S.S. Mississippi, Atlantic Transport Line Steamship (U.S.A.T. Buford)

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S.S. Mississippi (I)

Tonnage: 3,732, Length: 370.8’, Beam: 44.2, Builder: Harland and Wolff, Belfast, Launch Date: August 29, 1890, Maiden Voyage: January 9, 1891, Destruction: Scrapped in Japan, 1929, Operated by A.T.L.: 1890-98, AKA: U.S.A.T. Buford, Notes: Official Number: 98173, steel single screw, 4 masts schooner; 2 decks; 3 tiers of beams; 7 cemented bulkheads; fitted with electric light; cellular double bottom 312 feet, 718 tons; forward peak tank 44 tons; aft peak tank 50 tons. Tonnage: 3,732 tons gross, 3,473 under deck and 2,388 net. Holds 26.6 feet deep; poop 78 feet; bridge 116 feet; forecastle 40 feet. Triple expansion engine with 3 cylinders of 25 1/2", 42", and 70" diameter respectively; stroke 51"; 375 horsepower; 2 double-ended boilers; 12 ribbed furnaces; grate surface 192 sq. ft.; heating surface 6,162 sq. ft.; engine by the builders. Port of registry: London. Speed 11 knots. Sisters: Michigan.

Mississippi was built for the Atlantic Transport Line as passenger cargo vessel with four masts. Her first voyage from London to New York commenced January 9, 1891. In September 1891 the New York Times reported that this ship was one of the four vessels "most likely to be placed on the new line" (service) then being organized by the company from New York. She is recorded in the Morton Allan Directory of European Passenger Steamship Arrivals making 44 voyages to New York for the A.T.L. passenger service between August 1892 and December 1897. Her master was listed by Lloyd's Register in 1894 as Thomas F. Gates. The port of registry for Mississippi is given by Lloyds Register as London, with the Atlantic Transport Line her owners and Williams, Torrey & Feild Ltd. her managers. An article in the New York Times records that her consumption of coal was 35 tons per day.

In September 1894 Mississippi, under the command of Captain McNeally, rescued the nine man crew of the sinking Norwegian bark Hakon Jarl (built 1866, 491 tons). And sailing from London under Captain Gates in November 1895 Mississippi encountered a severe storm and was slowed down so much that she had to put into Halifax for coal. She had on board a "large consignment of animals from Barnum & Bailey's Circus," and one lady passenger, all of whom proved to be remarkably good sailors. The animal's cages were padded with matting and hay to protect them as the ship rolled in the storm. An old sailor named Rayfield, traveling as a passenger, was almost swept overboard by a huge wave. He was on the bridge when the wave struck and carried away two lifeboats and the bridge railing. Rayfield himself was swept forward and over the port bow, but incredibly his foot got stuck in the railing and he dangled there upside-down, barely conscious, until rescued. He needed several stitches in a head wound but survived.

In 1895 the New York Times described the loading of a stable of 21 race horses in care of their trainer, Hardy Campbell, onto Mississippi:

Stonell was the first of the famous flyers to ascend the gangplank, and the chestnut son of Stonehenge went aboard without lifting his nose at the somewhat exciting ordeal. Don Alonzo who followed, reared and plunged, and stubbornly refused to walk the plank until Hardy Campbell resorted to strategy, holding a wisp of timothy just in front of his nose, when the big horse suddenly forgot his antics and went aboard with the quiet contentment of an old salt.

Banquet, the game resolute old hero of half a dozen campaigns, showed fight for a moment but finally walked up the gangplank, and once aboard, took to his strange surroundings with the good grace of a true philosopher. Dobbins was the honest, good-natured horse he always is under all circumstances, and gave his trainer and grooms not a particle of trouble. Utica simply "raised Cain." He struck out with his forefeet and his heels simultaneously, bolted and bucked, and finally baulked outright when half way up the plank, refusing to go up or down. An overcoat was at last thrown over his head, when he was successfully baked off onto the dock, walked around in a circle a few time so as to confuse him, and started on a run for the plank. This smart bit of strategy worked to perfection, and before he knew what he was doing Utica, like Don Alonzo, had been tricked aboard ship for his transatlantic voyage.

The two-year-olds, strangely enough, gave no trouble at all, and in a few minutes served to stow them away in their new quarters.

These horses were provided with "luxurious quarters" on the main deck amidships, in the best part of the ship for light and ventilation. Each horse was provided with a double stall, fitted so it could be quickly converted into a narrow single stall in rough weather to prevent the horse from stumbling and hurting itself. The sides of these stalls were padded with rough mattresses of burlap stuffed with straw, and six inches of fresh peat moss was spread upon the floor.

