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Construction Equipment of the NYS Barge Canal – The Dredge

Note- I have found well over 120 photos showing the dredges used on the construction of the NYS Barge Canal. Addition posts with more photos will follow.

The 1900s New York State Barge Canal was one of a number of “modern day” canal projects that included the Hennepin (Illinois and Mississippi), the Chicago Sanitary, the Panama, and the New York State canals. The construction of the Panama placed it in “competition” with the Barge Canal, at least in the eyes of the engineering forces working on New York’s project. So over the course of construction from 1905 to 1918, we see a very active PR campaign on the part of New York as they try not to get lost in the excitement of the isthmus canal. Thus, we have a wealth of journal articles, reports and photographs to help us understand the construction and machinery used. The engineers were very keen on getting articles in the engineering journals for all to read, and these articles went into great details about the machinery, tools, techniques, and innovations being used and developed. New York even went as far to publish a monthly Barge Canal Bulletin that chronicles the project.

And the engineer’s pride was not too far off as this large project was noteworthy for many innovations. This passage in the February 1915 issue of The Contractor gives a bit of context; “Just as the excavation of the Chicago Drainage Canal caused a great improvement in steam shovel construction, so the New York Barge Canal, with its great variety of material encountered stimulated the builders of hydraulic dredges to develop a machine capable of digging material before considered beyond the ability of this type of dredge. As a result of the experience gained in this work a great advance has been made in cutter construction.“

This look at dredges is a continuation of a series that has been examining the machinery used to construct the New York State Barge Canal between 1906 and 1918. As this project built on the machines and technologies being developed in the other canal projects of the day, what we see here would have been used on those works.

The hydraulic dredge Champlain at work on the northern end of the Champlain Canal, contract 15.

The steam powered dredge was about 30 years old when it was put to use in the various construction contracts along the NYS Barge Canal. Human and animal powered dredges had been in use as early as 1718 in Europe, but it was the development of the small “portable” steam engine that really brought them into use in earth removal.

The construction of the Barge Canal was broken up and let out as many contracts that companies could bid on. The low bidder won the bid and then set about setting up his plant. The contract might be for dredging a river, lake, or cutting a completely new channel. The machines use reflected what the contractor thought they would be excavating.

The dredge had to be suited to the materials (spoils) to be removed. “Soft” homogeneous materials such as organic muck, marl, sand, ooze, quicksand, and so on, could be removed in a steady continuous manner. Thus we find the “continuous dredge” type being used. These fall into two types; the ladder/bucket/elevator dredge, and the suction/hydraulic dredge. These dredges could remove, transport and deposit the spoils fairly quickly, making them the preferred dredge to use whenever possible. Although these machines could handle small rocks, they were not suited to removing harder materials like rock, large stone, boulders, conglomerate soils. In many cases these materials had to be drilled and blasted so that they could be removed. If possible, it was better to use a track mounted steam shovel and carry out the removal in dry conditions. However, in many cases the rock was found under softer material in a watered channel. In these cases, the steam shovel was still used, except it was mounted to a barge. As the spoil was removed scoop by scoop, this type of dredge was called an intermittent dredge. The dipper dredge and the cable operated grapple dredge fall into this type.

We will begin with the continuous types.

The Ladder Dredge

The oldest dredge type was the ladder/elevator/bucket dredge dating back to the 1700s. The name(s) comes from the design, where a long boom fitted with a endless chain of buckets. When the boom is lowered into the materials to be removed, the buckets scoop up the spoil and carry it to the top of the boom, dump it onto a system of belt conveyors, and the return as the chain revolves. The belt conveyor then carries dredging spoils to a dump scow or deposit them onto land. Since the material is removed in a continuous manner, it is considered to be a continuous dredge type.

The ladder dredge Tornado digging a new channel and using the spoils to build up the banks. Contract 12.

Ladder dredges were better suited for to a dryer environment as if the materials being removed is too loose, it could easily wash out of the bucket before it got to the conveyor. However, they are more robust in what they could handle. Ladder dredges were often seen in mining operations as they can work in dry material. By using a series of screens along the conveyor, the materials could be easily separated into various piles of different sizes. In the images we often see the ladder dredges being used to build up banks and dikes since they could pile the spoils.

