Wreck of the Lac La Belle
By James Donahue
Ed Carney, first mate on the Engleman Line steamship Lac La Belle, was clearly worried when he woke Capt. W. H. Thompson. “Captain, we’ve got troubles,” Carney announced. “The boat’s leaking and the pumps can’t keep her free. It looks bad.”
Thompson glanced at his pocket watch as he hurriedly dressed in the dim light of Carney’s lamp. It was 12:15 a.m. on Monday, October 14, 1872. The steamer left Milwaukee at 9:30 p.m. the night before, bound for Grand Haven, Michigan. Now, some 30 miles out on Lake Michigan, a gale was blowing and the rolling vessel was taking seas off the port stern.
Even though he had been awakened from a sound sleep, Thompson’s mind was already racing. He sent Carney back to the bridge with orders to turn the ship around for a run back to Milwaukee. He knew it would take more than thee hours to make the trip against the wind so he wanted no time wasted.
Thompson desperately needed to know the source and seriousness of the problem and do whatever possible to save his command. He woke Chief Engineer L. Bennsil and the two men raced below to learn what they could.
They never found the source of the leak, however. As they worked their way into the bowels of the boat, the two men were stopped by a wave of water breaking through a forward bulkhead. They retreated to the engine room.
“I then went and looked in the fire hold and found the water was ten inches over the floor, rapidly increasing and gaining on the pumps,” he later recalled. Thompson knew then that his ship was doomed. He returned to the deck and met Ned Dowe, company agent, who was gathered among a few excited passengers. “We have got to lose this boat,” the captain told Dowe.
But even knowing this, Thompson was bound to put up a fight. He did all he could that night to save the Lac La Belle and the 52 other people on its decks. He sounded a general alarm, ordered everybody out of bed and asked the male passengers to help the crew threw cargo overboard to lighten the ship.
The steam pumps were running and Thompson assigned two men to also operate bilge pumps. Down in the fire hold the black gang dipped water with buckets in a gallant effort to keep the fires burning as long as possible.
The rising water, however, soon covered the coal bunkers and the wet coal began cooling the fires. The ship was losing the steam power it needed to keep both pumps operating and the engines running.
“We found some barrels of pork and lard in the cargo,” Thompson said. “I ordered the heads knocked in and the contents thrown in the furnace to get an increase of steam.” After that the crew began breaking up furniture and tearing the ship apart for dry wood to burn.
Everybody worked frantically, only to have their hopes of reaching shore shattered at about 4 a.m. when the water rose over the dead lights, and one of them collapsed under the pressure. Thompson said the water now poured into the ship with such force it could not be stopped. “We tried to plug it (the broken window) by stuffing blankets and quilts and nailing on boards, but had no success. The water was up to the bottom grates (of the engine room boiler fires) and the firemen gave up. They said the vessel must sink.”
The fires went out sometime before 5 a.m. The steam pumps stopped working, the engine came to a stop and the ship became a sinking, drifting wreck. Thompson saw that the main deck was about level with the lake and ordered the crew to launch the life boats.
Dowe told of an ugly incident amidships with some of the engine room crew. “The first boat, intended for the ladies and other passengers, was taken possession of by an engine greaser who, armed with a carving knife, kept everybody out but his companion greasers.” Rather than fight the men, Dowe said he let them have the boat but talked them into to taking some of the passengers. They agreed and the boat was launched.
Five boats were put in the water and almost everybody away on them before the steamer sank. Dowe said Thompson had to be forced to get into the last boat. The captain was trying to persuade the last handful of passengers to leave the sinking ship with him. “They seemed panic stricken. We used force and succeeded in getting some of the women and children into the boats but we could not move the men.”
Dowe, who helped direct the launching of the boats, said they could not persuade five or six men that they must leave the steamer or perish. “There were about half a dozen persons on board the sinking steamer who refused to trust themselves in small boats. One of them was S. Wiener (a Milwaukee businessman). He was last seen on the promenade deck in the bow of the boat. Another was second cook (Henry Sparks), who stood in the forward gangway. There were also one or two persons on the promenade deck. I saw nothing of them after the steamer sank.”
One unidentified survivor described Captain Thompson’s actions as heroic. He told the Milwaukee Sentinel that Thompson nearly gave his own life to save those last passengers. He said the last boat, a small metal craft, was launched but it stood by the side of the wreck waiting as Thompson tried to talk those last hold-outs to get in it with him.
