The Story of the

Tragedy
of the Steamer G. P. Griffith
June 17, 1850

HISTORY
We are permeated by history, as the sky is saturated with water before a rain...

HISTORY
Its passing is not often recognized, and remembering its

causes and effects

dim with the

slow journey of time.

HISTORY
The occurrences of yesteryear have an ebb and flow just as the waters of Lake Erie, receding and advancing in our memories.

It is important, then, to be an accurate chronicler of the events of today, so that later historians and storytellers will be able to relive these episodes;

so they will never be without the rich heritage of our past . . .

This story is told on the city of Willowick website, and it includes . . . a plug from some eyewitness tales your webmasters and newspaper articles Barb & Mike ! of this terrible tragedy.

Disasters and death on Lake Erie have been recorded in the newspapers for many years

and the G. P. Griffith calamity was no exception to the news media of the time.

A tragic event of Willowick, which horrified the people of the Western Reserve, was the burning of the immigrant steamer 'G. P. Griffith' in Lake Erie, off of what was known as Willoughbeach.

Lake County's role in the development of early Great Lakes commerce is noted in history by this tragedy.

This casualty occurred at four o'clock in the morning of June 17, 1850, and of the 320 passengers aboard, more than 250 people would be dead by dawn the next day !

Collisions in fog, fires, roaring storms and meeting with unchartered reefs took a large toll of sailing vessels; and the coming of steam meant no lessening in the annual tragic loss of life.

Safety regulations as we know them today were practically unknown; life-saving equipment was almost nonexistent and when disaster struck it was usually every man for himself, passengers included.

The presently accepted and practiced tradition of women and children first did not apply in the early steamer days on Lake Erie.

Events that today would quickly bring criminal neglect charges against owners and captains were accepted as the unfortunate but inevitable consequences of lake commerce.

The steamboat men were opening an era, and they had many lessons to learn.

The G. P. Griffith, a staunch wooden vessel of nearly 600 tons, had been built on the Maumee River three years before, in 1847, by David R. Stebbins, the Chief Engineer, who retained a one-eighth interest.

The Griffith was an all-wooden ship, 193 feet long and 587 tons, average for those days on the lakes. She had two high smokestacks and a wonder of an engine that furnished the driving power for her 31-foot diameter sidewheels, one on each side.

Chief Engineer Stebbins, aware that many fires had been caused by the overheating of the smokestacks or by the fact that longshoremen stupidly placed combustible freight consignments near them, had incorporated water jackets around them.

Beyond that he devised still another safety factoran air space between the water jacket and the shells of the stacks.

Like many steamers of her time, the Griffith was designed primarily for the booming immigrant trade but with plenty of room below decks for whatever freight was offered at her ports of call.

In the spring of 1850 the Griffith was sold by her original owners to Captain C.C. Roby, however, Stebbins still retained his one-eighth interest and continued on as lord and master of the engine room. Captain Roby and Stebbins got along very well and the Griffith was considered a "happy" ship.

For the better part of three years the Griffith was busy hauling immigrants and freight from Buffalo to Toledo, with stops at all the ports along the southern Lake Erie shore. The immigrants were, for the most part, quartered on deck, the first class cabins being reserved for more affluent passengers.

The crowd on this June trip was typical - 256 immigrants, a good half of them children; about 40 cabin passengers and a crew of 25.

The immigrants, most of them German with little understanding of English, would be sleeping on the open deck, among their treasured belongings, in family groups and in the company of others speaking the same language. Mothers were kept busy quieting complaining youngsters, while the men gathered in knots, exchanging views of the steamer and impressions of this impressive new country that held their hopes and futures.

Beards were common, a badge of virility among men of that day. Many of them carried their life savings in money belts concealed beneath their coarse, ill-fitting clothes. The thrifty and wise Germans, unfamiliar with the currency they might encounter on their voyage, stuck with the one form of tender they knew would be good anywhere gold.

Nearly all of the menfolk were heavily laden with the capital they would need to start life anew in America, all of it in gold coins. In contrast to the usually somber garb of their men folk, many of the women wore bright calico blouses and followed an old-world custom of stitching coins in the hems of their skirts.

Besides the Germans and a scattering of Irish and Scandinavians, there were 34 English on board traveling as a group. They were to get off at Cleveland and go on to Medina to join friends and relatives who had settled there. Two local men, Stephen Woodin, of Hambden, and Hiram Knapp, of Munson, were on the boat, and had paid their fare to Cleveland.

