The Lampasas Daily Leader. (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 7, No. 2132, Ed. 1 Monday, January 23, 1911 Page: 3 of 4
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OMANCE, tragedy, heroic sac-
rifice and deep mystery make
up the story of the “Pere Mar-
quette,” the great ferry boat
which sank with its load of
human freight in the middle of Lake
Michigan on the morning of Septem-
ber 9, 1910.
News dispatches of the days imme-
diately following the disaster depicted
the romance, tragedy and heroism.
But the mystery is deeper today than
It was on the morning the accident
occurred.
Marine history chronicles no other
case of this character. Ships have
gone to sea never again to be heard
of, and the mystery of what became
of them has not been dispelled. Other
ships have sunk or been destroyed by
fire or otherwise, but always, even
though the survivors numbered only
a mere handful, there have been sat-
isfactory explanations of the cause
that brought about the disaster.
Twenty-seven of her crew, includ-
ing the captain and- other officers,
went down with the Pere Marquette,
while 32 others of crew and passen-
gers were saved by the timely ar-
rival of ferry boat No. 17 of the Pere
Marquette line.
But the amazing fact is that not
one of the survivors could tell what
happened to the stricken vessel. And
despite the time that has elapsed and
the exhaustive investigations carried
on by the owners of the vessel and
by the government authorities, the
mystery still exists.
What really did happen to the Pere
Marquette? What caused the great
lake leviathan, under headway for
three hours or more after she was
first damaged, to suddenly stop in her
course, poise for a brief moment and
then drop, stern foremost, like a lead-
en weight to the bottom of the lake?
Did the Pere Marquette strike a
submerged wreck?
Did he” great cargo of loaded
freight ears shift?
Was some of her crew drunk?
Was an anarchistic maniac aboard?
Had the vessel a vital defect in her
construction, and if so are others of
the Pere Marquette class constantly
facing a similar danger?
These and dozens of like questions
are now being asked daily by every
man connected with the shipping of
the Great Lakes. And the theories ad-
vanced in response to the queries are
as numerous as the questioners. It
is the one unsolved mystery of traf-
fic on our inland seas.
Here was a great modern vessel,
newly examined by the federal in-
spectors, only a few hours out on her
first trip after leaving the inspection
docks, protected by every method, hu-
man and mechanical, known to navi-
gation—and not on the vast ocean, but
on a land-locked lake.
A relief boat was in sight before
How Old Hunter Cooks Wild Ducks.
Many persons imagine a wild duck
should only be roasted or baked,
whereas that is the poorest and most
unsatisfactory method of all. Nine
times out of ten a baked wild duck
comes to the table dry and shrunken
till there is nothing but the flavor and
a little meat on the breast and thighs
left.
A better way is to joint two or three
ducks (three to five if they are teal
or butter ducks) into small pieces, put
in a pot with pickled pork, sliced
short, and one good sized onion to the
duck. Salt to suit the taste, and set
on a slow fire, where they should stew
gently four hours, never less than
three. After this has cooked down to
a sort of brown pot roast the whole
will be found succulent, juicy and ten-
der. Try it. The less water used in
dressing ducks and all wild game the
better.
the Pere Marquette went down and
followed in her wake for half an hour
or more in response to her distress
signals, was within fifty yards of her
when she sank, and picked up the
survivors.
All on board knew she was crip-
pled hours before she went down, and
a number of passengers talked to the
captain and his officers and to mem-
bers of the crew. Some of the crew
themselves were saved.
Following the disaster anjnvestiga-
t.ion so searching that it fairly grilled
the survivors with questions was in-
stituted by boards of inquiry which
had every authority to summon wit-
nesses and cross-examine, and which
was supplied with the best expert ad-
vice and assistance.
And yet—the mystery of what hap-
pened is as dark and unresponsive to-
day as the 520 feet of blue water
which covers the wreck of the Pere
Marquette and the bodies of its he-
roic crew.
A few minutes before midnight on
September 8 the huge steel car ferry
left her slip at Ludington, Mich., and
started across to Milwaukee with a
cargo of 29 loaded freight cars and a
number of passengers.
That day two United States gov-
ernment inspectors had gone over her
from stem to stern and pronounced
her one of the most seaworthy ves-
sels on the lakes. She had been built
only a few years before. During the
summer she had been in the excur-
at once wakened the wireless operator
and instructed him to get in touch
with land or with other steamers.
For an hour the wireless’ searched
the lake, but could get no answer.
Finally word .reached Ludington and
ferry boats No. 6 and No. 20 started
in search of the distressed vessel.
