Maid of the Mist I, c. 1900. The bridge above is the Upper Steel Arch Bridge, a suspension bridge erected in 1898 for trolleys. It spanned 1,268 feet and
stood 190 feet above the river. This bridge collapsed dramatically in 1938. The story is told in photos in the Winter 2002 issue of Heritage Magazine.
Image source: private collection.
Starting as a river ferry, the Maid of the Mist boats evolved into a tourist attraction providing paying customers with a thrilling ride
up close
to the American and
Horsehoe Falls. The earlier sidewheel and paddlewheel versions of the boat were replaced in 1885
with the Maid of the
Mist above,
70 feet long and made of white oak. The attraction proved so popular that another boat was launched
in 1892, 89 feet long
with two
steam engines. Both operated until 1955 when an accidental fire destroyed both boats
during pre-season preparation. Tthe Maid of the Mist attraction continues to the present day, carrying up to
600 passengers
per trip. The
following account
of the first trip on the above boat gives some hint of why it remains a
popular attraction.
The New Maid of the Mist Graphic Description of Her Initial Trip Close Up to the Falls About a year ago Messrs. La Blond and Carter, two enterprising citizens of Clifton, Ontario, decided that it would be a paying investment to hazard about $10,000 in a new Maid of the Mist. So they went ahead and built the boat at the foof of the steep roadway which leads down to the water's edge from the Clifton House. The keel was laid Aug. 2nd last. The plans, which have been followed, called for a boat 70 feel long, 16 feet beam, and 7 feet hold. The hull is all of white oak, and is not unlike a large tug, except that the lines are straighter. The hold is divided into three water-tight compartments. The cabin, the pilot-house, and everything above the deck are built like the upperworks of a gentleman's yacht, and are painted in white and green, with trimmings of vermillion, and a pilot house roof of blue, with a smokestack of shining black and gleaming red, with brass stair rails and gay railings, and goodness knows what, the very apotheosis of the rainblow made up into a jolly little excursion boat. And this is the Maid of the Mist. Very pretty she looked yesterday as she lay under the green Canadian bank. The boat was a-flutter with flags. The British colors floated at the stern. From the bow the American flag was raised, and a red and white pennant on the wheelhouse bore the name of the boat. To test her engines, two or three days ago the new Maid stole out from her dock at 5 o'clock in the morning and ran a little way up stream. But no regular trip over this strange route was attempted until yesterday. |
Starting place of the Maid of the Mist trip, the dock at the base of the Prospect Park incline railway. 1900. Image source: private collection.
At 2:30 she blew her whistle and cast off. There were on board Messrs. Carter and La Blond, owners and Captains; Lawrence, engineer; McCullough, sailing master; Hans Neilsen, President of the Prospect Park Association, the main who christened the boat at the launching on May 22; the Superintendent of the suspension foot bridge; Tom Young, the famous officer of the Dominion police, who shared in the capture of "Clutch" Donohue; an artist, Mr. Joseph Fleming, chief of the art department of Matthews, Northrup & Co.; Mr. D.C. Collins, of the Niagara Falls Gazette; several veteran guides and river men, and an Express representative. Such a load of official dignity might have swamped an ordinary craft; but the Maid swung out from the dock and crossed over to the American side as quietly and steadily as a dredging scow goes up the Hamburg. She did not careen as the old side-wheeled Maid used to do, and she did not loiter. It took just two and a half minutes for her to reach the new dock on the American side at the foot of the inclined railway. Then she swung out into the stream and started on the course which Capt. Webb surveyed. Many people watched her from the cliffs. Carriages and pedestrians halted on the Suspension Bridge and cheered the gay little boat as it glided down stream, 140 feet beneath them. About half a mile below the bridge, and some distance from the old Maid of the Mist landing, the boat was brought about and started up stream. The passenger is likely to experience a singular sensation at this turning point. Not many hundred feet distant, almost under the cantilever bridge, the water breaks into a great rapid and the river falls away at the crest of a cascade. The great descent of the water at this point cannot be seen or realized from above, on bridge or banks. One realizes that he has ventured in probable safety between termini of appalling possibilities. What an excursion route it is! At one end a fall into seeming oblivion; at the other end a mighty -- but we won't decribe it until we get there. |
Maid of the Mist passing close to the American Falls. 1900. Image source: private collection.
The Maid turns as if in stillest water, though the fast-passing cliffs shows that she went down stream at a speed scarcely realized. No one could think seriously of danger with so steady, stanch little craft under him. Up stream she went, easily defying the current. The green or rocky walks of Niagara, from the river, present many views of surpassing beauty. From the steamer's deck the familiar falls, framed in unfamiliar setting, took on new beauty. Beauty, however, was a second thought with the passengers. The condition of a drowned rat is not conducive to the rapturous observation of beauty. There was a strong wind down the river yesterday and the exhaustless mists of Niagara went trailing down stream in endless clouds of spray. The passengers were wrapped in oil cloth and rubber, but as the boat steamed up to the foot of the American full mists by the measureless gallon fell on them, enveloped them about and soaked into them. Even in this Turkish-bath condition the passengers found new beauty and grandeur in the view before them. From the deck of a little steamer, under the American fall, the cataract seems to come from the clouds. |
Maid of the Mist approaching the Horseshoe Falls, 2004. Image source: private collection.
| The Maid ran straight up into the Horseshoe Fall, up past Terrapin Rock, up into the foaming caldron where form and color die, and only the volume of a great sound - the tone of the grandest organ-pipe in creation - falls on the ear, while the shifting mists now hid and now reveal the looming crest of the might fall, appalling in its volume. |
Maid of the Mist penetrating the heart of the Horseshoe Falls. 2004. Image source: private collection.
"This is as far as the old Maid of the Mist ever ran," said Capt. La Blond, the spray dripping from his beard, as the boat met the foam a hundred yards or so above Terrapin Rock. On the distant banks many carriages were seen to have stopped. There were people, too, on every point of view. The whistle gave three toots of exultation. The engineer looked at his steam gauge. It registered 85 pounds, the wheel was pounding in the water, and the boat was just holding her own against the currents which boiled around her. The man at the wheel wiped the water from his eyes and rang the bell "Go Ahead." The Maid went up into the cauldron. A crest of water, more the spent force of a "boiler" than a wave, fell over the bow and there was a retreat amidships. The boat crept on. The distant banks were lost to sight. The buildings on the Canadian shore, the great precipice of Terrapin Rock - faded from sight in the oblivion of mists. The water boiling under the boat was the color of buttermilk - a river of milky foam, without surface currents, but telling of terrible forces far below. All around was the dense opaque atmosphere of mist; and before and above when the variable wind parted the veil, loomed Niagara, awful in its immensity; while almost straight above the deck of the little boat the crest of the almighty flood, now foamy white and now emerald green, seemd to roll from the very heavens. "We are further up than a boat ever ran before," said an old river guide. The whistle gave three saucy toots; Niagara roared on undaunted. |
Maid of the Mist returning to the dock, 1926. Image source: WNY Heritage
| The getting back was a momentous question. Nobody wanted to see the boat turn in that cauldron; neither did the man at the wheel want to try the experiment. The engine was stopped a few seconds, and the modest Maid stepped out of the sanctuary of Niagara into which she had been the first to penetrate. In clearer water the turn was successully made, and in less time than it takes to tell a long story all were landed at the docks safe and wet. |
Boatload of rain poncho-clad tourists setting out for their "misty" adventure. 2004. Image source: private collection
There is no other water trip in the world like this. |