Early on Sunday morning, June 16, 1850, the Griffith steamed out of Buffalo harbor in splendid weather and with every prospect for a quiet and profitable trip.

Up in the pilothouse just forward of the high, double stacks, Capt. C. C. Roby looked proudly over the decks of the ship he had just purchased. It was his first trip as owner and master, and to celebrate the occasion he had brought along his wife, small daughter and mother-inlaw.

In the wee hours of the morning of the 17th the Griffith, guided by the steady and welcome beam of the Fairport lighthouse, put into that harbor to discharge a couple of first class passengers, drop off a modest freight consignment and, since facilities were available, take on a supply of fuel. The stop was brief and uneventful. Capt. Roby had retired to his cabin as soon as the lines were made fast. So had First Mate William Evens.

Engineer Stebbins took advantage of the brief stop to oil his crosshead engine, which he attended with loving care. He used experimental lubricating oil he had taken delivery on while at Buffalo.

Later tests demonstrated that this oil burned with almost explosive violence. That this was a cause of the subsequent horror was suspected but never proven.

Second Mate Sam McCoit was on duty when the Griffith left her dock, signaling to the engine room by the bell pulls as he maneuvered her out of the channel and into the night. Capt. Roby and First Mate William Evens had turned in hours before, leaving Samuel McCoit, the Second Mate, on watch. At 2:30 A.M., as soon as the Griffith had turned and steamed from her dock, Mr. Stebbins had gone to bed and to his wellearned rest, leaving the engine room in charge of Second Engineer Maxim Juno and the boilers in care of Fireman Hugh McLain.

McCoit signaled the engine room; the great paddle wheels churned the water and the Griffith moved away from the Fairport dock and headed out into the dark lake.

Lake Erie was in a gentle mood and the night was almost as warm as the day had been. McCoit set his course for Cleveland, planning to stay about two and one-half miles offshore. The thrum-thrum-thrum of the Griffith's big sidewheels lulled the immigrants, bedded down on the hurricane deck, to sleep.

Mate McCoit, after ascertaining that Wheelsman Richard Mann was following the course he directed, descended to the deck to attend to some details preparatory to making the dock at Cleveland. The proper lines, hurriedly taken in when the ship left the dock at Fairport, had to be recoiled and made ready.

He and Second Mate and deck hand Theodore Gilman went forward to the lower deck and worked quietly to avoid disturbing the tired immigrants, but many of the men among the German steerage passengers, excited at nearing their goal, were sleepless and helped with the lines as best they could. The job was simple and required no communication beyond Mr. McCoits gestures and nodding.

The ship had progressed some distance west of the Chagrin River outlet when Wheelsman Mann spotted sparks shooting up between the smokestacks and their surrounding water jackets.

Keeping his voice calm, he called to McCoit who went at once to the scene. There were showers of sparks coming up.

A couple of buckets of water proved ineffective and the sparks soon gave way to steady flames, increasing in intensity rapidly, as if under forced draft.

McCoit did what any wise officer would do under the circumstances. Without taking time to awaken and consult with Capt. Roby, he ordered the crew routed out and told Wheelsman Mann to steer directly for shore.

The night was calm and with little wind. The Griffith's speed of 10 miles per hour, however, created its own wind, enough to fan the blaze, now quite general in the midships area.

A Bucket brigade by the crew was attempting to slow the spread of the fire but met with little success.

The terrified immigrants were driven to the forward end of the ship.

Panic reigned as families were separated. Children screamed in fright and women became hysterical.

Wheelsman Mann stuck to his post, steering by the compass for there were no heartening lights ashore to guide him. Down below Chief Engineer Stebbins, aroused at the first outcry, labored to keep the Griffith's big sidewheels churning at maximum speed.

The spreading flames, however, soon put the firemen to rout and it was only a question of time before lowering steam pressure would bring the engine to a halt.

Captain Roby had desisted from ordering the lifeboats lowered, knowing they would be swamped if launched while the vessel was underway and at top speed. The fire soon made the lifeboats inaccessible even if he had later changed his mind. The shore was drawing nearer but already many of the frantic immigrants had jumped overboard. Some did not clear the thrashing sidewheels and were drawn into them and killed. Others, senselessly braving the inferno to retrieve personal treasures or belongings, were trapped and lost in the flames.