No. 17 of the Pere Marquette service,
en route from Milwaukee to Luding-
ton, came within sight of the crip-
pled No. 18, however, and in response
to her distress flags offered assist-
ance.
In the meantime everybody on board
had gotten up. Captain Kilty was on
deck and many of the passengers
talked with him. All of the crew was
aroused and put to work. And yet,
with all of this opportunity, none of
the members of the crew who were
saved, nor any of the passengers,
learned what was the matter with the
vessel.
Theories of the Disaster.
Here are some of the theories as
to what happened to the Pere Mar-
quette:
Loaded freight cars, being run over-
board, through the open rear, jammed
on the “fantail” at the stern.
Portholes, opened by an insane man,
and bulkhead blown out, admitted wa-
ter to engine room, flooding ship.
Dynamite thrown into the boilers by
maniac or brought aboard in coal and
accidentally shoveled in by stokers.
Water entering “flicker” compart-
ment through open portholes burst
bulkheads and sank the vessel.
Struck by a submerged wreck.
Deck scuttles near the stern washed
off and after compartment flooded.
Sea cock allowed to remain open in
after compartment.
Stern plates loosened while vessel
was in its slip taking on freight cars.
Bottom pierced by floating log.
Carelessness of members of crew
who may have been drinking.
Numerous other theories are ad-
vanced by persons familiar with lake
traffic, but none of them explain sat-
isfactorily just what happened to the
Pere Marquette.
As the vessel went down many of
the passengers and crew leaped into
the water from the fore part, while
others were swept off. So abrupt was
the descent that the waves threw a
lifeboat which had put off from the
ferry boat No. 17 back against that
vessel’s side and crushed it.
Ferry boats Nos. 6 and 20 from Lud-
ington and the tug A. A. C. Tessle.r,
which had come out from Milwaukee,
and another tug from Sheboygan, Wis.,
towing the Sheboygan life-saving
crew, came onto the scene after the
vessel sank, but in time to assist in
picking up the survivors.
These facts indicate the suddenness
with which the collapse came. The
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rLICKZfciPOdTHOLt
JOLLlStOM
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Interior of the Ship.
Choice Brand of Cream.
Anybody who believes that the so-
ciety women of Washington do not
Iknow how to look after their house-
keeping accounts is mistaken. The
sion service out of Chicago. This
was her first trip after being returned
to the ferry service.
Shortly after three o’clock on the
morning of September 9 Captain Pete
Kilty was called and told that there
was something wrong. He arose at
once to investigate.
Less than an hour later passengers
were startled from their sleep by rap-
pings on their doors and the voice of
the cabin boy shouting, as his feet
pattered on to the next cabin: “The
captain says for everybody to get
up!”
Seymour B. Cochrans, general man-
ager of the Chicago Navigation com-
pany, was one of the passengers. Up-
on being called by the cabin boy he
wife of a western senator was sent a
bill for a pint of cream and the charge
on it was $1.15. She went to see the
dairyman and made an indignant pro-
test against the size of the bill. “Well,
you see,” he explained, “that was a
particular brand of cream.” “Oh,” she
said, “I thought you were going to say
you had sold me the whole cow.”
vessel gave a great lunge, the stern
shot downward and the prow up, then
the Pere Marquette disappeared.
Most of the crew were still working
below, trying to repair whatever dam-
age then existed, and they went down
with the boat Captain Kilty, on deck,
followed the traditions of the seas and
rests at the bottom of Lake Michigan
with his vessel, and thus all who know
what did happen, if any of them real-
ly did know, lie in a watery grave.
Points of View Differ.
In Finland the women consider a
kiss on the lips as the greatest insult,
even from their own husbands.
One Consolation.
At any rate the husband of the suf-
fragette can’t taunt her with not get-
ting the votes his mother used to get.
How to Succeed.
If you want to succeed in the world
you must make your own opportuni-
ties as you go on.—John B Gough.
Just So.
A married woman might be referred
to as a peach, but she has to be di-
vorced before she becomes a peach o’
Reno.
Same Thing.
“Talking about detectives, I saw
Fox on the qui vive today.”
“Nothin’ of the sort. He was on
the job.”
Makes Big Row.
What an awful row a little boil can
kick up! In spite of its small size it
seems to be pulling ligaments out of
your body.
OQCCOOOOOOOOCOOOOOOOOOOQOOOOOOOQGOCOOQOOOOOOCOOOOOOO]
t:
Practical.
“She told me that he had written 31
sonnets extolling her charms.”
