Broadside Advertising the Schooner Michigan Being Sent Over the Falls Image courtesy of Niagara Falls Public Library
Each second over Horseshoe Falls two million liters flood,
And many a macabre tale pollutes the flow with blood,
From suicides, to murders, to barrel stunts gone bad,
All the trauma, gore and death, it’s terrible and it’s sad.
But what tale could be the worst upon the raging water.
A tale of human cruelty, a tale of needless slaughter.
The tale that fills me up the most with sorrow and with rage,
At the bottom of the Falls, there’s a bison in a cage.
A plan was hatched two centuries past when tourism was down,
By three hotel business men named Forsyth, Whitney and Brown.
Forsyth mused “We need a way to bring people to our town,”
“We could send a pirate ship over Horseshoe falls,” said Brown.
“An empty ship,” said Whitney, “Isn’t wild enough I find.”
“On board shall be ferocious beasts of every different kind.”
“Yes!” the men exclaimed at once, then they shook hands and agreed.
“A ruined Noah’s Arc is just the spectacle we need!”
Of the trio, not one man stopped to think this might be wrong.
An old schooner, the Michigan, was purchased for a song.
It was a British navy boat in the 1812 war,
And then a merchant vessel traveling from shore to shore.
By 1827, the time of this dark tale,
The ship was old and broken down, not even fit to sail.
Tied to the Michigan’s foremast the Jolly Roger flew,
And secured upon the deck was a dummy pirate crew.
With Union Jack on the stern, Stars and Stripes on the bow,
They showed our post war countries were friendly and peaceful now.
Though they wanted lions and tigers for their floating zoo,
They got raccoons, fox, and geese, and a couple of bears too.
Some say there was an eagle, some say a dog and a cat.
The reporters of the time didn’t all agree on that.
They promised this would be the spectacle of the age.
In the middle of the ship was a bison in a cage.
Ten thousand people came to watch and business was good.
The pubs ran out of beer; the restaurants ran out of food.
The people gathered by the edge to get a better view,
And marvel at the fate of our frightened animal crew.
A steamship called Chippewa had the Michigan in tow
A kilometer from the edge it let the old ship go.
The raging river moved the boat astonishingly fast
The geese all honked and ran about, the raccoon climbed the mast.
The spectators agreed it looked like chaos on the deck,
As fur and fowl tried as they might to get off of the wreck.
But in amidst the madness as the river war did wage,
Remaining stoic and serene, a bison in a cage.
Two bears leapt off the fated boat and swam towards the shore
They made it to Goat Island then despite the river’s roar
Some say the bears lived out their lives while some say they did not
Some local hunters tracked them down and they were promptly shot.
The Michigan was tossed about and soon was smashed to pieces
Fragments were swept down the falls with the racoons and geeses.
Amongst all this destruction, at a speed that’s hard to gauge.
Soaring o’er Niagara Falls, a bison in a cage.
A single goose was found alive, the rest fated to die
The bird was badly battered and she only had one eye.
She was lucky to have survived, at least that’s how it looked.
Until a fancy dinner feast when our poor goose was cooked.
Some say a cat survived as well, I guess we’ll never know
How many lives were dashed that day in the Falls mighty flow.
And Forsyth, Brown and Whitney all made out with wealth abound.
Neither the bison nor the cage was ever even found.
Jennifer Filipowicz moved to the Niagara area in 2025 with her husband, two teenage children and their dogs. When she’s not working as a background performer on a film set, or manning the front desk at a retirement home, Jennifer can be found hiking the Bruce Trail, swimming at Sunset Beach, or reading a book by her backyard pond.
Every morning, right before the break of day,
I arise, and weather permitting, with guitar,
I walk across the bridge that goes over rail tracks,
And go down rugged Jolly Cut near Murray Hill.
I gaze around to find a preferred place to play,
Away from the chilled, gentle mist — but not too far.