When they could no longer endure the searing heat, they jumped overboard, sometime singly, often entire families hand in hand. Hysterical with fear, many still continued to throw their trunks and luggage overboard, down upon those below, then jumped blindly into the swirling waters dotted by their fellow passengers a maelstrom of thrashing, shouting and cursing humanity.

The sea, now brilliantly illuminated by the blazing Griffith, was a dreadful panorama of chaos and despair, seething from the frantic thrashings of those who seemingly only moments before had been safely nearing the last stop on the long voyage to a new world. Some wasted their breath in hoarse shouts for help that could not come.

The Griffith's engine finally ran out of steam and the sidewheels creaked to a stop. It made little difference, however, for the ship, still plowing ahead with considerable momentum, struck on a sandbar some 200 yards offshore. Now the flames, once driven aft because of the ship's headlong motion, advanced forward with incredible speed.

There was no longer any hope or reason for staying with the stricken steamer and singly and in groups the remaining immigrants and crewmen leaped from the rails. The water was only about eight feet deep but most of them could not swim. Some who could were seized by other fear-crazed people and carried down with them.

For Wheelsman Mann, a brave lad who stuck to his post throughout the panic, it was too late.

The flames had finally surrounded the pilothouse and for him it was all over. Capt. Roby and his family were seen to jump from the ship but all were drowned and lost.

Only one woman survived the holocaust. Among the 30 to 40 who did make it to shore, and the exact number was never determined, were the mates, Mr. Evans and Mr. McCoit, and engineer Stebbins.

The Griffith, meanwhile, had swung broadside to the beach and continued to burn furiously.

At the first gray light of dawn all that remained above water was the tall smokestacks and the upper portions of the 31-foot side wheels.

The glare of the burning ship had been visible as far away as Willoughby and as the warm sun came up many of the town's residents had been attracted to the scene. They were joined by many farmers from the immediate area, most of them arriving in wagons or buggies. They were too late to be of help but were drawn by that very human element of morbid curiosity born of disaster.

What they found were the utterly exhausted survivors scattered along the dry sand, while in the gentle surf and placid waters offshore bobbed scores of bodies, charred timbers and the scorched trunks of immigrants who would no longer have need for their contents.

Some of the spectators helped retrieve bodies from the surf and beach. Others, in small boats, rowed out to the wreck where they found dozens more, visible on the bottom in the clear water around the sandbar.

But identification, except for crewmen known by the surviving ship's officers, was, under the circumstances, almost impossible.

Residents of the adjacent shore side areas, because the weather turned out to be extremely hot for the month of June, were confronted with the problem of what to do with the bodies. A self-constituted committee of the most prominent citizens decided that burial on the spot was the sensible answer. Consequently, on a knoll then some distance from the shore, a mass grave was dug.

In the grave were the bodies of 24 women, 47 men and 25 children. No accurate total of those lost was possible because several Cleveland-based vessels that had hurried to the scene took many victims back to that city. Various published death tolls vary from 212 to as high as 300. In any event it was Lake Eries worst disaster.

In Cleveland the large German colony was enraged by the mass grave decision and what they termed the cavalier manner in which the dead had been interred. There were many rumors current, most of them involving hearsay stories of looting.

It was common knowledge that the heads of the immigrant families carried all their gold in money belts. Had the gold-laden belts, as rumor would have it, been taken from the bodies and not reported to the proper authorities?

Or, as some believed, had the immigrants found the belts a serious handicap while trying to swim for their lives and cast them free?

If the latter is true then the site of the Griffith wreck might still yield some gold although it would be buried under many feet of sand by now.

The yearly erosion of the shoreline gradually destroyed the site of the mass grave, once well back from the angry rollers. The site was apparently unmarked and later the property became the home of an amusement park, thriving for years.

Known as Willoughbeach Park, it was a popular place for family picnics and a busy stop on the interurban line.

Few if any of the fun seekers knew that some of the park's picnic tables were immediately over the grave where lay the remains of nearly 200 Lake Erie victims.

Few if any of the fun seekers knew that some of the park's picnic tables were immediately over the grave where lay the remains of nearly 200 Lake Erie victims.

Few if any of the fun seekers knew that some of the park's picnic tables were immediately over the grave where lay the remains of nearly 200 Lake Erie victims.

