An unfortunate habit of steamboats

Steamboats revolutionized travel on the waterways of south Louisiana and did wonders for the economies of the places they visited. Unfortunately, one of their biggest drawbacks was that they had a marked tendency to blow up
Lloyd’s Steamboat Directory, and Disasters on the Western Waters, written in 1856, lists more than 200 steamboat disasters in the early 1800s, mostly on the Mississippi. But south Louisiana streams had their share, and 1845 seemed to be a particularly unfortunate year for Bayou Courtableau, the waterway that led to the old port of Washington.
There was some sort of accident to the steamer Panola in January of that year. Eleven passengers put their names on a notice that appeared in the St. Landry Whig: “An accident having happened to the Panola, on her trip … to New Orleans … we the passengers on board said boat, take great pleasure in certifying to the prompt and efficient manner in which the Captain and officers discharged their respective duties. We believe the accident to have been unavoidable; and [testify] to the fidelity of the officers.”
The accident must not have been too serious. A month later the Panola made a trip from New Orleans “in about 50 hours, against a tremendous head wind up the Mississippi, and laying up one night.”
The explosion aboard the Elizabeth in April was much more tragic. The Whig reported on April 10 that the boat was at the junction of the Courtableau and the Atchafalaya at about three o’clock in the morning, when “her boilers collapsed, and completely tore her upper works to atoms.”
First mate Daniel York was killed by the explosion. Three other crewmen were never found, presumably blown overboard. Captain J. H. Gordon and first engineer James Marquise were “very badly scalded and bruised.” The passengers, all of whom were in rooms well away from the explosion, were “uninjured, except a few, who were slightly bruised.”
“The Captain was at his duty at the time of the explosion — though it took place between 2 and 3 o’clock in the morning — and had just given some orders in relation to the safety of the boat. The next thing he knew, he was rising into the air, and then fell among the ruins upon the deck, when the hot chimney fell on him, breaking two ribs and burning him dreadfully,” according to the news account.
The clerk and barkeeper were blown overboard but were able to swim to shore. “Their escape is miraculous,” the Whig claimed. “As soon as Wilson, the clerk, gained the shore, he called for a rope and made the boat fast. … The boat was discovered to be on fire. … The groans of the wounded, and the [explosion] had [unnerved] almost every soul on board. There was a Lady, however, who discovered how things stood; and calling on the men to exert themselves and save their lives, seized a bucket herself, and was the first to commence the work of extinguishing the flames!” according to the Whig.
The boat and cargo were not insured, but all was not completely lost. The captain’s desk was found floating in the bayou the next morning with about $3,000 still safe in one of its drawers.
You can contact Jim Bradshaw at jimbradshaw4321@gmail.com or P.O. Box 1121, Washington LA 70589.