At Victoria Park, I search spots to relax —
Seeing the mighty Falls, I feel a glowing thrill.
Then I begin to compose poetry and song . . .
Often, I linger, absorbed in contemplation.
And with creativity — where my thoughts just flow —
There’s loud roaring of the water and sea gulls’ calls.
At one with this grand wondrous scene where I belong,
Elated with each poetic meditation,
As each twilight rushes — with rapid come and go —
I live sunrise in dawns at Niagara Falls.
AI ChatGPT – generated Illustrations about “Dawns at Niagara Falls” —January 2026
Source: Glenn Bridenbaker, 2026
This poem was an entrant in the Niagara Falls Poetry Project 25th Anniversary Poetry Competition. It will be published with all the other entrants in a print anthology to be published by Phylum Press. To reserve a copy of the anthology please email aporteus@niagarapoetry.ca. A companion volume exploring the poetry over 6 centuries will also soon be available, and may be reserved ahead of time.
Glenn Bridenbaker is happily married to beautiful and wise muse wife Cheryl since 1967. Two brilliant sons, a gorgeous daughter. Two glorious granddaughters, an excellent grandson. Ontario residences: Toronto, Manitoulin Island, Wikwemikong Unceded Indigenous Reserve, Niagara Falls, and Ridgeway. Bibliophile. Musician. Nonprofessional writer. Amateur oil and watercolor painting. Novice Oriental Brush Painting. Art collector. Musical instruments and recorded music collector. Numismatist and philatelist. Dog and cat owner. Home vegetable, flower, and landscape gardener. Birdwatcher. Astronomy and space aficionado. Meaningful values include: know thyself, family, health, common sense, truth, logic, integrity, sharing, creativity, curiosity, quality, arts appreciation, and humor. Two years graduate student of Marshall McLuhan at the Centre for Culture and Technology.
The scow after the violent storm that moved it further towards the falls Photo by Andrew Porteus
I remember it was sometime in May
When we all went up to the falls that day
Just me and you and Rebecca and Drew
From Dufferin Islands we walked so far
It was the cheapest place to leave our car
And we strolled along and we passed a barge
On Niagara River, wide and large
The rusted scow had been there forever
And Rebecca who was very clever
Knew the story of the daring rescue
Of the men on the scow when it was new
It broke loose from a tug boat, Becca said
They were saved by man named William Red
The men climbed a cable one at a time
While Red and the coast guard secured the line
And as the river raged on beside us
We walked along with no one to guide us
Went to the casino and played some slots
We won some, I think, but didn’t win lots
To the top of Horseshoe Falls we did go
Where the Maid of the Mist cruised down below
We stood by the falls on that day in May
And got thoroughly misted by the spray
Then stopped at a shop to buy too much fudge
And up Clifton Hill the four of us trudged
We passed a statue on a high tightrope
Then you took my picture with a wax Pope
We saw Frankenstein and Dracula too
Just me and you and Rebecca and Drew
Suddenly Becca collapsed upon the floor
And said “Drew, I can’t take it anymore!”
“I’m exhausted,” she said. “Not feeling well.”
“I’m telling something too early to tell”
“I’m pregnant!” our friend Rebecca did say.
“And so I’m tired from walking all day.”
Back to our cars you and Drew walked and walked
While I sat with Becca and talked and talked
Under a stairway, Rebecca and me.
We spoke about how motherhood would be
(I didn’t know then I was pregnant too)
Then we got in a car with you and Drew
Drove somewhere and ate dinner together
And I’ll remember that day forever
A terrible storm broke apart that scow
And our babies are almost twenty now
Source: The author, 2026.
Jennifer Filipowicz moved to the Niagara area last year with her husband, two teenage children and their dogs. When she’s not working as a background performer on a film set, or manning the front desk at a retirement home, Jennifer can be found hiking the Bruce Trail, swimming at Sunset beach, or reading a book by her backyard pond.