“At this time the ship’s main deck was a food under water and sinking very rapidly. Mr. Bernard hailed the captain and told him if he wanted to be saved to get immediately into the boat as the ship would sink in a moment. Captain Thompson was up on the promenade deck and got down in the launch by a rope. And with the greatest difficulty the little boat shoved from the side of the sinking ship. We had got barely 10 feet when the beautiful propeller went to the bottom.”
The story teller said Chief Engineer Bernard yelled to the men to get from the main deck up to the promenade deck. Bernard was an experienced sailor and knew the wooden upper superstructure might break away and float off when the ship sank, giving those last hold-outs a temporary raft. “They did so and as the ship was going down three men were seen to jump overboard,” he said.
Bernard said he saw four men in the water, one of them clinging to a timber. But they didn’t have a chance. “We couldn’t give them any assistance without danger of swamping our boat,” he said.
The Lac La Belle went down stern forward a few minutes after we left,” said Dowe. “She appeared to break in two near the pipes, throwing the engine out, and lifting the cabin into the air with such force as to shatter it into kindling wood. The last object we saw of the wreck was the figure of the Goddess of Liberty, with a small national ensign in her hand, which was mounted on the pilothouse. The figure was floating in an erect position with the flag fluttering in the wind.”
The life boats all got safely ashore, or were picked up by passing vessels by midday. One man was pulled from the water after clinging to a board for several hours. News of the disaster reached shore with the life boats.
The first boat with 11 survivors came ashore at Racine, Wisconsin. Later in the day a second boat came ashore near Racine, and the captain’s metal boat arrived near Kenosha. The schooner Floretta picked up a boat load of people off Waukegan and the last life boat arrived safely at Calumet, Illinois the next morning.
The dead were identified in various newspaper stories. In addition to Wiener and Sparks, they included H. Freeman, N. W. Gilbert, P. Wyent, R. H. Lippincott, W. Smith Dunning and one unidentified deck hand. In all, eight people perished.
The steamer was a wooden ship built in 1864. It was not the newest or fanciest boat plying the Great Lakes in 1872 but it was a faithful visitor between Milwaukee and Grand Haven.
The Lac La Belle was a large vessel for its time, measuring two hundred and seventeen feet from stem to stern. Some said it was popular with passengers who enjoyed the convenience of a regular passage between the two cities.
In addition to the 21 passengers, the boat was carrying about five hundred tons of freight, all marked for delivery at Grand Haven stores.
By James Donahue
Ed Carney, first mate on the Engleman Line steamship Lac La Belle, was clearly worried when he woke Capt. W. H. Thompson. “Captain, we’ve got troubles,” Carney announced. “The boat’s leaking and the pumps can’t keep her free. It looks bad.”
Thompson glanced at his pocket watch as he hurriedly dressed in the dim light of Carney’s lamp. It was 12:15 a.m. on Monday, October 14, 1872. The steamer left Milwaukee at 9:30 p.m. the night before, bound for Grand Haven, Michigan. Now, some 30 miles out on Lake Michigan, a gale was blowing and the rolling vessel was taking seas off the port stern.
Even though he had been awakened from a sound sleep, Thompson’s mind was already racing. He sent Carney back to the bridge with orders to turn the ship around for a run back to Milwaukee. He knew it would take more than thee hours to make the trip against the wind so he wanted no time wasted.
Thompson desperately needed to know the source and seriousness of the problem and do whatever possible to save his command. He woke Chief Engineer L. Bennsil and the two men raced below to learn what they could.
They never found the source of the leak, however. As they worked their way into the bowels of the boat, the two men were stopped by a wave of water breaking through a forward bulkhead. They retreated to the engine room.
“I then went and looked in the fire hold and found the water was ten inches over the floor, rapidly increasing and gaining on the pumps,” he later recalled. Thompson knew then that his ship was doomed. He returned to the deck and met Ned Dowe, company agent, who was gathered among a few excited passengers. “We have got to lose this boat,” the captain told Dowe.
But even knowing this, Thompson was bound to put up a fight. He did all he could that night to save the Lac La Belle and the 52 other people on its decks. He sounded a general alarm, ordered everybody out of bed and asked the male passengers to help the crew threw cargo overboard to lighten the ship.
The steam pumps were running and Thompson assigned two men to also operate bilge pumps. Down in the fire hold the black gang dipped water with buckets in a gallant effort to keep the fires burning as long as possible.
The rising water, however, soon covered the coal bunkers and the wet coal began cooling the fires. The ship was losing the steam power it needed to keep both pumps operating and the engines running.
“We found some barrels of pork and lard in the cargo,” Thompson said. “I ordered the heads knocked in and the contents thrown in the furnace to get an increase of steam.” After that the crew began breaking up furniture and tearing the ship apart for dry wood to burn.
