The steamboat Swallow, one of the most popular and speedy boats of her time, on her way down the river, in a snow squall, from Albany, on Monday evening, April 7, 1845, met with disaster. She was under command of Captain Squires and was known as a night boat. She left Albany in the evening and reached New York the next morning. When near Athens, which is nearly opposite from the city of Hudson, she struck a rock, took fire, broke in two and rapidly sank. There is little doubt but that she was racing with the Express and Rochester. The reporter of the Hudson Rural Repository who, with characteristic enterprise, was on the spot, in his account of the disaster says:

“On Monday evening, April 7th, the steamboat Swallow, Captain A. H. Squires, was on her passage from Albany to New York, and when opposite this city, in the Athens channel, ran upon a little, rocky island, broke in two, and in a few minutes sank. The alarm was immediately spread in Athens, and a large number of citizens soon rallied to the scene of disaster, and happily succeeded in rescuing many lives. Soon after the steamboats Express and Rochester came down and promptly rendered what assistance was in their power, taking many passengers with them to New York. The Swallow had on board a large number of passengers, but the exact loss of life is at present unknown [the number lost proved to be about fifteen]. The night was exceedingly dark, with a heavy gale, snow and rain, and very cold. Our citizens are yet busy about the wreck.”

The rocks on which the Swallow was wrecked made a little island formerly known as Noah’s Brig, especially among the lumbermen, who ran rafts of logs and lumber down the river. It derived that name, according to the “History of Columbia County”, from the following incident: “One night a large number of rafts were coming down the west channel, one of them being under the command of a man who was known among his comrades by his Christian name, ‘Noah.’ As the rafts neared this point Noah espied in the dim light a dark object riding upon the waters, which he at once decided to be a brig under sail, and as soon as he had approached near enough he hailed it, ‘Brig ahoy!’ No response. Again, in stentorian tone, his hail rang out upon the night air, but still no attention was paid, and the mysterious craft kept unswervingly to its course. This exasperated Noah, and his third hail was ‘Brig ahoy! answer, or Ill run you down!’ and, as no reply was given, true to his word he did run down the island; two trees standing widely apart having deceived him as to its character. Probably neither Noah’s brig nor his raft sustained serious injury, but the poor Swallow met a more cruel fate. A large portion of the island has been taken away, and the rock material was used in constructing the embankments of the canal through the middle ground.”

The place since the eventful wreck has always been called the Swallow Rocks.

The author’s father, Ira Buckman, purchased the old wreck of the Swallow, hauled the material seven miles inland and from it built a fine two-story house at Valatia, N. Y. It is on the old Albany Post Road, is yet standing in a good state of preservation and is still known as the “Swallow House.”