This area along the canal has been prepared to receive spoils from the ladder dredge. The spoils will be used to build up the bank. Contract 66.

The working depth depended on the length of the boom and the size of the engines. In the machines we see used on the Barge Canal, each bucket weights over 2000 pounds and could scoop up 8.5-cubic-feet of materials.

Ladder dredges were extensively used on the construction of the Suez Canal, and it was what the French used in their attempt to dig the Panama Canal. When they left the project, they left behind nearly 20 of the large machines to rot in the jungle.

The Hydraulic Dredge

The first suction dredge was designed in 1867 in Europe and the first suction dredge in America followed shortly after in 1872. These machines used a large centrifugal pump to create a suction that basically vacuumed up the earth and rock. A long suction tube extended out from the bow of the dredge and was lowered into the work area. At the stern, hundreds, or even thousands, of feet of discharge pipes carried the spoil and water mix to a dump scow, landside containment area, or even dumped into non-navigation area in the river or lake. As with the ladder dredge, these are called continuous dredges.

An improvement was made to the dredge in 1878 when a revolving cutter head was fitted to the suction tube. The cutter-head could loosen harder materials and cut through organic matter. It is like the beater head on a home vacuum. To differentiate between the two types, the dredge without the cutter-head was called a suction dredge, while the one with the cutter-head was called a hydraulic dredge. Most of the machines we see in use on canal projects were hydraulic dredges, although at least one suction dredge was used to mine a sand bank for a concrete plant.

The suction dredge Veronica at work mining a sand bank. Contract 41.

The hydraulic dredge was so important to the project that a 1913 article in the Engineering News begins with this synopsis. The excavation required for enlarging the new York State Canals to form the 12-foot Barge Canal across the state amounts to 110,000,000 cubic yards. A large amount of this material is being removed by hydraulic suction dredges, which have been specially designed for the work. The record of the performances of these dredges will be of interest to every contractor and engineer who deals with earth handling.

The hydraulic dredge was remarkably robust and the spoil piles show rather large stone being removed, although this caused quiet a bit of damage to the pumps. However in the rivers and lakes, these dredges were the only option to the contractors and they had to deal with the damage.

The spoils from the hydraulic dredge Clyde on contract 47.

The major difficulty in using the hydraulic dredge was the handling of the spoil and water. Low areas near the project site would be selected and perimeter dikes would be built. As the slurry was pumped into the disposal area, the water was allowed to escape and (hopefully) return to the river. But as the dikes were often hastily constructed, they could break and cause the surrounding area to be flooded with the muddy mess.

The Dipper and Grapple Dredge

Although the hydraulic dredge was the principle tool in the contractors toolbox, it was not suited to all materials. In places were rock ledge, hardpan, or conglomerate materials had to be removed, the dipper or grapple dredge was placed in service.

This dipper dredge is at work loaded a scow. Contract 19.

The dipper dredge was basically a steam shovel mounted on a barge and like its land bound cousin, it’s large bucket could lift large pieces of blasted rock, boulders, or scoop gravels. Since the spoil was removed one bucket at a time, these fall into the intermittent type. In the photos, these are often seen working along with drilling rigs and blasting teams. The spoils were placed into dump scows or landside dump trains, or simply cast aside if space allowed. The working depth was limited by the length of the boom and the stability of the boat.

The dipper dredge Hurricane at work on the State Ditch at Jack’s Reef. Note the drilling rig at work preparing the rock ledge for blasting. The dredge loads a dump train. Contract 12.

The grapple dredge was a cable crane mounted on a barge and outfitted with a clamshell or orange-peel bucket. (The orange-peel was a round bucket with 4 sections that was very good at sinking into soft materials.) This was the slowest of all the dredge types and was used in small projects. The clamshell was good for lifting large rock and stone, whereas the orange-peel was used to remove softer materials.

The grapple dredge Teddy fitted with a clam shell bucket. The dredge is being used to line the canal bank with rip-rap. Contract 19.

