Captain Alonzo Garrason

04 Jul

— Capt. Alonzo Garrison, late of the Steamer Robert E. Lee, has been transferred to the command of the D. Murchison, vice Capt. T. J. Green, resigned.  Capt. Green goes to Fayetteville to superintend the building of two steamers for the Company recently organized.  Capt. Wm. Skinner succeeds Capt. Garrison in command of the Lee.

[Wilmington Star – December 19, 1869]

Boats and Navigation on the

Cape Fear River.


Our river transportation is becoming more active and extensive.  This, with the continued large production of Naval Stores, and the very large increase in cotton farming, shows plainly that the substantial business of this section is improving.  The Cape Fear Navigation Company now reorganized is to open out the river, and keep it in better navigable order.

There are now two new boats building, another in contemplation, three lines of steamers, and three other separate boats, as follows:  The Cape Fear Steamboat Company have two boats, the Hurt, run by Capt. Sam. W. Skinner, and the Gov. Worth, run by Capt. A. P. Hurt.  The Hurt makes two trips to Wilmington a week and the Gov Worth about three trips in two weeks—both excellent boats for passengers and freight.  This company embraces the Messrs. Worth, Lilly, Hurt and others.

The Express Steam boat Company have two boats, each making two trips a week, the R. E. Lee, run by Capt. Wm. Skinner, and the D. Murchison run by Capt. A. Garrison.  Both are new and fast going steamers and do a large business.  This company embraces Messrs. Williams, Murchison, Lutterloh, &c., we believe.  The Peoples’ Line is a new company recently organized embracing F. W. Kerchner, Adrian & Vollers, Smith & Strauss, W. A. Whitehead & Co.  Capt. T. J. Green and others, as we learn.  This company has the Marion run by Capt. Phillips, and which was formerly owned by the Messrs Mallet, Capt. T. J. Green, formerly of the R. E. Lee, is superintending the business of the company, and they are building a new boat at Fayetteville, which is expected to be in use by May next.  The capacity of this new steamer will be about 700 bbls. and 36 passengers, and will be some larger than the Hurt.

The People’s Line Company (capital of $25,000) expect to build another boat during the year perhaps, and with the three, they may accept mail contract and also connect with the Rail Road, both ways, three times a week.

The Juniper also a light new boat is run by Capt. A. Worth, but not on regular schedule.  This boat is owned and used by the Messrs. Bullard, Willard Bros. & c., and some week or two ago went up to Averasboro during a freshet, and received there a heavy load of naval stores, and could not return until the freshet yesterday.  The Halcyon has been repaired and is again on her regular trips, run by Capt R M Orrell.  There has been some proposition by the People’s Line to purchase this steamer.  The Orrell, a light boat is in damaged condition, and we hear is to be repaired and used for freight transportation—perhaps above Fayetteville.

Capt. Samuel W. Skinner is also building a small light steamer, the Little Sam, for use as we hear, on Waccamaw river to Georgetown in S. C.  It will be finished in a few weeks.

Thus we see there are seven steamers actively and profitably engaged in our business now—half of them new and all in good condition, besides three more to be in use on the river during the year.  With such facilities for cheap water transportation, Fayetteville can certainly receive the products of central North Carolina and furnish supplies in return, on better terms, than any other town in the state.  We think arrangements might be made soon for travelers from Raleigh to Wilmington to come this way and spend the night on the boats—all within 24 hours either way, and for eight or ten dollars.

[The Eagle – Thursday, January 20, 1870]




WILL run the following Schedule between Fayetteville and Wilmington:

The New Iron Steamer DUNCAN MURCHISON, Capt. ALONZO GARRISON, will leave Fayetteville at 8 o’clock A. M. every Tuesday and Friday.  Returning, leave Wilmington every Wednesday and Saturday, at 2 o’clock P. M.

The Steamer ROBERT E. LEE, Capt. WILLIAM SKINNER, will leave Fayetteville at 8 o’clock A. M. every Wednesday and Saturday.  Returning, leave Wilmington every Monday and Thursday, at 2 o’clock P. M.

The EXPRESS STEAMBOAT COMPANY offers to the public both security and comfort in the above Boats, and asks for a share of the travel on the Cape Fear.