This poem won third place in the Niagara Falls Poetry Project 25th Anniversary Poetry Competition. It will be published with all the other entrants in a print anthology to be published by Phylum Press. To reserve a copy of the anthology please email aporteus@niagarapoetry.ca. A companion volume exploring the poetry over 6 centuries will also soon be available, and may be reserved ahead of time.
Imperial Hotel, Niagara Falls, NY, c1905 Image courtesy of the Library of Congress
I’ve had it in my mind that you
Perchance would like to know
Some things about our old hotels
Of sixty years ago ;
Some have felt the blight of fire,
Of some there’s now no trace,
And some have passed to other use,
And some to new give place.
So let us take a jaunt along
The old way into town,
From Lewiston and Rochester,
Along Ontario down
To where it joined and made the turn
From old-time end of Main,
Ere new built road from Buffalo
Put Falls street on the gain.
First at the bend as we came in,
Pleased comment to arouse,
Now out of use, then looming up,
The New Niagara House ;
And many noted hotel men
Kept it with varied luck,
As long ago as sixty-three
’Twas kept by Alvah Gluck.
Now let us pass along the road
About a block or so,
The old St. Lawrence of that time
But few of it may know ;
’Twas bought by Averil, genial host,
Well known ’mong traveling men,
By him the house was newly named,
Was called ‘The Averil’ then.
But changing times came on apace,
Its hotel life was o’er,
There E. M. Clark for many years
Kept furniture in store ;
When our Salvation Army came
To give us goodly care,
Till their new citadel was built
They had their barracks there.
A little farther ’long the street
The Western Hotel, then
The cradle of success ’twas for
Our prince of hotel men;
’Twas there in ’51, I think,
That Alvah Gluck began
In modest way his long career
As successful hotel man.
Adjacent, corner Falls and Main,
The old-time Falls Hotel,
A grand three-storied structure ’twas,
As such I mind it well ;
Three stories of piazzas,
On front and side, L-shape,
To prove in time of danger
A handy fire escape.
And so it proved one summer morn,
As guests their safety find,
Fast fleeing from their smoke-filled rooms,
With surging flames behind ;
For where the long piazzas end
Their safety soon is found
On lattice work, for ladder steps,
They safely reach the ground.
And high above the cupola
Old Glory floated out,
And as it waved ’mid smoke and flame
Woke many a loyal shout ;
Dense rolls the smoke, the sparks leap high,
And flames the cupola fill,
But higher, as if held on high,
Old Glory triumphs still.
But not for long, the tongues of flame,
Reach higher for their prey,
The tense line snaps—in shreds of flame
Old Glory floats away ;
And flaming shreds of glory
Were waited on the breeze.
Or were hung in fiery festoons
Upon the nearby trees.
Across the way, as one might say,
The International stood,
A good hotel, as hotels went,
In fact some said too good ;
For village days were not the days
That some would proudly vaunt,
And many found it, on their hands,
A hotel elephant.
Rathbone of Buffalo began
In Eighteen forty-nine,
Foundations walls were quickly built,
All seemed progressing fine ;
Financial difficulties came,
A halt was forced to call,
They had a good foundation wall,
But simply, that was all.
Then Childs thought he would take a hand
And better the condition,
’Twas finished, but financially,
Seemed but a repetition ;
Then Osborne, Coleman, Bush, et al,
Each tried the hotel game,
But everything seemed coming right
When J. T. Fulton came.
And all went swimmingly at first,
Success seemed crowding fast,
Out fell the bottom all at once,
The dream again was past.
But for a time firm hands took hold,
And things were bound to go,
Progressive men took hold of it—
Gluck, Ware and Delano.
John F, McDonald, now we find,
Good fortune he compels,
It seems to be with him a fad
This owning big hotels ;
He’s taken our ancient hostelrie,
All olden parts revised,
And turned it out a grand hotel,
In all things modernized.
