College Papers - "Burning of the 'Granite State'.”


  English 22.

    Joseph A, Cone.

     First Year Special.

       Theme II. Rewritten.

  Nov. 13, 1894.

  Rewritten.



                                      Burning of the “Granite State”.

 

It was an unusually foggy morning in May and to look at the spot where Salmon River lay quietly in the moonlight the night before, one could almost imagine that a mammoth iceberg had floated in during the night and lay between one and the shore opposite, so densely did the damp clouds hang over the water. At four o’clock I was to row my father across the river. I remember how flat and heavy our conversation sounded as we moved slowly in the little row boat through the thick walls of vapor, and how from the larger river below low, rumbling sounds like those of a distant side-wheel steamer. “The ‘State’ is late this morning,” said my father, of the Steamer “Granite State”, which plied between New York City and Hartford. She usually passed the mouth of our river about midnight, on her way up the Connecticut.

Suddenly my father stopped me rowing and listened. “There’s something the matter down there,” he said, and by that time I could also distinguish strange sounds coming across the water. The rumblings grew louder and were accompanied by the hiss of escaping steam and miniature explosions. Reluctantly my father left the boat, and I returned home.

By this time the sounds from river below had grown frightful. I hurried up the steep hill behind our house hoping to obtain a glimpse of something above the fog, which I knew to be thinner at the top. Here nothing met my view, however, except the long, winding line of heavy vapor, but the sounds of disaster increased at every moment, and were now assisted by the screaming of whistles, the steady clanking of pumps, the shrieks of women and hoarse shouts of men. My boyish imagination was filled with wonder and confusion. What it all meant my wild flights of thought could in no way determine. The whole landscape seemed depressed, and not even an early morning bird was to be seen or heard anywhere. I could discern the long bank of fog as it wound down the Connecticut valley; could see where it joined that which hung over Salmon River, and still further on where it continued down between the hills, a long way beyond the scene of commotion, but underneath it all, and not far below where the rivers united, was taking place some disaster which was as completely shut out of my view as though a wall of masonry divided us.

Suddenly my feet nearly left the ground, caused by the shock of a tremendous explosion which boomed across the water and reverberated from hill to hill, and above the fog I could see thrown into the air, bits of burning wood and other debris.

It was then that the truth flashed across my mind. The “Granite State”, the dear old “Granite” which I had so many times admired as she swept proudly down the river, was burning. To me, a boy, standing all alone there on the hill, the thought seemed terrible. In my eagerness and excitement I climbed a tree so as to get still higher above the fog.

In a few moments a slight breeze from the North pressed against my cheek, and I could see the fog-clouds below me already beginning to chase one another towards the South. A few moments more, as if some magic hand swept down between the hills, the white veil lifted and disappeared into space, while the morning sun burst radiantly upon the scene. And such a scene it was! My simple country life had been so quiet and uneventful heretofore that in my excitement I nearly lost my hold on the branches above me. Lying lengthwise across the stream was the ill-starred steamer a mass of roaring, lapping flames from stem to stern. Great tongues of fire rose from her. leaping higher and higher, till it seemed as though they met the sky before darting from sight. Now that the fog had cleared the din of disaster seemed but to increase.

Hundreds of people from the river villages crowded to the very waters edge, and the river for a long distance up and down was thickly dotted with hurrying boats and bits of burning wreckage. The scene, grand as it was from one point of view, appalled me somewhat, and for a long time, even after the flames had died away and the blackened hull had disappeared under the surface of the Connecticut, I remained in my uncomfortable lookout, a picture of sorrowful meditation.

It was a new experience to me, and when last summer, after a lapse of fifteen

years, I stood on the hill and looked down the river, I could picture that May morning with its heavy pall of fog and its terrible disaster with as much clearness as though it were really taking place then and there.

 

See “The Ill-Starred Granite State (or ‘Burning of the Granite State’) (May 18, 1883)”, Feb. 1, 1892, Pub. in Conn. Valley Ad. 


https://whowasjoecone.blogspot.com/2015/02/the-ill-starred-granite-state-may-18.html

 



 

Earlier version:



    English 22.

  Joseph A, Cone.

      Theme #2

    Oct. 23, 1894.