These dredges were large machines with steam engines, pumps, electrical generators, winches and so on. Unlike the steam shovel that could be moved to the work site by rail, the dredge was typically built on site, used, and then disassembled. Depending on the size of the work fleet, the contractor might have set up a drydock, such as what Stewart, Kerbaugh and Shenley constructed at Brewerton, west of Oneida Lake.(3) Many of the dredges were built by well known companies such as Bucyrus, Marion, Morris, American Locomotive, and sent to the project site as a pre-built kit. As each dredge was custom built, each has its own unique appearance. Some dredges were handsome boats while other had a more “rustic” look. The dredge was typically given a name that reflected the region of their work. Thus we see the Clyde near Clyde, Niagara in the west, Canajoharie in the Mohawk River, etc.

The hull of the Fairport being constructed in the winter of 1911.

By March 1911, the dredge was fairly complete.

Each dredge was staffed with a crew that could number up to 15 men per shift. These included a captain or foreman, assistant, operator, fireman for the steam engine, mechanics, line handlers, men to shift the pipes, and others. If the crew ran 24-hours, the total crew could easily number around 40. To feed and house all these men, a floating crew quarters was used.

The crew of the all-electric Fairport pose for the photographer. The dredge was powered by a land-side generating station. Contract 63.

None of the dredges were self-propelled and had to be moved by tug boat. At the work site, long spuds would be lowered to anchor the dredge in place and to help steady it as it worked. The boom of the ladder and hydraulic dredge could only be raised and lowered, so to move the boom through the earth, the entire boat would be “swept” from side to side. To do this, cables would be attached to anchor points, one spud would be raised, and by winching the cable in, the dredge could be moved to that side. Then the process was reversed for the other side. As the spuds were raised and lowered, the dredge would “walk” forward.

This is just an introduction to the topic of dredges and dredging. But the photos tell the real story.

References-

All the photos used here are from – Barge Canal Construction Photos, Series 11833, New York State Archives, Albany, NY.

Barge Canal Bulletin, New York State, 1908-1918.

Hydraulic Dredging on the New York Barge Canal, Engineering News, Vol 69, No 15. page 710.

Prelini, Charles. Dredges and Dredging. D.Van Nostrand Company, NY , 1911

Engineering News- July 29, 1909 The Excavating and Dredging Outfit on the Oneida River Section, Contract No. 12 of the New York State Barge Canal. Page 111

Lanyon, Richard. Building The Canal To Save Chicago, 2012

Gigantic Feats For Engineers. The Syracuse Herald, April 18, 1909.

Breaks World’s Record. Baldwinsville Gazette and Farmer, November 18, 1909.

Big Dredge Is Built. The Chicago Sunday Tribune, October 20, 1895.

Report of Organizer Whitcraft, Steam Shovel and Dredge, Chicago, Illinois, August, 1908. Page 581.

Allen, Jean M. The Hydraulic Dredge; Its Value as a Contractor’s Tool, The Contractor, Vol 21, No. 4, February 15, 1915, page 26.

Your Collection, and What Happens To It?

It is likely that if you are a history enthusiast or a genealogist, you have a collection. It might be books, photos, slides, documents, artifacts, maps, (or whatever), but I bet that you have a pile of it somewhere. Perhaps in many rooms? Have you added rooms for your collection? And, I will bet that at some point you, or your loved ones, will want to dispose of said collection. It happens. It is a fact of life. So why talk about it? Well sadly, we seem to be going through a point of time when the baby-boomers are passing on and many of these collections are looking for new homes.

As a amateur historian who serves as a town historian and the president of a couple historical groups, I have a rule of thumb when it comes to personal collections. Your stuff has deep meaning to you. You recall finding and acquiring it, studying it, showing it off and boring your friends and family with it. Your kids might have some memory of going off with you on your explorations, or recall the folks in the photos, or even have picked up your hobby. But, it is not their stuff. They might hold onto it, but it isn’t theirs. And if they happen to hold onto it, by the time your grandkids inherit it, it is simply stuff and clutter. At that point it will go to the nearest auction site, Ebay, or garage sale. Or, in some tragic cases, it all gets chucked in the trash bin as no one wants to deal with it.

Over the past few years I have been involved with packing up and removing a few personal collections after the death of the owner. It is a sad thing to see a lifetime of collecting, preservation and study reduced to a few (or many) boxes. And yet, that is what it becomes. So, the question for you, dear reader, is, “do you care what happens to it?” Or, “Do your loved ones know what you want to do with it?”