’Tis but a step I take you now,
Corner of Bridge and Main,
For trace of what I write of now
You’d look today in vain ;
But here upon this corner stood
Till Eighteen fifty four,
The first of village day hotels,
The Eagle Hotel of yore.
No grand hotel was it at all,
But just a village inn,
And yet, what guests assembled there,
What sumptuous fare within ;
For it was in the plenteous time
Of fish and forest game,
High cost of living troubled not
The favored guests who came.
In Eighteen fifty-five ’twas moved,
For time such changes bring ;
The great hotel extended then
By south and western wing ;
As billiard parlor, servant’s hall,
A laundry at the last,
So served the Eagle, till torn down,
Its history was past.
Now move along till we have reached
The end of Old Main street,
And here, most famous of them all,
The Cataract we meet ;
’Twas built in Eighteen thirty-two,
Full long before our day,
For half a century and more,
Its name and fame held sway.
It’s fame had traveled far afield,
Not only here at home,
In Europe you would hear of it,
Where’er you chanced to roam ;
’Twas added to as years went on,
As wing by wing it grew,
Until, most famous of them all,
No rivalry it knew.
The river wing reached out until
The rapids laved its base,
But, ah ! the State took that away,
Of it there’s now no trace ;
How oft the patrons left the heat
Of sun-scorched thoroughfare,
On balconies breathed purest air
From river breezes there.
’Tis antiquated now and old,
Out-dated one might say ;
And still, by guests of long ago,
’Tis sought for e’en today ;
And if today it were rebuilt
On modern hotel plan,
No introduction it would need,
Its name the years would span.
One hotel more, beyond the race,
How many hold in mind ?
The River House, well known indeed,
in years far left behind ;
Their baths, well known to all who came,
They came again, who knew,
Returning patrons, year by year,
Sure patronage they drew.
The Cataract House cast envious eyes
For years upon the place,
Then came their chance, they bought it in,
Removed of it all trace ;
For such is life, and worldly strife,
We sip Dame Fortune’s cup,
And all the world is just the same—
Big eat the little up.
Up Falls street way, that early day,
Hotels indeed were few,
As memory traces back the street
It brings to mind but two ;
The Franklin House, long, rambling, old,
Substantial though, of stone,
From 1840 to that time
Its ups and downs had known.
And still as years went on, what change
Of managers it knew,
And as the years kept creeping by,
More antiquated grew ;
Then Wm. Maher the corner bought,
Took half the building neat,
Rube Porter took the other half,
Extending down Falls street.
Across the way, diagonal,
The new built Empire stood,
And as hotels went at that day,
Might well be counted good ;
Here Wm. Samways then essayed
A try at hotel life,
Two seasons so, it proved no go,
He then gave up the strife.
Ransome and Avery next essayed
To see what could be done,
Dropped the Empire from the sign,
Called it the Clarendon ;
It was a grand high-sounding name,
But yet it would not do,
A two years’ test, it proved enough,
And they as well were through.
Then Alvah Gluck, whose hotel life,
Had been successful, planned,
Sized up the venture carefully,
Then boldly took a hand ;
Refitting and refurnishing
Till all was spick and span.
He dropped the grand high-sounding name,
Called it The American.
Success attended from the first,
Each year increased its fame,
Then sad mischance, it felt the blight
Of fierce devouring flame ;
’Twas war time then, and ’twas not thought
Expedient to rebuild,
So for a time the cellar lay
With stone and debris filled.
Now Manager Gluck was not the man
To idly stand and wait,
So he made ready for a bout
At fisticuffs with fate.
He kept the Franklin and Niagara,
And set each one in order,
And for a time the Clifton House,
Far famed, across the border.
’Tis Sixty-five, things now revive,
The American site is cleared,
A larger and a finer house
New enterprise has reared ;
When lo! ere it was finished quite,
While shavings strewed the floor,
It fell a prey to flames again,
In ruins lay once more.
