailing yacht of which Mr. Lauriston writes. The Bull of the Woods mentioned recalls the references to the sailing scows in last week's number of "Schooner Days." Both the City of Chatham and the J. W. Steinhoff of which Mr. Lauriston speaks, were steamers well known to Torontonians and plied from this city thirty or forty years ago.

CAPT. H. E. CROW is probably the best-posted man in regard to the history—and the peculiar problems— of navigation on the Thames. He began sailing the river in 1876, 57 years ago, on the sailing schooner "Elsie Larned." He got his papers for sailing craft in 1878 and as master on steam craft on Inland waters in 1884. From that year till 1900 he sailed the steamboat "Owen," and after selling the "Owen," he operated the "H. E. Crow" steam-tug till his retirement quite recently.

Such an experience, covering more than half a century of active sailing, qualifies a man to speak with some authority on the Thames and its history. Capt. Crow knows every twist and turn of the river's crooked and winding course, every one of its numerous shallows and sandbars. And he knows the location and history of every one of the numerous hulks whose bones, embedded in the sand and mud of the river bottom, are occasionally visible at low water.

Capt. Crow is less certain than is R. O. Springer as to the exact identity the hulk discovered recently at the rear of the J. B. Kerr property, on King street west. It may be one of two craft sunk in that vicinity.

There are, in fact, some four hulks along that stretch of river between St. Joseph's Hospital and the Third street bridge. One of these was the "Morning Light," a sailing craft owned by Captain Tyler. Her owner tied her up one winter in the river below Piggott's mill. In the spring the river ice tore a huge hole in the vessel and she sank. Her owner decided it wasn't worth while to raise the damaged craft, and she was abandoned.

The other vessel in that vicinity was a sailing yacht belonging to Capt. George Stringer, father of Nelson Stringer. After Capt. Crow built the Owen in 1884, he quite frequently towed this yacht up and down the Thames. "I never charged anything for it, did it for the fun of the thing," he said. "One winter, I think it must have been 1887 or 1888, Capt. Stringer tied the yacht up on the bank. The ice brought down by the spring freshets stove in the hull, and the yacht sank. Capt. Stringer just left it there. This may be the hulk back of the Kerr property."

Another vessel which left her bones in the sand and mud back of Piggott's mill was the "Alliance," a sailing scow owned by Capt. Winegarden. It was what was known in those days as a "big scow," though it could be put inside one of the large scows Capt. Crow operated in recent years. The lakes and river were full of craft of that type in those days. Though registered as the "Alliance," the vessel was never referred to by that name, but was popularly known along the Thames as the "Bull of the Woods." She was employed in transporting sand from Lake St. Clair to Chatham. Her owner wouldn't pay anything for towing. He would sail the craft as far as he could, but if he encountered a wind ahead he would drive her nose into a bend of the river and wait till the wind changed or some accommodating steamboat came along and gave him a free tow. It was a frequent incident for those aboard some river craft, rounding a bend, to exclaim, more or less delightedly: "Hello! Here's the old Bull of the Woods."

The "Bull of the Woods" sank one winter at the end of Piggott's dock, and her water-soaked timbers are still there.

The fourth craft sunk in that stretch of the Thames has an interesting history, which could be disclosed by "Cap." F. B. Stevens. Cap. Stevens in his younger days built, manned and operated a sort of pleasure craft known as the "Dreadnaught," and she is sunk somewhere in the vicinity of Piggott's mill.

Another historic craft to leave her bones in the Thames was the "Dominion"—popularly known in later days as the "Old Dominion." Originally she was a side-wheel passenger steamer, brought to the Thames from Wallaceburg and operated on the Chatham-Detroit route. She was burned to the water's edge and sank at the Pain Court dock some 40 years ago. The Dominion Government ordered her removed as a menace to navigation, and she was promptly raised by Contractor Flook. The top works had all been burned off, but when the vessel was raised, it was found that the hull would float, the timbers being considerably above the water level. The contractor turned the "Dominion" over to his brother, who decked her and converted her into a barge or scow. When the present William street bridge was built, back of Taylor's mill, the stone for the abutments was brought up from Jeannette's Creek on the "Dominion." One winter she was tied up in the river near the northeast corner of Tecumseh Park and sank there, and her timbers are still buried in the sands at that point.

The "Dominion," as a passenger craft, was succeeded by the "Victoria," which also caught fire at Pain Court dock. When she caught fire, her lines were cut and she drifted across the river and about a quarter-mile below, where she grounded and burned to the water's edge. The steam barge, "Manitoba," was burned in the same way at Pain Court, and her hulk was raised and towed upstream to be out of the way of navigation, and sunk in the upper reaches of the Thames.

Another craft sunk in the upper Thames was the "John S. Noyes," owned and sailed by Captain Taylor Afterward Capt. Taylor built the "Ellie Taylor" and transferred the machinery from the "Noyes" to the new craft. The "Ellie Taylor" was afterward in use on the Welland Canal.

As for passenger navigation, the Victoria was succeeded by the J. W. Steinhoff, a popular craft in the early 90's. She was later on a Lake Erie run between Pelee Island, Amherstburg, and Leamington. Subsequently she was transferred to Wallaceburg, and ended her career in the Sydenham. Later came the City of Chatham owned and operated by the Chatham Navigation Company, and well known to excursionists of thirty or forty years ago.