J. D. WILLIAMS & CO.                                                         Agents, Fayetteville, N. C.

WILLIAMS & MURCHISON,                                           Agents, Wilmington, N. C.

[The Eagle – Thursday, February 24, 1870]

Correspondence of the Eagle.


Old “Squi Bob” is now afloat again after a retirement of nearly two years—still his vigor is the same, tho’ oft repeated misfortunes have befallen him in his peregrinations in this elaborately curled up world of ours—which a man of more nerve and determination would have “caved in under.”  I must here tell you what a terrible mishap befell that trusty old friend of mine the Carpet Bag, just on the point of my leaving that always happy and desirable place which you know nothing about –home.

You know when any great personage is making his extensive arrangements for a long journey, there is a great amount of assorting, packing, sewing on buttons, starching collars, darning socks, which causes a great deal of excitement and bustle about the house.  All know just what you want and must get it for you and it finally proves to be the very thing you do not want.  But all both great and small must have something to do with packing.  Squi’s little daughter who is very smart, willing and anxious to lend a helping hand, must volunteer her services to bring the said carpet bag, partly filled down from the second story, when lo!  Such a rumbling, tumbling and tearing away as was heard.—When Squi looked around to discover the cause of this tumultuous uproar, here came daughter, carpet bag, collars, cravats, socks, combs, unmentionables all in glorious confusion.  Sometimes carpet bag “top rail,” then daughter “top rail,” and when all reached the lower floor you could hardly have told daughter from the other dry goods, so perfect was the mixture.  The result was carpet bag mashed—stove in—lock gone and a goose egg protuberance on said daughter’s head.

I can assure you, your ‘old friend “Squi” felt his breath pass easier when the extent of the catastrophe was ascertained, because this little individual is the only female boy of any #iz# “Squi” ###.

It was a dark and stormy morning the clouds were low and murky.

The winds blew cold and bleak,

The mud was very soft and deep, when your humble correspondent left the town of magnificent distances with all the valuables which years of toil and anxiety had placed under kind protection, upon one of those vehicles which transport merchandise to and from the town, just one mile from the river, and myself upon another with a small box 2 by 3 that contained slight mementoes to friends in “furren lands.”

The Capt. of the D. Murchison had been waiting for my august body ever since the day before, and it would have done your soul good to have seen that kind and genial smile which pervaded his countenance as he saw me drive down to the gang plank with my beautiful caparisoned steed and equipments.

He says, “Squire,” I am very glad to see you, for we have been anxiously waiting for you.  At the same time he remarked, I suppose you intend taking a long trip by the magnitude of your baggage.  This I thought a gratuitous compliment therefore paid no attention to it.

We are now off, and down the Cape Fear we are speeding our way towards the sea.  While it is cold without, we are comfortable within this snug and coy little cabin.  Old Sol keeps his face in obscurity for the present so that when he shall conclude to cast upon us his effulgent rays, we may, more fully appreciate his revivifying power.

There is nothing of interest, which I have seen in our voyage but what all of your readers have heard and seen before, still all have views different from each other that an interchange might produce some good result.

In passing along this river, all I have no doubt, have noticed the large amount of marl which has lain in its present bed for thousands of years and may continue so to do thousands of years more, if the hand of men should not be raised to take it from its present resting place.  Those that are good judges have pronounced some of these marls equal to the “Green sands” of New Jersey.  This being the case why not dig them and apply them to the lands along the Cape Fear, in preference to paying the exorbitant prices asked for imported and domestic manipulated fertilizers.  Some of which have a good portion of snuff colored clay found in almost inexhaustible quantities in the New England States and Pennsylvania mixed with them.

These marls could be easily transported on flats up and down the river at a small cost.  And when prudently applied to land after being composted, for years cotton and corn are stimulated by them to produce abundant yields and no deleterious effects remain after their stimulating qualities are gone.

Night approaches and I must put up paper and pencil for the very agreeable task of destroying a few refreshments prepared by our hospitable captain.  Yours, SQUI BOB.

