The worst picnics are usually topsy-turvy, and the usual picnic expectations fail to materialize. Whether or not these picnics are deliberately or accidentally upset, in reality or art, literature, and film, these picnics usually involve destruction, death, violence, and absurdity.
On June 4, 1906, the very worst picnic, because it is real, was the General Slocum, an excursion steamer that left its berth in the East River, caught fire, burned, and sank in sight of viewers on the Manhattan shore. The steamer was headed for Eaton’s Neck, Huntington, and a day of picnicking at the facilities at Locust Grove Picnic Grounds. But fifteen minutes after leaving the pier, General Slocum was hopelessly in flames. The passengers’ panic increased as it became evident that there were life vests, but the lifeboats were glued to the deck by years of accumulated paint. In desperation, the captain ran the steamer aground, but there was no miracle. One thousand and twenty-one men, women, and children died.
In the aftermath, James Joyce referenced the tragedy in Ulysses. As Crimmins, a bartender, pours a drink, he says: “Yes, sir. Terrible affair that General Slocum explosion. Terrible, terrible! A thousand casualties. And heartrending scenes. Men trampling down women and children. Most brutal thing. What do they say was the cause? Spontaneous combustion: most scandalous revelation. Not a single lifeboat would float, and the firehose all burst. What I can’t understand is how the inspectors ever allowed a boat like that…”
See: Edward T. O’Donnell. Ship Ablaze: The Tragedy of the Steamboat General Slocum. New York: Broadway Books, 2003; 20; James Joyce. Ulysses (1922).
PS: General Henry Slocum was a major general during the Civil War and later served three terms as a member of the House of Representatives from New York. He was deeply engaged in many civic projects, including serving as a commissioner overseeing the construction of the Brooklyn Bridge (1883)—under whose span the streamer sailed as it burst into flames.