One reason for the sinking of a number of moored vessels in the early days was the shortage of fuel and money to buy fuel. For the winter the craft were usually moored to stumps or piles, and it was no infrequent thing for hard-up folk in the 80's and early 90's to surreptitiously cut off stumps and piles for firewood, with the result that a craft securely tied up in the fall was decidedly loose in the spring. Nor was it uncommon for fuel-seekers to denude a wrecked craft of deck timbers or any other potential firewood that could be pried loose!

According to Captain Crow, Procter's gunboats were all sunk in the river above the city. The first was at Pikeville, just above the C.P.R. bridge. This gunboat was raised about 33 years ago by Captain—later Colonel—J. S. Black and associates and floated down to Tecumseh Park where it was taken ashore, and remained on exhibition for some time. Efforts were made by Capt. Black and others to secure the preservation of this interesting historical relic, but eventually the timbers were utilized in the manufacture of furniture, canes, and similar articles which are widely distributed throughout Kent County and elsewhere.

Capt. Crow has a cane from the old gunboat. A similar cane he traded for a cane made from the wood of Capt. Perry's flagship, raised some years ago at Erie. Two other interesting souvenirs are a cane cut from wood grown on the southernmost point of Canadian soil, at Pelee Island; and a cane cut on the battlefield of Ridgeway by a Canadian volunteer who was wounded in the battle with the Fenians. Captain Crow also had a jewel case made from gunboat oak, and a large cannon ball from the numerous balls and bullets found in the sunken craft. He mourns the loss of a number of others.

"I had a good many of them at one time," he explained, "but--oh, someone would want to take one home to show to the family, and next time I asked about it, it would be lost. And I'd never hear of it again."

A second gunboat is farther up the river, about halfway between Pikeville and Louisville, just across the river from Newkirks. She is sunk with her nose against the bank. Still another sunk at the bend near Louisville

Capt. Crow knows every inch of the river. "There are spots," he said where the Thames is 40 or 50 feet deep. But they are only holes. The average depth from here to Prairie Siding is between 10 and 11 feet though lower down it is deeper. Any vessel which is able to come up to Chatham as the river is now is able to turn in the space between the Kent Mills and the hydro station. The turning would be better if the sunken scow at this point were removed."

The schooner, "Elsie Larned," in which Capt. Crow began his sailing career, continued on the Thames till 1886. After the "Owen" was built the owners towed her behind that craft. It was found, however, that better results could be secured in the way of transporting cargo by utilizing the "Owen" alone; she could handle more materials in a given time through making quicker trips and being loaded and unloaded more rapidly. So the "Larned" was grounded near Prairie Siding and ultimately abandoned.

As to the hulk in the rear of the L B. Kerr property, it may, according Capt. Crow, be either the "Morning Light" or Capt. Stringer's yacht, both were sunk in that vicinity. The location of the second hulk would help materially in identifying the first.

THE LYMAN M. DAVIS.

Capt. E. J. Buzzard writes from Erieau, Ont:—

"Here are the dimensions of the schooner Lyman M. Davis, built in Muskegon, in the year 1873, and therefore now 60 years old:

"Her official length 123 feet; breadth, 27 feet 2 inches; depth, 9 feet four inches; gross tonnage, 195.35; nett tonnage, 185.59.

"My grandfather built her at the foot of Pine street, Muskegon, in the year 1873. I worked on her all winter, aged 17, and on January 26th was 18, and went as an able seaman in the spring.

"She was built for the Mason, Davis Lumberman Co., of Muskegon. Said firm had the distinction of cutting 250,000 feet of pine lumber in 24 hours. She was commanded by Capt. Fred Barner for eleven years, and in that eleven years was never in drydock, and in all that time no vessel, large or small, ever sailed by her, either in head winds or fair winds, nor in gale or light winds, so she was some sailer.

"I am enjoying good health, and am taking life easy, living here with my daughter and her husband. I will be seventy-seven January 26th next, and read and write without glasses. If I can give you anything further, I will be pleased to do so."

William J. Ward, 212 Boon ave., Toronto, is inspired to some brisk and not unpleasing verse, by the Lyman M. Davis at Sunnyside. As a sailor Mr. Ward must know that a vessel's sails are not "sheets." Alan Cunningham started the trouble with his "Wet Sheet and a Flowing Sea." The sheet in a vessel is not a sail at all. It is a rope, chain, or wire, controlling the sail. The "wet sheet" of Cunningham's lay may properly refer to the rope plunged in brine as the good ship rolls gunwales under through the "flowing sea," before the "wind that follows fast." "Three sheets in the wind" describes the condition of a vessel beginning to zigzag, so that the ropes which should hold her sails steady begin to flog about and fan the air, even as doth the drunkard on his uneven way. Every landsman delights to say sheets when he means sails, but it is not the sheets but he who is "all wet" in so doing. Mr. Ward's verses follow:--

A SAILOR HAILS THE LYMAN M. DAVIS.

Ahoy, tall ship, all silent and forlorn!

What reason for this berth so dull and drear?

Have ye forsaken full winds and the rolling seas

To idle out thy days at anchor here?

What for, I ask, since all the oceans wide

Still beckon to the remnant of thy kind,

And there be spanking breezes, left to swell they sheets

And sailormen be not so hard to find.

No fate like this becomes a ship of sail,

No matter if her day of usefulness be gone,

'Tis her's to face the fury of the raging gale

And vanish in the maelstrom of a screaming dawn;

For then, you see, she never would grow old

(And age serves as a butt for cruel jest),

And together with her crew of hardy sailormen

She would find a fitting place to take her rest.

So let us muster up a crew and square away

To join the ghostly legions of thy kind,

For soon there'll be a spanking breeze to swell thy sheets

And sailormen be not so hard to find.