[The Eagle – Thursday February 24, 1870]

— Says the Eagle: A dangerous collision with two of our steamboats occurred last Friday evening, the 4th inst., some 20 miles above Wilmington.  The Steamer D. Murchison going down the river, while turning one of the short curves in that part of the river, ran into the Gov. Worth which was coming up.  The Worth has side wheels and one of these was completely crushed and disabled, and the adjoining upper portions of the boat were badly damaged.  A negro woman on the lower deck of the Worth was severely and perhaps fatally wounded.  Fortunately the Worth was not damaged below the water’s edge, and by the use of one wheel reached Fayetteville Saturday evening.  The Murchison was not seriously hurt.  The Gov. Worth is now being repaired and will be on duty again perhaps in a month.

[Wilmington Star – March 12, 1870]


Tuesday, May 9th.

—  The steamer Murchison, Capt. Garrison, which arrived here at about half-past 5 o’clock this afternoon, having left Fayetteville about 5 minutes after 7, stopping some ten or twelve times, reports that the river is now in good boating order, though it is rapidly falling at Fayetteville.

[Morning Star – Wednesday, May 10, 1871]

THE STEAMER MURCHISON.— Capt. Garrison’s splendid steamer, the Murchison, has recently been receiving some very handsome improvements; and last Saturday afternoon Capt. A. B. Williams, with a small company of ladies and gentlemen , visited the Murchison at her wharf, and were carried down the river about fifteen miles, on a short trial trip.  The LaFayette Cornet Band were among the invited guests, and gave sweet music during the ride, and also for a dance on the lower deck.  The ladies and gentlemen were full of life and gaiety, refreshments were served, and the excursion, though short, was delightful.  The Murchison is now in capital trim, and, with her popular commander, offers every comfort and facility for a journey down the Cape Fear.

[North Carolina Gazette – Second Edition – June 18, 1874]

Extensive Robery on a Steamboat —Part of the Money Recovered—Arrests on Suspicion.

We have known for a day or two past that quite an extensive robbery had occurred on the steamerer D. Murchison, while on the trip from this place to Fayetteville, on Wednesday last, but have withheld the facts for prudential reasons.  It seems that the boat was stopped at some point on the river for the purpose of landing a lady passenger, Capt. Garrason accompanying her some distance.  In the meantime the hands were directed to gather moss on the shore, and it was during this interval that some person or persons of those remaining on the boat went to the Captain’s desk, got the key of the safe, unlocked it and took therefrom a package of money amounting to $5,000, which had been forwarded by Messrs. Williams & Murchison to some party in Fayetteville, after which the safe was relocked and the key returned to the desk.  The money was not missed until the boat arrived at Fayetteville, when circumstances which came to the knowledge of Capt. Garrason led to the arrest of Perry Cotton, Assistant Pilot, and the fireman, known on the river by the appellation of “Big Allen,” who were lodged in jail.  A colored boy employed on the boat was also held until the examination came off.  Subsequent to the arrest of these parties a portion of the missing money, amounting to $2,500, was found secreted in what is know as the “dome house,” which would lead to the impression that there were two persons concerned in the robbery and that the money was divided between them.

The trial of the parties mentioned was to have taken place at Fayetteville on Friday.

[Wilmington Star – November 29, 1874]

The Late Robbery on the Steamer Murchison.

The examination into the case of Perry Cotton and Allen Gilmore, or “Big Allen,” as he is generally termed, both colored men, who were arrested on suspicion of having appropriated the $5,000 which was stolen from the safe of the steamer D. Murchison on Wednesday of last week, mention of which has been made in the STAR, came off in Fayetteville on Monday.  The evidence was entirely of a circumstantial character, and, not being deemed by the Magistrate sufficient to convict, the defendants were discharged.  It will be remembered that $2,500 of the stolen money was recovered a day or two after the robbery, having been secreted on the boat.

[Wilmington Star – December 3, 1874]

Local Dots.

—  The Fayettevillians have been in the frigid zone for some time past.  Captain Garrason, of the steamer Murchison reports not only good skating in that region, but miniature specimens of icebergs floating  around, from Haw and Deep rivers.

[Wilmington Morning Star – Thursday, January 9, 1879]

Up the Cape Fear – Condition of the River.

From Capt. Garrason, of the steamer D. Murchison, which arrived here last night about 9 o’clock, we learn that the river had risen 55 feet at Fayetteville, but had commenced to fall a few minutes before the Murchison left yesterday morning.  Capt. Garrason reports that a good many cattle were drowned by the freshet, and that many more will probably be, as he passed several herds on submerged islands, from which they would almost certainly be swept by the rapidity of the current.