On May 27, 1897 Mississippi collided with, and damaged, the Thingvalla Line ship Hekla in fog off the Newfoundland Banks. She was carrying 45 crew, 6 passengers, and 12 cattlemen at the time. The impact opened her plates for a length of about 12 feet, extending up and down about 6 feet, and penetrating several feet into the hull. Rails, fittings, and the wheel house were swept away. Part of Hekla's bow sheared off and became tangled in the wreckage, and Hekla's "kedge anchor and a coil of steel cable about 200 feet long were also left in the Mississippi’s wound.” Fortunately Hekla struck the port quarter, and all damage occurred well above the waterline. Had the impact occurred a few feet forward the consequences would have been severe.

In September 1897 Mississippi, under the command of E. G. Cannons, was briefly stranded. Reporting the incident, the New York Times noted that "to avoid collision with a small coal schooner, the Atlantic Transport Line steamship Mississippi, bound in from London, ran her nose into the mud south of Fort Wadsworth." With half of her length in the mud, efforts to haul her off proved unsuccessful, and with ten feet of water in her hold part of her cargo had to be lightered. Mississippi was by this time the smallest vessel in the Atlantic Transport Line fleet, and the only one remaining with a single screw. The first officer of Mississippi at this time was Llewelyn Crouch, who lost his life as chief officer of the Mohegan in 1898. A group of items belonging to Crouch was auctioned in Plymouth, England, in 1990. Chief among them was a painting of the Mississippi by the celebrated marine artist Antonio Jacobsen.

Left: This portrait of Mississippi by Antonio Jacobsen may well have been the very one that belonged to First Officer Llewellyn Crouch. (Hyland Granby Antiques) Right: A tinted photo postcard of U.S.A.T. Buford after her major refit of c.1900 that changed her masts from four to two much taller spars. (Kinghorn). Click images for larger views.

In 1898 Mississippi was transferred to the subsidiary National Line, but continued on the London to New York service. Mississippi sailed on her last voyage on this route on June 14, 1898. She had by then been purchased by the U.S. government for use as a transport in the war with Spain. She was given the number 25, “in accordance with the policy adopted of changing the names of foreign vessels to designated numbers after they come into the possession of the United States.” She was soon however renamed as the U.S. Army Transport ship Buford (ID # 3818).

In 1900, after her service in the Spanish American war Buford was refitted at Newport News, Virginia, and emerged with two tall masts and other changes. Her captain, K. G. Martens, was tried by court martial in May of 1902 and found guilty of "cruelty, profanity, and neglect of his log." Third Officer K. Grauman was dismissed from the service, and First Engineer William Morhoff was transferred to the Grant. Captain A. C. Kroskey and First Engineer R. S. Johnson of the Grant were as a result transferred to Buford. In December of 1905 another captain of the Buford, Alga P. Berry, was tried by court martial. This commander was found guilty of "being intoxicated while in command of the Buford, of gambling when in command of a transport, and of violating a pledge not to drink intoxicating liquors." Berry committed suicide by shooting himself through the heart the day after an order for his dismissal from the service arrived.

Two photos of U.S.A.T. Buford after the refit of c.1900 that changed her masts from four to two much taller spars. From the collection of the Naval History and Heritage Command. Click images for larger views.

It was reported in the New York Times when Buford returned from the Philippines in January 1908 "that during the trip trouble was caused on the vessel by an order that marines, bluejackets, and sailors alike comply with an army regulation which requires an inspection of the men for personal cleanliness every two weeks." On this voyage she was carrying passengers in addition to the returning troops. Buford was at the pier in San Francisco at the time of the 1906 earthquake. She was taken from the pier into the harbor to avoid the resultant fire and was one of three transports used in the harbor as temporary storehouses for the supplies coming into the city by sea in the weeks following the disaster.

In April 1912 the President approved the suggestion that an army transport be sent to the West Coast of Mexico to bring away Americans who might desire to leave on account of unsettled conditions there and sent Buford south. In early May Buford was ordered to take on board also any British or Spanish refugees she might encounter. But according to the New York Times, Buford was sent "more for the moral effect than for any actual necessity now existing," and another report noted that although the President was arguing vigorously that Americans were in great danger and desperate to get out of the country, the ship actually failed "to find any willing to leave."

January 1919 saw her transferred to the Navy as U.S.S. Buford (ID # 3818) and in that service she made four trips to France and brought home more than 4,700 troops. Buford shipped personnel and cargo between the U.S. and the Panama Canal in August 1919 before being decommissioned early in September and returned to the Army.

Photos of U.S.A.T. Buford as "the ship that brought us home," presumably taken in 1919 (Naval History and Heritage Command) and off New York at the time of the Red Scare the following year (Library of Congress). Click images for larger views.

Buford participated in the forced deportation of suspected communists during the first Red Scare of 1919-20. Responding to a series of strikes and bomb plots a series of immigration, anti-anarchist, and sedition laws were passed and widely exercised as a means to remove undesirable elements from the country. Dubbed "the Soviet Ark," in 1920 Buford carried 249 "undesirable aliens" to Hango in Finland, from where they were marched to a sealed train that carried them to the Russian frontier. The deportees were not given any opportunity to collect their belongings or deal with their affairs, and their names were not made public by the Bureau of Immigration until after Buford had sailed. One of the deportees, Alexander Berkman, published his account of the voyage (The Bolshevik Myth, New York: Boni and Liveright, 1925), from which the following excerpts are taken:

December 24. - The Buford is an old boat built in 1885. She was used as a military transport during the Philippine War, and is not seaworthy any more. We ship sea constantly, and it pours through the hatches. Two inches of water cover the floor; our things are wet, and there is no steam heat.

December 25. - The military force of the Buford is in command of a Colonel of the United States Army, tall and severe-looking, about fifty. In his charge are a number of officers and a very considerable body of soldiers, most of them of the regular army. Direct supervision over the deportees is given to the representative of the Federal Government, Mr. Berkshire, who is here with a number of Secret Service men. The Captain of the Buford takes his orders from the Colonel, who is the supreme authority on board.

January 2, 1920. - In Biscay Bay. Rolling badly. The sailors say last night's storm threw us out of our course. Some ship, apparently Japanese, was signaling for help. We ourselves were in such a plight that we could not aid.

…At noon the Captain sent for me. The Buford is not a modern ship — he spoke guardedly and we are in difficult waters. Bad time of the year, too; storm season. No particular danger, but it is always well to be prepared. He would assign twelve lifeboats in my charge, and I should instruct the men what to do should the contingency arise.

January 13. - We got under way again at 1:40 P. M. Making for the Baltic. I wonder how this leaky boat will navigate the North Sea and fight the ice there. The boys, including the soldiers, are very nervous: we are on a dangerous road, full of war mines.

In 1921 Buford rescued the forty or fifty man crew of the recently built 5,800 ton Japanese steel freighter Tokyo Maru, which was on fire and sinking in the North Pacific.

A still from the Navigator, and a photograph of Buster Keaton posing with Captain Johnny O'Brien
during filming on board Buford (Courtesy of Puget Sound Maritime Historical Society)

Two years later in 1923 Buford was sold to John C. Ogden and Fred Linderman of San Francisco, proprietors of the Alaskan Siberian Navigation Company. When Buster keaton's Technical Director Fred Gabourie was in the area scouting for ships which could be converted into Elizabethan galleons for another project (The Sea Hawk) he spotted retired Buford and sensed an opportunity. On his own initiative Keaton leased the old ship from the Alaskan Siberian Navigation Company for $25,000 and engaged a team of writers to create a screenplay around her. The resulting movie, The Navigator, was released in 1924 and proved to be Keaton's most successful project in financial terms and one of his personal favorites. It was shot in Avalon Bay off the coast of Catalina Island in the space of just ten weeks. It was announced in the New York Times in February of 1929 that Buford had been sold by the Alaskan Siberian Navigation Company to "Japanese interests" and "is to be consigned to the junk heap." Buford was finally scrapped in Japan in 1929.

Sources:

The Ships List
Gilbert Provost's Register of Ships
Passenger Ships of the World Past and Present, Eugene W. Smith, Massachusetts, 1977
www.history.navy.mil
Merchant Fleets in Profile 2; the Ships of the Cunard, American, Red Star, Inman, Leyland, Dominion, Atlantic Transport and White Star Lines, Duncan Haws, 1979
The New York Times, September 4, 1891; September 18, 1894; November 25, 1895; June 2, 1897; September 15, 1897, June 25, 1898; May 31, 1902; December 1, 1905; January 18, 1908; April 27, 1912; May 9, 1912; January 18, 1920; May 3, 1921; February 25, 1929

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