“Gracious! Did she marry him?"
“Mercy, no! She married a corner
grocer.”
His View.
“This little girl won’t have a doll.
Wants a toy dog.”
“Looks like the true society mother
instinct,” suggested the other—a mere
man, of course.
Crave Comradeship.
We all need companionship of soma
sort.—Bishop of Knaresborough.
Inherent Nobility.
The aids to noble life are all within,
-Arnold.
SouSe’s Great
By WILLIAM G. KIRSCHBAUM
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Copyright, 1910, by Associated Literary Press.
Self-conquest lies In obedience, obe-
dience lies in knowledge.—Ciodd.
Fairfield was football crazy. Ev-
erybody in town discussed the ap-
proaching game between the Single-
tons and the local college eleven.
For weeks the townspeople had
talked of nothing else, and every
maiden in the place was sure to be a
spectator, wearing the college color.
Old Sam Jones, the leading dry-goods
merchant, had done a rushing busi-
ness in the sale of blue ribbons and
other trimmings of that color, and it
is no wonder when a movement was
started-for a general suspension of
business for that afternoon, that he
readily responded.
The Singletons represented a rival
college, a few miles north of Fair-
field. For years Fairfield had boast-
ed of its college, one of the best in
the Old Bay State, and her citizens
took commendable pride in every-
thing undertaken by the faculty of
that institution. And there was noth-
ing slow In the personnel of that fac-
ulty. The professors might be gray
with age, but they were not ancient
in their views. They were abreast
of the times and had adopted a very
liberal policy, which appealed not only
to the students, but to the parents.
It wTas a popular Institution with
every one in town, and the morrow
bade fair to be a gala day in its his-
tory. Much was expected of the Fair-
field eleven. The Singletons had
faced the best teams in the Inter-
scholastic league, winning in every
game; while the Fairfield eleven had
been equally successful. The cham-
pionship rested on the morrow’s game
and fortune favored the blues, inas-
much as a lucky drawing earlier in
the season had named Fairfield as the
scene of the great contest.
This suited the Falrfielders, for it
was only a few months back that the
Singletons had marched off the Fair-
field grounds victors in the closing
game of the baseball season. And
there was not a ball crank in town
who was not anxious for iv?venge.
Line Soule was responsible for that
defeat, and he knew it as well as any-
body. With the score 3 to 3, his muff
of an easy fly in short left, gave Sin-
gleton the winning run, for Fred
Browne, who was on third base, dash-
ed for the home plate as he saw the
ball drop out of Line’s mitt. Before
leaving Fairfield that evening the Sin-
gleton’s painted the little town crim-
son. The rough house play of the
victors that evening will never be for-
gotten and that defeat was never men-
tioned except with thoughts of re-
venge.
Line Soule felt it keenly, and no
one thought of alluding to that mis-
play in his presence. As the football
season approached he wras as deter-
mined as usual, and when the season
had progressed he as the right half-
back had performed wonders on the
gridiron. His playing had been the
talk of every club in the league. “He’s
the man to lay for,” “Put In your in-
terference on his end,” and similar
advice was given the Singletons be-
fore the contest.
The night before the great game
the Falrfielders met in the gymnasium
and talked over plans for the morrow.
Then the brawny youths wended their
way to their quarters.
Line Soule headed straight for the
town, and some of his comrades
thought he had taken offense because
of an accidental allusion to the defeat
ot last summer.
Blnxie, the little quarterback, who
roomed with Line, gazed on his pal
making strides for the center, and
then in a voice more emphatic than
grammatical, begged him to come
back.
“Come, old man, cut it out. Let’s
turn in; we’ll be better for it in the
morning,” was his logical advice.
“All right Binxie, I’ll be with you
in an hour; you need not worry about
me. I’ll be in that game tomorrow,
never fear. But I must go down
town,” was Line’s reply.
He walked until he reached a neat
cottage on the main street. As he
ascended the steps It was evident he
was no stranger. It was the home of
Duncan Butler, one of the professors
of Fairfield college.
A bright-eyed girl answered the
bell, and when Line entered the re-
ception room his greeting was:
“Lida, 1 want you to go to the game
tomorrow.”
“Oli, Line, I do so want to go,” she
said, “but I had better not; you know
if it hadn’t been for me last summer
you would never have let that horrid
Fred Browne make that run, and I
mean to stay at home.”
“I know, Lida, the boys think I had
my eyes oh you Instead of the ball
that afternooq, and that is just why I
want you to go tomorrow,” he urged.