[Wilmington Morning Star – Wednesday, January 15, 1879]


—  The steamer D. Murchison, Captain Garrason, which left for Fayetteville at 2 P. M. yesterday, will remain at that place for two weeks from next Wednesday for repairs, repainting, &c.

[Wilmington Morning Star –  Sunday, March 30, 1879]




Another Trip Down the Cape Fear – Parting with Friends – Good-bye, Fayetteville – “ Homeward-Bound “ – Retrospective – Incidents of the Journey, &c.


EDITOR GAZETTE: — In the fair sweet light of the early morning the steamer “Murchison“ lies alongside of her wharf; the gang plank is thrown out, we step on board; the gallant captain hastens to meet us; we make our way to the ladies‘ cabin, thence to the after deck, and stand there for a few moments to chat with friends.  Then comes the parting we have dreaded for so many days.  Once before we wafted a gay “good bye“ from the deck of the steamer “Worth“ for a jaunt down the river – a gay good bye, then, for we were coming back in a little while; but now this is a good-bye, it may be, like Enoch Arden‘s – “for years or forever,“ for though during the past few months our barque has many times drifted from its moorings, yet now it is “homeward bound.“

The ropes part; they are quickly drawn in; our steamer floats slowly and gracefully out to mid-river, then swings round under full steam, and with her monster wheel beating the waters into milk-white foam she heads away down the river.

Good bye, Fayetteville, good bye: Noble old town! Though thy former glory has departed; though “the axe has been laid at the root of thy throne,“ though the old glad days of thy brightness are gone, and the pomp of they pageantry shorn;  “yet thy people can still“ laugh from clear throats, “for their faith is ever-present with them – the faith of a near and bright future – when the phoenix, proud bird, shall spring from its ashes; when the shriveled beans, as in the beautiful legend, shall burst into life within the hollow of the empty gourd; when thine shall be not a mere sounding name, not a dead and buried past, but an every vivifying present.  Farewell!  To us, gazing with eager, ardent eyes, our own future lies bright and alluring before us.  We are “homeward-bound.“  Away out among the bright green valleys and “red old hills of Georgia“ – in one noon where the sun seems never to forget to shine; where the cherry trees are now one mass of snowy bloom, and the song of the robins is heard all day long, nestles the dear home to which our heart has turned many times since we left it.  Joyous will be the home coming.  Eyes will grow brighter, hearts beat faster, the alabaster boxes of love spring wide open at our touch.  Even now our lips quiver in eager anticipation.  Yet there comes one sad, tender thought – a thought of the present.  We are standing now one the deck of a steamer, each revolution of its wheels bearing us further and further from the place which, for three months past, has been to us a second home – from hearts that beat for us, too – whose tender words make tender re-echoes  within our own hearts, with whom we have lived, and mingled, and held communion for so long.  Is it a wonder, then, that we bow our head with deep emotion as we murmur our last farewell; that up from our heart leaps into one deep, long sob of regret as our boat rounds the curve, and the last glimmer of the banks, the trees, the tops of the houses – the arches of the old bridge fade from our view?

“Sweet Innisfallen, fare thee well!

May calm and sunshine long {be thine;}

How dear thou art let others tell,

While but to feel how dear be mine. ”

Once more “good bye.“  If in the coming years our feet should never press thy soil again; if our eyes should never more rest upon they “banks and braes,“ yet memory will ever keep fresh and green within our heart a tender thought of they and of thy clever, whole souled people.  Out on the great sea of life their barques and ours have drifted far apart – perhaps never to meet here again, yet we pray God each and every one of them

May find the same welcoming haven at last,

And touch on the banks of the “Beautiful Shore.“

Our steamer glides along.  We hastily brush the tears from our eyes, and turning our back – not our heart – upon the past, prepare to enjoy the present, to anticipate the future.

Capt. Garrason, ever thoughtful, ever kind, brings chairs, and seated on the forward deck, with the soft warm sunshine falling in a happy flood around us, we give ourself up to dreaming.  The air is so soft – so delicious – it is simply bliss to breathe it; all manner of “sweet smells“ are wafted to us from the banks on either side.

