by J. F. Collen
She looked at her daughters and laughed. They skipped around, enjoying the sudden changes of position.
Obadiah laughed too. “Seen through younger eyes, ‘tis merely a game. Bobbing one’s self down at randomly spaced bridges is stimulating.”
Nellie said, “In this spirit, the next time we are forced to prostrate ourselves in homage to the lack of clearance, I shall peep around to see if everyone else looks as comic as I feel.”
She did not have long to wait. Gliding under the next low bridge, Nellie convulsed with laughter at the sight of a young boy sprawled on his ear, a portly gentleman hugging the deck, and a middle-aged matron lying on her side, still talking to her companion, who was on her hands and knees. From these strange positions, the two women continued their conversation as if there were no reason to pause.
The Wrights spent a pleasant morning on deck watching dark dense forests, small log-cottages, farmhouses, and the occasional church-spire float by. A professor from Union College and his wife got on in Schenectady. They were on a holiday to Niagara Falls. Nellie found pleasure in their company.
This pleasure was increased by her secret joy in overhearing the professor remark to Obadiah, “Good Sir, you most emphatically and categorically should take the requisite time to detour to Niagara Falls. This is the second trip for the missus and me. The magnificence of the Falls astounds the visitor and compels one to return to its beauty. Many a dignitary, quite a few foreigners, and even some royalty travel from all ends of the earth to see these Falls, claiming their splendor without parallel anywhere in the world. Yet you, Sir, ignore them as an unnecessary detour! The Northern Tour has become quite fashionable, thanks to Niagara Falls, and the ease of travel of our old Erie Canal. Tourism is another form of the commerce this manmade seaway nurtures.”
But Obadiah remained resolute in his desire to press on, without sightseeing detours.
The professor shook his head as if in dismay at Obadiah’s foolishness. “My wife and I have the luxury of traveling again to the Falls. In fact, we could foreseeably take this journey every summer, when Union term is on holiday. But you, my good fellow? With the goals and parameters of the journey you’ve articulated, shall you ever pass this way again?”
These words burned into Nellie’s soul, and she remembered them long after. Shall I ever pass this way again? She wondered afresh at each new sight in their journey. The subject of the conversation switched with no further memorable words from either man. Nellie only listened with half an ear to the merits of Union College, its learned staff, and varied curriculum.
“Our venerable Board of Trustees at Union College now offer a civil engineering degree,” the professor said with pride. Nellie turned two ears of attention back to the conversation. “We are the first institution of higher learning to offer this training,” boasted the professor.
“I beg to differ,” Nellie interrupted. “West Point Military Academy has offered civil engineering training since its inception.” Both men looked at her with raised eyebrows and open mouths. Must I not interject my knowledgeable opinion simply because I am a lady? she wondered.
“My word! You Yankees are a feisty, opinionated bunch,” said the professor, but with a jovial smile. He and Obadiah gave hearty laughs. The professor cleared his throat. “Hopping horse feathers, Union College has one of the largest faculties in American higher education and an enrollment surpassed only by the esteemed Yale University. Only a native New Yorker would have the temerity to question our accolades. Howsoever, I shall concede, West Point commands the honorable achievement of ‘first’ technical college in the States. Nevertheless, Union College does lay claim to the first successful attempt in America to raise applied science and technology to a collegiate level.”
“One of the first, but well after West Point,” amended Nellie with a laugh. My heart capers with joy at the reception my contribution to the sport and stimulation of conversation receives.
The professor blushed, nodded, and resumed his thought. “Ever since those chaps completed the Erie Canal, the rest of the nation desires its own canals too. We need more engineers. Never you mind that most of the men designing the Canal had little or no formal engineering training. Now, I am not one to cast aspersions, but perhaps that lack of book learning is the reason for erosion of the banks and silt formation in the canal, right from the get go.”
He cocked his head to the side and mumbled to himself, “Or it could be just as critics’ claim, the wake from swiftly moving vessels dislodges the dirt from the canal banks, and the displaced dirt accumulates on the bottom of the canal creating shallow areas that ground boats and slow traffic.” The man shook his big shaggy-haired head again and said louder, “Yes sir, our country needs more engineers. Moreover, that need shall only intensify. A project to widen the canal began way back in 1836. That venture needs more engineering minds, if it is ever to be completed.”
“Tummy hungry. Eat breakfast. Now?” asked Elizabeth.
They all laughed.
“Certainly, my tummy says it is time for dinner too,” said Nellie and gave Elizabeth a hug. They went below deck, both girls hungry and tired from skipping around every time a bridge loomed overhead. They saw the kitchen staff elongate the table in the center of the sitting cabin. Soon the table was filled with fresh-caught bass, cucumber, tomatoes, hot fluffy biscuits, smooth churned butter, ale, iced water with lemon, and tea.
“Yum, yum,” said Elizabeth.
Their supper later that day was equally delicious; a soup of ham and potatoes, honey cakes, cornbread, and jam.
At eight o’clock, supper concluded, the multipurpose room was once again converted, but this time into a dormitory. Nellie and her family looked on in amazement as the crew transformed the cushioned benches into beds.
“Mama, look!” said Emma. “The settee that goes the whole length of the boat right up to the kitchen unfolds into a cot!”
“Yes,” said Nellie. “I have read of the remarkably efficient use of the sparse space inside these packet boats, but the sight exceeds expectations.”
“Just wait until you see the source of the rest of the beds,” said Obadiah.
The crew stuck the long end of frames into sockets arranged in pairs, one above the other, along the walls over each of the newly made beds. Next, they attached two cords to hooks in the ceiling and then secured them, one at the head of the bed frame and one at the foot, on the side of each frame that stuck out into the room. Finally, they placed pallet bedding and a thin pillow across each frame.
“Voila!” exclaimed Obadiah, as if he had invented the design himself.
“The space between the berths is barely sufficient for a man to crawl in,” worried Nellie.
“We will sleep on those shelves?” asked Emma.
“Do you not entertain apprehension of asphyxiation, lest the cords should break?” Nellie mouthed the words behind her hand, to prevent the children and other passengers from hearing her anxiety.
“Such fears are groundless. These berths have been engineered rather cunningly, as I am sure our good professor from Union College will attest.” Obadiah patted Nellie’s hand reassuringly, as she did the same for Emma.
“Mayhap that gentleman....” Nellie looked over at a portly man, still munching on a second piece of cake from their supper, “...would feel most comfortable on the lowest bed, or even a pallet on the floor.” Obadiah looked at her in surprise.
Nellie blushed. “I apologize for my uncharitable remark. ‘Twas truly unchristian to call attention to his jollocks. I do believe this journey beyond civilization already triggers a lapse in my manners,” she said. What an unkind thing, underscoring a man’s excessive weight in front of my daughters.
They walked in between the rows of bunk beds.
“I have selected this berth for its location, directly adjacent to my bunk on the other side of the curtain divide,” said Obadiah. He put Nellie’s small traveling case on top of the lowest bunk bed. “With you and the girls snug-a
-bug in this innermost berth in the ladies’ section, our heads shall almost touch when we are sleeping!”
The girls giggled at the thought.
The crimson curtain dropped, dividing the men from the women. With a quick kiss for each, Obadiah lifted the curtain and disappeared behind it.
Nellie helped her chatting daughters into their nightdresses, and then lay on the bunk with them, fully clothed, one nestled in each arm. The girls snuggled in and with just a minimum of tossing and wriggling, fell asleep.
But Nellie lay awake, at rigid attention. The jerk and pull of the horses powering this barge is an impediment to sleep. The notion that this uneven movement would inhibit the onset of slumber never crossed my mind. I have always delighted in the gentle, or even rough, motion of our Hudson River. ‘Tis quite unexpected the mere floating of this vessel does anything other than instantly lull one to sleep.... Nellie suddenly giggled to herself. Mais oui! I cannot sleep because our ship performs a ‘triangulation of a mud puddle’!
“Shhhhh,” hissed a warning from below her.
Tarnation! Now I am too irked for slumber. Mayhap a perambulation upon the stern deck will ease my tension whilst I enjoy a view of the canal at night.
The lantern at the end of the stern lit the faces of two men, deep in conversation. Nellie was delighted to discover Obadiah talking to the steersman. He held out his hand for her and she joined them.
“Halloo!” called the steersman, pointing and waving at a craft behind them. “That there is the Starry Flag, a freight boat licensed for perishables and only four passengers. You see there, Captain Angus Robie commanding the helm. A more macaroni and personable seaman you won’t be easily finding on this here canal.”
A companionable silence fell. The Wrights looked at their boat’s wake, and the scenery they had just passed, and after a moment, wished the steersman good night. Strolling arm in arm, they walked back toward the cabin door. Obadiah paused, drew Cornelia around to face him and said, “A breath of fresh air on the top deck, whilst our babies sleep might prove just the elixir we need to refresh our sense of adventure.”
They scrambled up the ladder to the roof of the cabin, and looked out over the water.
“I must confess, the lanterns of the approaching boats look like fairy lights. ‘Tis quite the romantic view of the canal—mud puddle or not.” Nellie laughed.
“Keep your eyes trained on the canal ahead then,” Obadiah replied, standing behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist, nestling his chin on her shoulder and planting his feet to keep her looking forward. “Do not turn to see the ruined white cedar and black ash to our right, past the berm. ‘Tis ghost-like in the extreme. This seems the very land of unsubstantial things. Therefore, I shall dwell upon your romantic fairies and not give another thought to the ghastly ghosts of tree stumps that surround us.”
The couple enjoyed a few minutes of serenity. Nellie leaned back against Obadiah’s solid warm body, watching the lighted boats glide past, viewing the stars up above. Just as Nellie thought, ‘Tis so refreshing and romantic out here, I might not choose to re-enter that stuffy cabin at all tonight, she heard a faint low bridge warning, and threw herself prostrate on the deck.
Obadiah bent down over her. “Mayhap you have overreacted? No bridge would be that low.”
But as Nellie lay there, they heard the warning again. She sat up and then lay back down, pulling Obadiah down with her.
“Golly,” he said. “I stand corrected.”
“No,” Nellie said, giggling. “You lay, corrected!”
In the darkness, from his prone position, Obadiah kissed her. Nellie opened her eyes and looked at the starry night. Obadiah nibbled on her ear.
“Goodness! Obadiah, we must save these romances for our bedroom,” Nellie said, trying to sit up and look proper.
Obadiah pulled her back down. “There is no bedroom, just a multipurpose room with shelf berths!” He kissed her again, sliding his lips from her cheek to her mouth. His warm, tender lips lingered, kissing her again and again. Nellie felt the familiar tingle of anticipation and reached her hand around him to run it through his silky hair.
Obadiah kissed her chin, his lips soft under his mustache, his breath warm on her cheek. “‘Tis heavenly,” whispered Nellie, snuggling under his arm, kissing him passionately in return.
He kissed her briskly and pulled her upright. She looked at him in surprise.
He laughed, and she saw his rueful look clearly in the moonlight. “I must remind us both—we are bereft of a bedroom!”
They made their way down the ladder and stood in front of the cabin door. Nellie realized anew, with an unpleasant jolt, they must part for the night. She gave Obadiah a self-conscious peck on his cheek.
She entered the ladies’ section but still did not disrobe. She climbed up to her middle berth and then knelt on its edge. She re-tightened the scarf she had strung from cord to cord down the length of her daughters’ bed and tucked its edge under their pallet to prevent them from rolling out and dropping onto the floor. She tugged it to make sure it was taut, and then fell back onto her shelf, her muscles tense and tight.
Eventually, she found sleep, rocked gently enough to elude consciousness by the barge floating along, all night, through the muddy canal.
Chapter 20 – What a Difference a Day Makes
Erie Canal, Herkimer to Rochester, New York, October 1856
The morning brought a confusion of arms, legs, and dresses flying about as all the inhabitants of the ladies’ cabin tried to get ready for the day at the same time.
“We are so mixed up, I can’t pick myself out!” laughed Emma. The women nearby smiled, confirming the jovial mood with their own laughter.
The good nature of this company is our saving grace. In all the commotion of these cramped quarters, not a cross word heard, not a sourpuss scowl seen.
“How sleep, Papa?” asked Elizabeth, when they found Obadiah on the stern deck. Nellie and Emma hugged him good morning.
“I did doubt I would acquire any rest at all—one of twenty men lying like a pack of herring in a barrel. In addition to the berths, men lay end to end on the floor. When the boat thumped against a lock, I constantly worried I would be tossed from my bed and land on the sternum of an unsuspecting fellow sleeper. Howsoever, I do believe my repose was fairly adequate.”
“Mama, have we been to this town before?” asked Emma, pointing to the stone houses, taverns, shops, and churches.
“I believe this is the hamlet of Herkimer,” said Nellie. But tarry a moment. These quays and the harbor bustle so, could we be in the inland city, Utica? No, no, that would require docking. “I must confess each small town, so recently hatched along this canal, seems much the same to me too, my little pumpkin.” She held both her daughters’ hands as they watched the town float by.
“The only difference is how many locks and docks,” agreed Emma, and Nellie marveled at the astuteness of her observation.
Drawn forward by their three horses, they floated along the canal section dubbed the ‘Black Snake’, due to the winding course dug for this part of the channel. Their forward progress quickened in this serpentine section from Utica to Syracuse, however, because this long level part of the canal contained no locks. Speed unimpeded by gates, they sailed on.
Obadiah jumped off the boat onto the towpath and, matching his pace to their packet’s travel, walked alongside them. The girls jumped up and down on the deck, calling to him.
“Your walk is a brisk four miles per hour,” Nellie called to Obadiah, and his daughters applauded.
“From whence did you obtain that information?” Obadiah called back.
“The steersman told me that is the usual speed of the packet,” Nellie replied.
“Horse feathers!” said Obadiah. “One would imagine that with three horse-power a small vessel like this packet could go faster than that.”
“Whoa, hoggee,”called the steersman. The boy leading the horses stopped in front of a fresh
pack of horses. The second he stopped walking, the boy and the land agent who brought the new horses started unbuckling harnesses. During the process of unhitching the old pack, one of the crew pulled the ship closer to the berm and Nellie and her daughters disembarked. The girls ran to Obadiah, hugging his legs. Several other passengers poured off the boat behind them.
Splash!
A man, dressed in his Sunday best, fell into the muddy canal. All the ladies gasped and Nellie feared for his safety. Can he swim? she wondered, scenes of the horrible disaster of the Henry Clay flashing before her eyes. His head underwater, he floundered for a second in the dank, murky water.
At last he raised his head, gasping for breath, flailing his arms in a desperate attempt to stay afloat.
“On yer feet, man!” shouted the steersman. “‘Tis only four feet of water still in this part.”
The man stood up, sputtering. The murky water only came up to his waistcoat. All those safe and dry, both onboard and on land, laughed and applauded this comic entertainment. The man flushed the crimson of his cummerbund.
Goodness, Nellie thought, relief washing over her like the refreshing shower she was sure the man now coveted.
The moment her terror subsided, however, a more mundane fear crossed her mind. That crimson velvet of his cummerbund might just remain brown as there is a dearth of fresh water for scrubbing onboard. She shook her head in dismay. That laundering cannot wait until he reaches his destination.
Obadiah saw the steersman, now enjoying a stint on land while they swapped horse teams, was the same man with whom he had conversed the night before. “Why does the packet travel at a mere four miles per hour? Is this vessel not capable of a faster speed?” he asked.
The steersman turned red and sputtered, “This little ship is fleet and yar as they come. ‘Tis the high mucky-mucks of the Canal Commission, deciding fast travel causes damage to our canal—them are the geniuses that put a four mile per hour speed cap on our travel.” The man shook his head in disgust. “Let ‘em come here and ask me. I’ll tell ‘em what truly causes damage....” He shook his fist in a menacing gesture and Obadiah did not pursue it further.