“Is it best, Line?” she asked.
“Yes,” was the quick reply. “I
want you to be on the field. I want
to show the boys that you were not
responsible for that muff. I mean to
redeem myself tomorrow, and you are
the girl to see me do it. I want the
boys to know that I can play as good
a game here as I do away from home.
Will you be there?”
With a reluctant “Yes” Lida Butler
promised to accompany her mother,
and Line Soule went home happy.
As he retraced his steps to his
rooms several of the fellows were on
the watch for his return.
Entering his room, Binxie sat in
the lounging chair awaiting his ar-
rival. It didn’t take long for the two
to get to bed, but before sleep closed
their eyes Line had told his chum
what had taken him down town, add-
ing, “I’ll show that crowd a trick to-
morrow they won’t soon forget.”
The next day dawned bright and
clear. The air was crisp and cool,
and long before the noon hour the
little place was in holiday dress.
The midday incoming trains had
brought hundreds of strangers, many
from other school towns who were
aanxious to see the rivals clash on the
gridiron. The Singletons were the
favorites, and their black and gold
banners seemed to be without end.
The Singletons were the last to ar-
rive on the field, and as if to insult
the denizens of Fairfield they brought
with them a band from Boston. To
the tune of “The Good Old Summer
Time,” ju&t by way of a suggestion of
a former visit, they marched to the
grounds.
Amid hisses and cheers the Single-
tons and their band entered the en-
closure playing this tune. The Fair-
fields were nettled at the proceeding,
and with a deep drawn sigh of relief,
that immense throng which had filled
everj' space outside of the playing
ground, awaited the result of the con-
test.
The Singletbns were imbued with
confidence, and after a short concert
in the center of the field, during which
they surrounded the musicians and
joined in the chorus of a popular air,
they entered into preliminary prac-
tice.
Just then the Fairfields ran in upon
the lined playing space and the loyal
residents of the little town stood up
in theli seats and cheered their favor-
ites to the echo.
The blues did not care to limber up.
They had done this on the college
field, and when Capt. Soule lost the
toss and had to kick facing the sun,
the Falrfielders thought they were in
hard luck.
The Singletons started in on the ag-
gressive, and worked up the field,
yaid by yard. With every down it
was a clear gain. Their line bucking
plaj was marvelous. Not once did
Fairfield get the ball, and after ten
minutes of this sort of play, just to
make things pleasant, Fred Browne,
who was on the left end, scored a
touchdown. The cheers which greet-
ed this play were deafening, but fail-
ure in kicking for goal cooled the
ardor of Singleton’s friends.
Then came that great run which
astonished every one on the field. The
Fairfielders got possession of the ball
in their own territory, twenty yards
from the goal line, and on the snap
Binxie passed it to Line, who made
a move as if to dash around the right
end. The Singletons were looking for
this and had planned for great tack-
ling. Instead of completing a right
end play Line crossed to the left, as
if by magic, hurdling Singleton’s left
tackle and guard like so many fences
and running down the whole length
of the field, and placing the ball be-
hind his opponents’ posts for a touch-
down. It was the most remarkable
run ever seen on this football field.
The cheers were deafening. As he
dashed down the field, Line recogniz-
ed just one voice of encouragement
from the Fairfield quarter, and a3
Lida Butler waved her small blue
banner, he jumped completely over
Fred Browne and made for the goal
line. Eaton, the fullback, scored the
goal, and with the score 6 to 5 the
Singletons attemptetd to retrieve their
fortunes, but It was no use. The first
half ended 6 to 5, and in the last pe-
riod Line Soule again executed a
dashing play after breaking through
Singleton’s center. Outfooting his
rivals who failed to down him, ho
added a second touchdown to the
score. The yells from Singleton on
the kick phased little Jenkins, who
tried for goal, and with the score 11
to 5 and with three minutes to finish
the game the Fairfielders held their
opponents down, winning the great-
est game of football ever seen In the
old Massachusetts town.
And it was all due to the marvelous
iun of Line Soule, who had the en-
couragement of the girl, credited with
having been the cause of defeat dur-
ing the summer.
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Vernor, J. E. The Lampasas Daily Leader. (Lampasas, Tex.), Vol. 7, No. 2132, Ed. 1 Monday, January 23, 1911, newspaper, January 23, 1911; Lampasas, Texas. (https://texashistory.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metapth910770/m1/3/: accessed July 17, 2024), University of North Texas Libraries, The Portal to Texas History, https://texashistory.unt.edu.; crediting Lampasas Public Library.