“For the spring has come secure,

Raining blossoms over all;

And the woods, with blessings green,

On the earth-born children call.“

The cane looks brighter, the trees are more vivid in their coloring than they were three weeks ago.  The water ripples as the light breeze stirs across it, then breaks into graceful curves, which emit tiny jets and sparkles as the sunlight plays upon it.  The birds flit from tree to tree, or cleaving the air with long graceful downward dippings of their wings fly high above our heads, the joyous twitter, the merry trill, bursting forth from their tiny throats, and waking an echoing chord of sweetest music in our own heart.

The morning wears on; the trees fling their long shadows across the stream – how cool and inviting the banks look!  How the white sand glistens and stretches away on either side in great waves of gleaming light.  Down among the trees, in the shadow of the o’er hanging cane-brakes, so near the river’s edge their long tails idly brush the water, a group of mild-eyed cows are lying, blinking contentedly in the sunshine.

A sharp quick whistle arouses us from our reverie; the bell taps; the steamer “rounds to;” the plank is thrown across, and a lady her escort, and her trunk come aboard.  How lightly she trips across!  We can see nothing but a plump figure in a water proof cloak, with a palmetto hat trimmed with black velveteen perched jauntily to one side; but the manner in which she turns to speak to her escort, the laugh, the sudden pull she gives her hat, the way in which she holds her dress, all betray the rustic belle.  She throws her head back to look up at the deck where we are standing.  Our eyes meet.  She bows and smiles – quite a rustic bow, it is true, but charming in its naïve simplicity.  We bow and smile in return.  That is sufficient.  When she comes aboard she is not at all backward about cultivating our acquaintance.  One cannot be stiff or formal on a steamer or in a railroad car.  Directly we go back to our old nook on the forward deck and enjoy the sunning with all a turtle’s relish.  Very soon our attention is attracted by the cry: “Heigh ho! There!” We turn quickly.  On the bank are a half dozen darkies in all the glory of holiday attire, three women and three men; and two more making their way across the river just in front of us, in a light canoe.  If they do not mind they will be caught by the swell, or by the boat itself.  The women on the bank seem to think so, too, for their loud cries of “Look out!”  “Look out!”  “Better get out of de way, dar!”  come to us quite distinctly.  But evidently the men have no fear, all too well assured of their skill as expert oarsmen to expect a collision or a swamping.  As the boat runs near the bank one fat, good-natured old “mamma“ decked out in a flaming new print, and big white apron, her round ebony face fairly shining with delight, drops us a “courtesy.”  “How d’ye do, Missus?”  “How d’ye do, mamma.” Nodding and smiling, and just then thinking of our baby days – was it so long ago! When we used to cuddle down in the great, kind arms of our own dear old black “mamma,“ and with our head upon her bosom be lulled to sleep with the songs she used to crone.  “What’s up, Auntie?” we questioned, with another nod and smile.  “Gwine to a weddin at Rob’sons landing,” stooping down to brush off a bit of mud from her white apron.  “O, is that it?  Now, don’t forget to send us a bit of the cake, Auntie.”  At this “Auntie“ stares, and as the steamer glides by we can just catch the tones of her voice shouting after us; “Whar? whar? whar send it to?”

A half hour later comes the clear sound of the dinner bell, as it swings to and fro in the

###{paper damaged} be,” the polite and smiling {} We obey the call with alacrity, and at {}t of the well spread table, on which Aunt Chloe’s hands have arranged everything so temptingly, our mouth begins to water.  Capt. Garrason takes seat {at} the foot of the table and pre {}es with all the {} uity and grace of an accomplished host.  Su### Mrs. G. has had him in ### Among other things we have for {} twelve pounds.  It is served up in “Uncle### s” best sytle, and we do it full justice.