But this time enterprise would not
By adverse fate be held,
Ere scarce the walls have touched the ground
They’re starting to rebuild ;
Again the new hotel is built,
And famous it became,
’Twas known by travellers far and wide,
The Spencer, now the name.
A quarter of a century here
By Proprietor Gluck was spent,
Until in spring of ’92
Once more by flame it went ;
Three times and out, it was enough,
No more they tempt fate’s shock,
A business, office building now,
You find the great Gluck block.
While on the subject of hotels,
Perchance ’twere well that I
Should mention some old nearby ones,
Just give their names and try
And bring them back into the mind
Of those who knew them there,
Or make it plain, to newer friends,
The places once they were.
Now, in our North End village days,
When Bellevue was its name,
Two fair hotels stood oposite ;
One fell a prey to flame.
The American, a goodly house,
Long since it passed away,
Where it once stood now stands the stores
Of Silberbergs today.
The United States, across the way,
Conjestedly is set
’Mong buildings crowding on each side,
But there it’s standing yet ;
The old Frontier, top of the hill,
That led down to the boat,
’Twas built in Eighteen fifty-four,
Was then a place of note.
When the great Suspension Bridge was built,
And trains first crossing there,
The grand Monteagle House was built
With prospects more than fair ;
But when you come to buck with fate
You’ll find you simply can’t ;
The hotel’s gone, now in its place
A great cold storage plant.
When the North End depot first was built,
Two new hotels there came,
The Western Hotel one, and one
The Central House by name ;
The Western’s standing there today,
The Central House is gone,
Went up in smoke and flame one night,
But more of that anon.
Now, over “ome,” the Clifton House,
That could not well be missed,
’Mong earliest built of our hotels,
I find upon the list ;
First built in Eighteen thirty-four,
Remodeled Forty-eight,
Burned Sunday morn, June 26th,
Of Eighteen ninety-eight.
’Twas thought ’twould quickly be rebuilt,
But there was nothing doing,
For years the walls lay as they fell,
A sad, unsightly ruin ;
But enterprise at length woke up,
The walls arose once more,
Again the Clifton is itself, Rebuilt in Nineteen Four.
The Prospect House, for royal style,
Acquired a world-wide fame,
And from the prospect there obtained
It well deserved its name ;
The government must have a park,
Removal was in order,
Dave thought ’twould be the best to move
His house this side the border.
The Union House, I near forgot,
Sure, Dennis Lane would rise
In ghostly form and gaze at me
With sorrow in his eyes
Should I forget the goodly house
Where old Hibernians met,
Methinks in cellar corners, songs
Of Cdan-na-Gael ring yet.
For years ’twas called the Windsor House,
D’ye moind the windy pane
We voted through at ’lection times,
While we stood in the rain.
The hotel’s now the Pittsburg called,
It shows of time the wear,
How different from the palmy days
When it was first built there.
Now here, perchance, I well might rest,
And call my task well done,
Though village days are not yet o’er
Nor city days yet won ;
From Seventy-one to Ninety-one,
Years twenty intervene,
We’ll look ’mong hotels’ of those years
And see what may be seen.
The Hotel Kaltenbach was built
Full thirty years ago,
first class can only be applied,
The only class they know ;
Location fine, the prospect grand,
Each guest remembers well,
Located far from traffic’s din,
The quiet, home hotel.
The Temperance House began quite small,
Improving bit by bit,
The original has disappeared,
There’s nothing left of it ;
Each year that passes, it would seem,
Of new annexes tells,
Until it only may be classed
Among our grand hotels.
The Hotel Porter came apace,
Might well be counted fine ;
The Imperial quickly followed it,
Imposing in design ;
The Hotel Porter burned complete,
Imperial damaged, too ;
The Hotel Porter built no more,
The Imperial starts anew.
Across the way, McMahon’s Hotel,
Which really was a part
Of our first business building here,
The old-time Frontier Mart ;
Called first the Prospect, Isaacs bought
Sole right to use the same ;
Mike called it then United States,
The Empire now its name.
