Back to main file

1. Harriet Elizabeth Proctor (1819–1852), daughter of Jabez Proctor and Betsey Parker

Harriet Elizabeth Proctor was born on 2 June 1819 in Cavendish. [1] She drowned on 28 July 1852, age 33, in the burning of the steamship Henry Clay on the Hudson River and is buried in the Old Cemetery in Proctorsville. [1] She married Stoddard B. Colby on 11 February 1840 in Cavendish. [2]

Harriet’s gravestone says, “Harriet E. / Wife of Stoddard B. Colby / and daughter of Jabez and Betsy Proctor / died / July 28, 1852 / aged 33 years.”

On 1 January 1837, Harriet began a journal. Her first entry was typical of what she wrote, "Redfield [her brother] sick, attended church this afternoon, partook of the communion for the 5th time. 'Let brotherly love continue.' In this journal she records her terrible headaches, religious thoughts, visits with friends and relatives, and letters from "SBC". [3]

On 17 November 1840 M.S. Proctor wrote to his Aunt Lydia (Proctor) Powers that, “Mr. Colby is here ... Harriet has a son—about a week old and in fair health.” [4]

Proctorsville, Vt.
July 31, 1852

Friend ___:

The last sad service to the remains of my dear, dear HARRIET was attended yesterday at 2 o'clock, afternoon. It may be some days before I see you, and I will write the particulars of that fatal scene as my crushed heart will permit.

Our party, consisting of myself and wife, J.W. Ellis, wife and sister, left Albany, for N.Y. city by the steamer Henry Clay about 7, a.m., on Wednesday morning. We went upon the promenade deck for the better view of villages and scenery along the shore. We were not many miles out before I discovered the "Armenia", a rival boat, coming down behind and apparently gaining upon us. I then feared racing, but had been strongly assured at Albany, by reliable persons, as we supposed, that no racing would be allowed and I hoped it was so. But not long after, I noticed that the landings of our boat were effected with great haste, and passengers were passed off and on with dangerous rapidity. At one of our landings, the third one, I think, the Armenia passed us. Our boat was behind for some distance and only got along side the other as were were nearing Kingston - then the two boats ran side by side, at times very close, and at length the bows were in contact. A hand on the Henry Clay put out a fender against the wheel-house of the Armenia to prevent closer collision, and, in that position, we ran for some distance. The passengers were greatly disturbed, and were generally standing up on the upper decks, when some official of the boat came up and passed around them saying "there was no danger," and that they were "not racing," and urging all to step to the opposite side of the deck to ease off the boat. I then appealed to him to stop this and not run us into danger. He repeated with greater emphasis, we were "perfectly safe," "no danger," and "all would be right if he passengers stepped to the other side as he requested," - this was done and the Henry Clay went ahead. After this occurrence we concluded to leave the boat and go ashore; but the other boat did not come up with us afterward and was finally lost sight of. The circumstance quieted our fears and we felt quite secure for some hours before the fire, - in the meantime many of the passengers took dinner.

About the time we passed Yonkers, I left my wife sitting in the ladies' saloon where she had been most of the day, and went on the promenade deck where were the others, Mr. Ellis and his ladies. Within 20 minutes I think, after I went up, there was a cry and smoke forward - about the center of the boat - and at once I started to go below for my wife, and alas! she was gone!! I screamed for her, - in vain, the saloon which was filled with ladies when I left it - was empty - and the hot flames and smoke were pouring through it, in a torrent. I ran outside on the guard - there was the whole horror of a hundred deaths at once - all who had left the saloon had gone over the sides in utter panic and despair. My wife was not to be found, and it was plain that the alarm and the fire were felt in the saloon before those on the upper deck were aroused; and it now seems that many had gone overboard before the boat struck. I hoped that she might have gone forward and reached the shore. That hope prevented me from plunging into that cauldron of death. It only remained for me to get off the boat. The fire below prevented going forward from the lower deck where I then was. I went up the stairs on the promenade deck - it was then cleared of people - the fire had nearly covered it - but a space on the starboard side allowed me to pass it and to reach the shore - the last one who escaped by going forward, I think, for the fire, at that instant, enveloped the whole width of the boat. -

There was no small boat on the Henry Clay, I am sure, or if there was, it was not used, nor was it in sight. Help came after some time from some vessels in the river; two boats came but the fire allowed no near approach to the wreck. The bodies of those who went over before the boat stopped were doubtless first found. My wife was found some rods from the stern of the boat and up the stream from the boat. She must have fallen in at the first fright, as her position would have been down the stream if she fell after the boat stopped. Her seat in the saloon was next to the door, and it was but a few steps from that to the guard out of which so many rushed to perish. Her dress and person were in no way touched by the fire or heat. She seamed as if life was not gone - but all effort to restore her was made that could be, on such a shore, away from houses and accommodations. The precious spark had fled and with it, in a moment, all my earthly hopes. Could I but have been with her, and died with her, or heard her last word, it had seemed a milder fate. I had left her, at her request, to have me to go on deck and lose the views of the shores as we neared N. York. She preferred not to go up as the breeze was strong and she had some headache; besides, I think the fright in the morning really induced her to prefer the Saloon. Sure _

"There's a Divinity that shapes our ends
Rough hew them how we will"

That the managers of the boat were grossly, culpable, nay criminal, can be demonstrated, and whatever shall be the verdict of the coroner's jury, upon their conduct, I shall ever blame myself for periling that dear life in the control of such reckless men.

It was 3 o'clock when the fire took. At 8 o'clock, the Hudson R.R. Road train stopped for us and took us to the city where the officers and agents gave every attention to the sufferers in their power. At the [] I found the proprietor, Mr. Howe ready with every attention; and my friend Hon. D. A. Smalley, who was a guest, then devoted most of the night to my [] and returned with me the next day to Vermont in charge of the remains. Such kindness to all who have felt keen distress [] know how to appreciate.

It is with great difficulty that I am writing this sorrowful, heart rending narrative but suppose many of our friends will be anxious to hear more directly than through the newspapers.

Your affectionate friend [5]

Endnotes

1. “Vermont, Vital Records, 1720–1908,” database with images, Ancestry > 1870 and prior > Price–Purkins, image 1408, daughter of Jabez and Elizabeth [!].

2. “Vermont, Vital Records, 1720–1908,” Ancestry > 1870 and prior > Price–Purkins, images 1410 (April, Montpelier) and 1412 and 11414 (11 February, Cavendish).

3. Harriet Proctor's journal, transcribed by Margaret Larsen Sibert, author's copy.

4. “Revolutionary War Pension and Bounty-Land Warrant Applications,” database with images, Fold3, entry for Isaac Powers.

5. Letter from Stoddard B. Colby, dated 31 July 1852, Proctorsville, transcribed by Margaret Larsen Sibert, author's copy.

Revised December 26, 2019

© A. Buiter 2019