Everybody worked frantically, only to have their hopes of reaching shore shattered at about 4 a.m. when the water rose over the dead lights, and one of them collapsed under the pressure. Thompson said the water now poured into the ship with such force it could not be stopped. “We tried to plug it (the broken window) by stuffing blankets and quilts and nailing on boards, but had no success. The water was up to the bottom grates (of the engine room boiler fires) and the firemen gave up. They said the vessel must sink.”
The fires went out sometime before 5 a.m. The steam pumps stopped working, the engine came to a stop and the ship became a sinking, drifting wreck. Thompson saw that the main deck was about level with the lake and ordered the crew to launch the life boats.
Dowe told of an ugly incident amidships with some of the engine room crew. “The first boat, intended for the ladies and other passengers, was taken possession of by an engine greaser who, armed with a carving knife, kept everybody out but his companion greasers.” Rather than fight the men, Dowe said he let them have the boat but talked them into to taking some of the passengers. They agreed and the boat was launched.
Five boats were put in the water and almost everybody away on them before the steamer sank. Dowe said Thompson had to be forced to get into the last boat. The captain was trying to persuade the last handful of passengers to leave the sinking ship with him. “They seemed panic stricken. We used force and succeeded in getting some of the women and children into the boats but we could not move the men.”
Dowe, who helped direct the launching of the boats, said they could not persuade five or six men that they must leave the steamer or perish. “There were about half a dozen persons on board the sinking steamer who refused to trust themselves in small boats. One of them was S. Wiener (a Milwaukee businessman). He was last seen on the promenade deck in the bow of the boat. Another was second cook (Henry Sparks), who stood in the forward gangway. There were also one or two persons on the promenade deck. I saw nothing of them after the steamer sank.”
One unidentified survivor described Captain Thompson’s actions as heroic. He told the Milwaukee Sentinel that Thompson nearly gave his own life to save those last passengers. He said the last boat, a small metal craft, was launched but it stood by the side of the wreck waiting as Thompson tried to talk those last hold-outs to get in it with him.
“At this time the ship’s main deck was a food under water and sinking very rapidly. Mr. Bernard hailed the captain and told him if he wanted to be saved to get immediately into the boat as the ship would sink in a moment. Captain Thompson was up on the promenade deck and got down in the launch by a rope. And with the greatest difficulty the little boat shoved from the side of the sinking ship. We had got barely 10 feet when the beautiful propeller went to the bottom.”
The story teller said Chief Engineer Bernard yelled to the men to get from the main deck up to the promenade deck. Bernard was an experienced sailor and knew the wooden upper superstructure might break away and float off when the ship sank, giving those last hold-outs a temporary raft. “They did so and as the ship was going down three men were seen to jump overboard,” he said.
Bernard said he saw four men in the water, one of them clinging to a timber. But they didn’t have a chance. “We couldn’t give them any assistance without danger of swamping our boat,” he said.
The Lac La Belle went down stern forward a few minutes after we left,” said Dowe. “She appeared to break in two near the pipes, throwing the engine out, and lifting the cabin into the air with such force as to shatter it into kindling wood. The last object we saw of the wreck was the figure of the Goddess of Liberty, with a small national ensign in her hand, which was mounted on the pilothouse. The figure was floating in an erect position with the flag fluttering in the wind.”
The life boats all got safely ashore, or were picked up by passing vessels by midday. One man was pulled from the water after clinging to a board for several hours. News of the disaster reached shore with the life boats.
The first boat with 11 survivors came ashore at Racine, Wisconsin. Later in the day a second boat came ashore near Racine, and the captain’s metal boat arrived near Kenosha. The schooner Floretta picked up a boat load of people off Waukegan and the last life boat arrived safely at Calumet, Illinois the next morning.
The dead were identified in various newspaper stories. In addition to Wiener and Sparks, they included H. Freeman, N. W. Gilbert, P. Wyent, R. H. Lippincott, W. Smith Dunning and one unidentified deck hand. In all, eight people perished.
The steamer was a wooden ship built in 1864. It was not the newest or fanciest boat plying the Great Lakes in 1872 but it was a faithful visitor between Milwaukee and Grand Haven.
The Lac La Belle was a large vessel for its time, measuring two hundred and seventeen feet from stem to stern. Some said it was popular with passengers who enjoyed the convenience of a regular passage between the two cities.
In addition to the 21 passengers, the boat was carrying about five hundred tons of freight, all marked for delivery at Grand Haven stores.