As we get up from the table the whistle blows for Elizabeth Town, and Capt. Garrason, ever polite, ever attentive, and solicitous for our enjoyment, proposes our going ashore and taking a walk through the small but quite famous little town.  There are many points of historical interest, which want of time only keeps us from visiting.  Among other places we visit the celebrated Tory’s Hole – a deep and rather picturesque ravine – where it is said many Tories had concealed themselves for days, and even weeks at a time.  One building in the neighborhood pointed out to us is over a hundred years old, and yet in a state of preservation.  At the store of Mr. Mulford we are shown quite a curiosity in the shape of a huge bone, dug from an old marl pit, within a short distance of Elizabeth Town.  It appears to be a part of the hip joint of some monstrous animal, and measures 12 inches across the widest point.  On our way back to the boat Capt. Garrason finds and measures a huge grape vine, declared by the good people of Elizabeth to be the largest ever yet discovered.  This monster vine measures 46 ½ inches in circumference.  Just think of that!

Three o’clock and fifteen minutes, P. M. when we come ### and steam away from Elizabeth Town #####  arm chair, on the forward deck, allure us once more.  With a little sigh of restful content we thrown ourselves within it, our elbows on the railing, our hands supporting our chin, and go to dreaming again.  The evening wears on  In all the beauty of its picturesque windings stretches the Cape Fear before us; away out yonder the water breaks into little ripples, tiny waves, gentle undulations, which toy and sport like coy, sweet nymphs in their frolics; the boat breaks in upon their play## them with stormy breath into tossing surges, which dash away on either side, and climb high up the banks.  “The charm’d sunset lingers low adown in the red west;” a golden, glow, delicious in its warmth and tint, lingers over land and sky, casting wavering lights and shadows on the gleaming sheet of foam below – glinting upon the stretches of white sand, while the maple, and elm, and pine tops are sunset flushed.  From out the cane-brake comes the low, soft piping of birds, the delicious fragrance of the yellow jessamines, and the amorous odor of the wild grape blooms are wafted to us from the depth of the green crown’d woods.  One of the bow hands lies half across the capstan fast asleep, another is coiled up at his feet, his head serenely reposing against a pile of wood; from the stern of the boat comes a low, faint whistle, never getting an octave higher, but low, and to us almost as musical as the bird tri’l on the banks.  Our eyes close, our head falls upon our folded arms;

“How sweet it were hearing the flowing stream

With half-shut eyes ever to seem

Falling asleep in a half dream.”

Where are we?  How far away are the “Happy Isles?”  Are we drifting away to that land in which it seems already afternoon, where round the coast the languid air doth swoon; the land of the lotus blooms?

An hour later when we come on deck again,

“The night already darkles;

Holy star succeeds to star;

Dazzling lights and fainter sparkles

Glimmer near and gleam afar.”

To-morrow morning when we open our eyes we will be one hundred and twelve miles on our journey and in Carolina’s “Queen City near the Sea,”

Au revoir!                    “NAN MARIE”

[North Carolina Gazette – April 3, 1879]

— The Steamer D. Murchison, Capt. Garrason, after an absence of about three weeks at Fayetteville, where she has been undergoing an overhauling, arrived yesterday morning dressed out in a new spring suit, and presenting a very neat and handsome appearance.  She left on regular schedule time (2 p. m.) and it was expected that she would reach Fayetteville by 3 a. m. to-day, being an hour in advance of her regular time.

[Wilmington Star – April 20, 1879]

— The steamer D. Murchison, Capt. Garrason, from Fayetteville, came down on the freshet yesterday in quick time, making the run in 9 hours and 30 minutes, including stoppages.  She arrived at her wharf in this city at 9.30 o’clock last night.  Capt. Garrason reports the river as booming, with a rise of thirty feet at Fayetteville, and a prospect of more.

[Wilmington Star – March 19, 1880]




boat Company will run as follows from this date until further notice.

Steamer D. MURCHISON, Capt. Alonzo Garrason, will leave Fayetteville every Tuesday and Friday at 7 o’clock A. M., and Wilmington every Wednesday and Saturday at 2 o’clock P.M.

Steamer WAVE, Capt. W. A. Robeson, will leave Fayetteville on Mondays and Thursdays at 7 o’clock A. M., and Wilmington Tuesdays and Fridays at 1 o’clock P. M. connecting with the Western Railroad at Fayetteville on Wednesdays and Saturdays.


Agents at Fayetteville, N. C.