 

You have chosen an excellent subject for description and have kept your point of view admirably. You introduce details unnecessary to your subject. Your language becomes conventional when you attempt to express the impression made on your own mind. Analyze in your themes, hereafter, your own impressions as you now the phenomena  of the foggy morning; and give us what was distinctive in your impression. Rewrite  H.V.A.



 


                                     Burning of the “Granite State”.

 


        It was an unusually foggy morning in May and to look at the spot where Salmon River lay quietly in the moonlight the night before, one could almost imagine that a mammoth iceberg had floated in during the night and lay between him one L.and the shore opposite, so densely did the damp clouds hang over the water. [As was customary,] I was about to row my father across the river at four o’clock in the morning, and being a boy I was in some doubt as to whether I could bring the boat to the landing opposite, so he, being an excellent boatsman, took the oars. Compact this sentence – or omit; see below I remember how flat and heavy our conversation sounded as [we] my father and I moved slowly in our little row boat through the thick walls of vapor, and how from the river below low, rumbling sounds like those of a distant side-wheel steamer. Lacks unity

“The ‘State’ is late this morning,” said my father, [referring to] of the Steamer “Granite State”, which plied between New York City and Hartford, and which usually passed the mouth of Salmon River (about two miles below us) about midnight, on her way up the winding Connecticut. K

Suddenly my father stopped rowing and listened. “There’s something the matter down there,” he said, and by that time I could also distinguish strange sounds coming across the water. The rumblings grew louder and were accompanied

by the hiss of escaping steam and miniature explosions. Being an old seaman my father was naturally anxious, but being obliged to go his way, he left the boat, and I headed for the homeward shore which I found after much difficulty. weak  By  this time the noises from river below had grown [positively] appalling, and acting upon my father’s advice, I [ascended] climbed up the high hill behind our house hoping [thereby] not a natural in this environment to obtain a glimpse of something above the fog, which I knew to be thinner at the top. Here nothing met my view, however, except the long, line of heavy vapor which followed the winding course of the river, but the sounds of disaster increased at every moment, and were now assisted by the screaming of whistles, the steady clanking of pumps, the shrieks of women and the hoarse shouts of men. My boyish imagination was filled with wonder[ment] L and confusion. What it all meant my wild flights of thought could in no way determine. The whole landscape seemed depressed, and [though it was sufficiently light in the fields and woods behind me,] not even an early morning bird was to be seen or heard anywhere. No ¶ I could discern the long bank of fog as it wound down the Connecticut valley; could see where it joined that which hung over Salmon River, and still further on where it continued down between the hills, a long way beyond the scene of commotion, but underneath it all, and not far below where the rivers united, was taking place some disaster which was as completely shut out of my view as though a [mighty] unnecessary wall of masonry divided us.

Suddenly my feet nearly left the ground, caused by the shock of a tremendous explosion which boomed across the water and reverberated from hill to hill, and above the fog I could see flying helter-skelter a word not congrueous to your theme through the air, bits of burning wood and other debris. It was then that the truth flashed across my mind. The “Granite State”, the dear old “Granite” which I had so many times admired as she swept proudly down the river, was burning. To me, a boy, standing all alone there on the hill, the thought seemed terrible, and I stood as one spell-bound. Too conventional

In a few moments a slight breeze from the North pressed against my cheek, and I could see the fog-clouds below me  already  beginning  to chase one another towards the South. A few moments more, as if some magic hand swept down between the hills, the white veil lifted and disappeared into space, while the morning sun burst radiantly upon the scene. The experience of that moment has fastened itself firmly upon me; I shall never forget it. Too conventional Lying lengthwise across the stream was the ill-starred steamer, a mass of roaring, lapping flames from stem to stern, while the river for a long distance was dotted with small boats and burning wreckage. The scene, grand as it was from one point of view, was truly W. appalling, and for a long time, even after the flames had died away and the blackened hull had lurched and sunk beneath the waters of the Connecticut, I stood as one in a dream. Too conventional

 It was a new experience to me, and when last summer, after a lapse Sp of fifteen years, I stood on the hill and looked down the river, I could picture that May morning with its heavy pall of fog and its terrible disaster with as much clearness as though it were really taking place then and there.

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