There’s many more that I might name,
And make a long review,
The Cosmopolitan, Colonnade,
And there’s the Park Place, too,
The Hotel Mayle and State Park,
The Clifton called today,
The European, Rapids and Cascade,
Along the Riverway.
The Schwartz Hotel on Falls street, too,
Of village days can tell,
And Tugby’s grand Goat Island House,
E’en yet remembered well ;
I think that’s all ; but hold ; alack !
John’s wrath I might arouse,
For still they’re serving “ham and eggs”
At the famous Harvey House.
Salt’s New Hotel, there also was,
The Waverly now, you know,
The Hotel Atlantique, which was built
By Hengstler long ago ;
The Niagara Falls House, Ferguson’s,
On Main street near to Falls,
These, with the New Columbia,
Is all my mind recalls.
But ere I close, one more I’d note,
Down hy the river stood,
’Twas built near Hill and Murray’s mill,
Well might they call it good ;
For in its base, as I’ve been told,
Each toughened, oaken sill,
Was from the firm foundation of
Our first built paper mill.
I mind me of the merry time
When this hotel was done,
How o’er their hocus corner-stone
They had such heaps of fun ;
Mind how the master builder came,
And fashioned it with care,
And how the records of the time
Were carefully placed there.
Mind how the builders laid it out
And spared nor time nor money,
And how they laid that corner-stone
With proper ceremony ;
Mind how the eminent jurist spoke,
When they enshrined the treasure
Within the crypt, cut in that stone,
Of good and ample measure.
When ages pass, and things of now,
Should have a different glow,
There, even then, was talk about
The State Park, as you may know ;
Then o’er this, then, dismantled house
These things might all be shown,
When workmen find the treasure of
That “grin-stun” corner-stone..
But as the Reservation came
And State was paramount,
The treasure of plain citizens
Was deemed of small account ;
The hotel soon was moved away,
Foundation walls laid prone,
I wonder, in the juggling change,
How fared that corner-stone.
Now was some knowing one on hand,
To mark it well with eye ?
And carefully removed the same,
And cribbed it on the sly ;
If such the case, long time has passed,
’Twould be no harm to say,
Or e’en admit the truth and tell
Who has that stone today.
Source: John R. Barlow. Village Days in Old Niagara Falls, volume two, 1912. Cover title: Reminiscent Rhymes of Village Days in Old Niagara Falls, volume two. [no publisher or place of publication listed]
John Barlow was the chief guide at the Cave of the Winds for many years.
I love the word. It aptly describes
the deadly allure of Niagara’s vibes:
primal urges to be swimming or flying
that often end up with somebody dying.
Source: T.W. Kriner. The Red Pill and Other Poems. Buffalo: J & J Publishing, 2026.
It is well known that Niagara Falls produces a mesmerizing effect, that draws people to it, and overwhelms the senses, drawing some to commit or attempt to commit suicide, as documented in interviews with survivors, and in the words of many of the poets represented on the Niagara Falls Poetry Project website. Describing this phenomenon, Kriner coined the word hydracropsychic in his book In the Mad Water: Two Centuries of Adventure and Lunacy at Niagara Falls, J & J Publishing, Buffalo, 1999. p. 14: “The water, the altitude, and the distracted mind may combine to produce what might be called a hydracropsychic effect.”
The word “hydracropsychic” was later used by Joyce Carol Oates in her book The Falls, published in 2004. In it, a fictional doctor writing a fictional letter describes “an uncanny effect called the hydracropsychic,” a “morbid condition” that has been known to “render even the will of the active, robust man in the prime of life temporarily invalid, as if under the spell of a malevolent hypnotist,” with the result, in the direst cases, that “the unfortunate victim throws himself to his doom if he is not prevented.”
See Wiktionary: Suggest a word/August 2009 for a discussion of the word hydracropsychic (you will have to scroll down the page to find it).