[Fayetteville Examiner – Thursday, October 14, 1880]

— We have omitted to mention a matter of some moment in steamboating circles, and that is the recent resignation of Capt. Garrason, of the steamer D. Murchison, whose long and faithful services on the river had endeared him to his employers and won him a host of friends.  He gives up his position, we learn, to engage in other business.  He is succeeded in command of the steamer by Capt. Jerre Roberts, of Fayetteville, a gentleman of experience, and who, about twenty-five years ago, was one of a firm who run on the river, between this city and Fayetteville, what was known as the Frank & Jerre Line of steamers, being called after the brothers, Frank and Jerre Roberts.

[Wilmington Star – December 1, 1880]


—  A telegram was received by Messrs. Worth & Worth, yesterday morning, to the effect that there had been a rise of about twenty-five feet in the Cape Fear, caused by the great thaw of ice and snow going on up the river, and that the water was still rising.

—  We learn that the steamer A. P. Hurt was under pretty good control when she arrived here yesterday morning, with not the slightest chance of her “cutting up any capers” to hurt, there being no less than five steamboat captains on board to keep her straight, to-wit:  Green, Worth, Garrason, Thornton and Watson.

[Wilmington Morning Star – Saturday, January 8, 1881]

The Cape Fear River Captains

“Capt. Alonzo Garrason, for many years one of the most popular steamboatmen on the Cape Fear river,” says the Wilmington Star, “but now a popular and prosperous merchant of Fayetteville reached here last night.”

What a good lot they have ever been, anyway, those delightful River boat captains!  His heart must indeed be a dull one which does not quicken its beats when the fine figures of Rush, and Wilkinson, and Hurt are recalled of those who are gone, and the good cheer and good company they presided over, in the cabins, in the winter nights.  And we never see one of the modern ones – Green, Albert Worth, Jim Smith, Garrason and Robeson – without feeling an impulse to embrace him for old times’ sake.

How the time slips by!  Veterans of the Independent and LaFayette companies will recall the May morning when the A. P. Hurt swung out into the stream, thirty-two years ago, loaded down with the young fellows who then made up the pride of Fayetteville, destined for the great war.  And that, by the way, was the only communication by stream conveyance that Fayetteville had with the outside world.

[Fayetteville Observer – Thursday, July 20, 1893]

Death of Capt Garrason.

Not only the people of Fayetteville but of all the Cape Fear country will receive with sorrow the news of the death of Capt. Alonzo Garrason, who, after a long period of ill health and much suffering, passed away at his residence on Person street at 2 o’clock Thursday night, aged 70 years.

Capt. Garrason was detailed for special service in the machinery department of the Confederate arsenal at this place during the civil war, where his skill and devotion to duty were exceptionally valuable.  About the year 1868 he took command of the Murchison, on of the finest steamers on the river, and for many years he ranked as one of the most popular and efficient captains that ever plied the Cape Fear.  Subsequently he engaged in merchandising, and up to his death was one of the leading grocers of Fayetteville.

The deceased married Miss Belle Beasley, daughter of the late Rev. J. M. Beasley; who survives him with one son, Mr. John Garrason, a daughter, Mrs. T. F. Cheek, having died some years ago.  He was born in Brunswick county, near Wilmington.

Capt. Garrason was a member of the First Baptist church, from which the funeral took place Sunday at 3:30 o’clock.


Funeral of Capt. Garrason.

A very large gathering of mourning relatives and friends attended the funeral services over the remains of the late Capt. Alonzo Garrason from the First Baptist Church Sunday afternoon, Rev. F. W. Eason conducting the exercises.  The deceased was escorted to the grave by the Knights of Pythias, and following were the pallbearers:  Honorary—Capts. W. A. Robeson, A. B. Williams, I. C. Bond, Messrs A. H. Slocomb, Charles Kennedy, B. G. Hollingsworth; active—Capt. R. A. Southerland, Dr. J. F. Highsmith, Messrs. C. B. McMillan, W. L. Holt, M. F. Crawford, E. L. Remsburg, A. E. Rankin, E. W. Nolley.

[Fayetteville Observer – Thursday, November 12, 1903]

Capt. Alonzo Garrason

Capt. Alonzo Garrason

The Cape Fear River Steamers

Comments Off on Captain Alonzo Garrason

Posted by on July 4, 2009 in Uncategorized


Comments are closed.

%d bloggers like this: