WHEN SHIPS COLLIDE; THE STORY OF THE LADY ELGIN
by Wayne "Skip" Kadar

The Lakeshore Guardian is thrilled to print another excerpt from Wayne "Skip" Kadar's book titled Great Lakes Passenger Ship Disasters. Purchasing information for his book is available at the end of the article. Join us now as Kadar takes us back in time to the Lady Elgin's collision.

J. C. Herbert leaned on the railing of the Lady Elgin looking out into the night, listening to the splash, splash, splash sound of the paddlewheel turning in Lake Michigan. It was late, or early in the morning, whichever 2 a.m. is considered. He had been dancing and celebrating with the others in the salon, but he left to cool off on deck. It was a warm night, but the open deck was still cooler than it was on the dance floor in the forward cabin.

He reflected on the events of the day, a day which had already lasted some 20 hours. The Milwaukee Union Guard, one of Wisconsin's State Militia companies, left on the sidewheeler Lady Elgin during the early morning hours on September 7, 1860, arriving in Chicago at dawn. The hours were filled with a parade through the streets of Chicago, a tour of the city, a dinner dance and a rousing speech from presidential candidate, senior Illinois Senator Steven Douglas, who opposed a young lawyer also from Illinois, Abraham Lincoln.

Remembering the parade, J. C. thought to himself, what a sight we must have made. The Milwaukee City Band led the way, the brass and drums announcing their arrival, followed by a procession of members of the Union Guard and guests. Next, the Milwaukee City council, representatives of several of the city's fire companies and a large number of Milwaukee Policemen proudly waved to the gathered crowds. Wrapping up the spectacle was the Milwaukee Light Guard Drum Corps, always a favorite wherever they play.

He enjoyed the dinner and dance that followed, but his favorite memory of the evening was listening to Steven Douglas. J.C. and the Milwaukee Union Guard shared the beliefs of Senator Douglas. While they did not support slavery, they felt that it was the right of each state to determine if they wanted slavery. The Governor of Wisconsin did not share this belief and revoked the Milwaukee Union Guard's charter and took back the Guard's weapons. The Governor was so upset that one of the state's Militia would defy him that he ordered them to disband.

The Union Guard was determined to fight the Governor. They organized several fund raising events to purchase new weapons, including an excursion aboard the passenger ship Lady Elgin to Chicago. They vowed they would remain a Wisconsin militia. They would sell tickets for the boat excursion to listen to Senator Douglas and a portion of each ticket sold would be returned to the Union Guard.

The excursion was such a success, the ship was filled. The 252 foot long by 33.7 foot wide Lady Elgin was rated for 200 cabin and 100 deck passengers, but for this momentous trip there were many more than that. The ship sailed with those supporting the Union Guard and the Lady Elgin's passengers on her normal route. The decks were lined with people, young and old, standing, sitting and sleeping wherever space could be found. The actual count of passengers on board the Lady Elgin that evening isn't known, yet the estimate is about 385, more than the ship's capacity.

The Lady Elgin had been built just nine years earlier at Buffalo, New York. Her steam engine turned two paddlewheels, 32 feet in diameter, one on each side of the vessel. Known as a luxurious ship, she originally made the run from the eastern ports on Lake Ontario to Chicago; but during the 1860 season, she ran primarily as a passenger and general freight boat up Lake Michigan to the Soo Locks, into Lake Superior and back.

J. C., staring absent-mindedly, was suddenly brought back to reality as the first flash of lightning lit the sky. Within seconds, a terrific crash of thunder followed. The seas were running high, and the wind had been freshening, but the ship still made good time. The wind shifted to the northeast; the rain came so hard it obscured visibility for but a few feet, and the waves grew, assaulting the starboard bow of the ship.

That morning the Lady Elgin had traveled 16 miles north of Chicago on the first leg of her normal route up Lake Michigan stopping at various ports. The first stop would be at Milwaukee where the Union Guard would disembark. Her position was 10 miles off Winnetka, Illinois.

The deck passengers, already pressed for space, scurried to find shelter from the rain. Mothers with babes in their arms, elderly and youth all trying to keep out of the rain and the wind. The main salon was filled with the Milwaukee Union Guard and guests. Although many had retired to their cabins, several still danced and reveled in the success of their day while the deck passengers huddled together attempting to stay dry.

Captain Wilson of the Lady Elgin had retired to his cabin. He felt his ship being pounded by the seas and heard the wind mounting. He prepared to return to the bridge, knowing he may not be needed; but he felt more comfortable there. Before he could leave, he was knocked to the floor. The Lady Elgin had struck something, or something had struck it.

People dancing in the salon were thrown to the floor. Several were crushed against the wall by their friends as the ship took a sudden list top port. Those asleep in the cabins were awakened as their belongings flew from tables, and they were thrown from their beds. The ship took on a severe list to port.

Young Kenneth Cole, with his mother and a party of 15 others returning from eastern ports, was walking to his cabin when the ship took a tremendous lurch. He was thrown against the cabin wall, bouncing off a lady who had fallen. Blood ran down his face from the gash above his right eye.

Passengers on the decks, already panicked by the rain, thunder, lightening and heavy seas, now questioned the mysterious shutter and list to port.

On the bridge of the Lady Elgin, the wheelman held the wheel tight, his knuckles white as he fought the force of wind and waves. Scanning the horizon through the rain and spray, he saw something off the port bow. It disappeared in the rain, but then suddenly reappeared; it was a schooner sailing towards them. The schooner, sails mostly tattered, had a severe list, blown by the storm on a collision course with the Lady Elgin!

Captain Darius Malott of the 128 foot, two-masted schooner Augusta stood near the helm. The wheelsman held tight to the wheel. The ship was blown before the wind, not responding to the wheel. The suddenness of the squall had not allowed the crew time to decrease the sails. She was caught with a full head of sail with a gale force wind blowing down on her and her deck load of lumber had shifted causing her to list drastically. Her canvas was being ripped to shreds as she was pushed with the wind. Her foresail was blown out, removing her ability to maneuver; she was sailing out of control. With no way to decrease the remaining sail area or to realign the deck load, the wind pushed her almost on her starboard rail. The storm was having its way with the schooner; she was sailing directly at the Lady Elgin, and there was nothing Captain Malott could do about it.

The first mate saw the schooner appear out of the wind driven rain on a collision course with the Lady Elgin and screamed to the wheelsman, "Port the wheel, port the wheel!" trying to pass the Lady Elgin at her bow, rather than port to port as was the rule.

Veins on his neck and muscles in his arms bulged as the Augusta's wheelsman fought the wind and seas to bring the ship to port. The mate prayed his ship would turn and avoid a collision with the large steel vessel.

The wheelsman and mate were violently thrown to the deck as the Augusta smashed into the port side of the Lady Elgin. The schooner's bow struck the side of the passenger ship just aft of the sidewheel, near the wheel box.

The schooner had penetrated the Lady Elgin to the extent that its bowsprit penetrated deep into the Elgin's cabin work and was embedded into her side.

The Augusta, for several minutes, was dragged across the lake her bow buried in the side of the Lady Elgin. The forward motion of the Lady Elgin dislodged the Augusta, its bowsprit prying the port paddlewheel off the passenger ship.

Panicking passengers onboard the overcrowded Lady Elgin ran in all directions, not knowing in which safety laid. Adults, small children and the elderly unable to keep up were pushed down and trampled by the scared passengers. People cried for life preservers. Unfortunately, there were just a few canvas vests with wood sewn into pockets, and passengers fought over them. The panicked lot screamed, cried and prayed. Some injured lay moaning in pain. Others yelled for loved ones separated in the chaos. Above the human wailing could be heard the clanging of the ship's bell and the steam whistle sounding a distress signal into the night.

The frightened crowd on the Lady Elgin watched the schooner as it slowly broke away from the Lady Elgin. A loud cracking of heavy timbers could be heard as the port wheel was ripped away. The schooner, what was left of her sails, still set, caught the wind and the ship began to be blown away. Passengers on the Lady Elgin staring in disbelief, screamed for the schooner to stay and take them aboard, lower a small boat, or at least throw over some of its deck load of lumber for them to use as floats. Despite the cries from the Lady Elgin, the ship sailed off, disappearing into the rain and the dark of night.

Be sure to look for the continuation in next month's issue as Kadar shares his passenger ship disaster discoveries.

Wayne "Skip" Kadar's latest book titled, Great Lakes Passenger Ship Disasters can be purchased at the Corner Store in Harbor Beach or by calling the publisher, Avery Color Studios, Inc. at 1-800-722-9925. Avery color Studios is the publisher of an extensive list of Great Lakes books.