The location is almost directly opposite what is now the Shoregate Shopping Center.

The Streets of neat homes have long since taken over the park site and the lake's yearly battering of the shoreline has long since claimed the grave itself.

Even today, after storms, residents by the shore are accustomed to finding rusty old spikes and an occasional bit of ironwork along the beach.

Many assume they are from the wreck of the Griffith, and this is quite possible.

But there are many old wrecks on the shallow bottom, shredded by the shifting ice fields in winter and scattered by the wave action of 150 years of Lake Erie gales.

And the remains of one ship look very much like those of another.

The exact cause of the fire aboard the Griffith was never pinpointed, although the finger of suspicion was pointed at the new oil Chief Engineer Stebbins was experimenting with, which had a very low "flash point" and burned with an intense force.

It could be that after Mr. Stebbins retired, an assistant was too liberal with the new oil and some of it could have found its way to a point where heat from the boilers or an errant spark from the grates ignited it. The fire, however, unknowingly spread upward and the chief and some of his gang were able to remain at their posts for some time. The flames would naturally have followed the draft provided by the air space between the water jackets and the smokestacks themselves, the immediate effect being felt first in the main deck passenger cabins.

With the occupants asleep it could have gained considerable headway even before Wheelsman Mann noticed the sparks and the few buckets of water mate McCoit sloshed down the opening could hardly quench what must have been a serious blaze. Mr. McCoit later stated that his action in routing out the crew and organizing a bucket brigade had been totally ineffective.

It was customary, in the early days of steam on the lakes, to salvage the engines of burned or wrecked ships if they lay in shallow water. A good engine represented a good portion of the investment in a vessel and some engines outlived two or three wooden hulls. Here again the fate of the Griffith's engine is unknown. Such salvaging operations were usually the grist for the marine columns, but there is no record of what became of the Griffith's engine or boilers.

Many lake tragedies have been thoroughly documented but the details of the Griffith disaster are woefully vague. Only a handful of people survived and they could shed little light on the cause...only on what happened afterward.

Captain Charles C. Roby, his daughter, wife and mother-in-law, all died. Chief Engineer David R. Stebbins, survived. First Mate William Evens, survived. Second Mate Sam McCoit, survived. Wheelsman Richard Mann, brave lad and able seaman from Sandusky, died. Headwaiter John Chichester, survived. Dr. William Maronchy, going to Erie, Pennsylvania, survived. Stephen Woodin, from Hamden, Ohio, survived. Hiram Knapp, from Munson, Ohio, survived. Henry Wilkinson, ship clerk, survived. Robert Hall, from England, survived, but his mother, his wife Sophia, two sons, two daughters, two brothers and two sisters, died. Henry Priday, from Cambridgeshire, England, survived, but his wife Elizabeth, 18 year old daughter Kate, and eight relatives died. Franz Hugel, from Baden, Germany, died. The Bohling family, nine in all, died.
Pierce Hill, from Ireland, survived, but his wife and daughter died.

Joseph Wildes, from England, survived. First Porter Lawrence Dana, died. Barkeeper William Tillman, died. Second Engineer Maxim Juno, died. Fireman Hugh McLain, died. Second Mate and deck hand Theodore Gilman, died. Wheelsman Robert Davis, survived. Headwaiter John Chichester, survived. William Hooper, died. John Ham Northy, from Devon, died. Louisa Taylor, from Cambridgeshire, England, died. Franklin Heth, survived, but his wife, Clarissa, and two children, Francis and Helen, died. Cabin Maid Christine Hood, died.

Johnny Rhodes, age 5, survived, but his father, mother, brother and sister, died. William Waters, from Cambridgeshire, England, survived, but his entire family died. Joseph Money, from England, survived, but his father, mother and two sisters, died. the William Walker family, all died. the William Taylor family, all died. Lydia and Albert Humpidge, from England, died. German, English, Irish and Scandinavian immigrants, unidentifieda German woman, age about thirty; an English woman, age about twentyseven; Irish boy, age fifteen; a Frenchman, age thirty; child, age one-half years; Englishman, twenty-five years; American lady, age twenty; German man, age thirty; English girl, age sixteen; English woman, age thirty; German man, very large about thirty-five; English girl, age eight; American lady, twenty-five to thirty years; German girl, eighteen years; two flaxenhaired girls, six and eight, supposed to be sisters, died.

REFERENCES

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