And let me be very honest. Sadly, death often brings out the worst in every family as relatives begin circling around estimating the value of this and that, and how much money they will be receiving. If you don’t want that to happen, begin your planning now.

So what is of value? And as this is a canal organization, I will focus on canals, but it applies to all collections. Unless you are a collector of rare books and maps, your library of canal titles may be of little value as most organizations already have them. Books can be of some value if they can be sold on the used market and the money used to aid the organization, but, make certain that your will specifies that things can be sold if not needed.

So what else might be important? Have you conducted research, written articles or books, or taken photos throughout the years? If so, all these original manuscript materials might be of value to an organization. Those old slides can be wonderful treasures. And now that we are 30 years into digital cameras, make sure that your list includes your hard-drives or at least a copy of your electronic canal photos.

So what to do? Well, let me say first to check with your family to see if they want it. And if they do, well then all is good. If they don’t want it and you don’t care, then tell them to have a sale and split the money. However, if you want it to be donated, then say this in your will and tell your family! Then speak with your lawyer to make sure that whatever the decision is, that it is spelled out it your will.

But before saying that you want the so-and-so historical society to be the new owner, be sure to ask the intended recipient if they would enjoy being the benefactor of your good intentions. Some groups don’t have the desire, room, money or manpower to deal with a collection. For instance, at my local historical society we often get donations of “old things,” and unless they fit into our mission, they are either given away or sold. We will try to find homes for items that we feel have value, but there are plenty of old Sad irons out there, and believe me, we have enough!

When you ask about possible donations, the organization will likely want to know what you have, so make an inventory and catalog your collection. It makes it so much easier to use when you are alive, and when you are gone, the inventory can be useful in deciding what goes where. Also remember to include any documentation that might go with a rare or important item, and include the provenance if you know it.

Once the physical stuff is set and safe, turn your thoughts to your computer and digital presence. Do you have a list of user names and passwords? If you are running an organization, can others find the legal forms? In one case I had to write letters and send death certificates to gain access to a website, whereas a simple password would have made things very easy. Plus, if you are active on the internet and run a website, do you care what happens once you stop writing and paying for the website? If you do, look into a service that will host your inactive website. With an upfront payment, you can ensure a number of years of continued web presence.

It is never easy or fun to think about what happens after you are gone. But, it isn’t really fair to leave it up to your loved ones to decide what happens with all your stuff. Make plans now.

The Changing Landscape of Lock 2 in Akron, Ohio

The history of a canal doesn’t stop when the canal is abandoned. As long as the canal, or parts of it are present, what happens after maintenance stops becomes part of the story.

Canal historians have been aware of this and have been keeping track of the changing landscapes. By finding a vantage point and returning year after year to document the site, the changes to the landscape can be recorded. And if the canal or lock or aqueduct is gone one year, well then, at least it was documented for the future generations.

Terry Woods worked in Akron and was able to document the changes to Lock 2, mostly from West State Street, between 1964 and 1986. He also wandered down to the locks and took a couple shots of what was to the north.

1980- Terry labeled this one as “destroying the lock.” Maybe he thought that they were.

1982- This was from the south side. You can see the West State bridge and another building that is no longer present.

1967- looking north from lock. The building appears to have been built over the canal route.

This last one is from Google Maps. I “drove” over West State and looked south. The changes are remarkable.

If I run across any more in the Woods collection I will be sure to add them to this post.

Terry K Woods Canal Comments- Driving Along The Tuscarawas in 1907

Terry’s introduction- Last Saturday the Canal Society of Ohio held its annual spring tour of a portion of Ohio Canal Land. This tour ran from Newcomerstown on the Ohio & Erie to Coshocton then up the Walhonding Canal to the Muskingum Conservancy’s 1935 “answer” to the 1913 flood – The Mohawk Dam.

The first portion of the tour went from Coshocton along the River Route (there is a shorter Hill Route) through Canal Lewisville to Newcomerstown. As luck would have it, I recently ran across something I’ve had in my files for many years, an account of a motor tour from Coshocton to Newcomerstown in 1907! Apparently I had never read it thoroughly before as, buried in its contents, was reference to a mill at Wild Turkey Lock (No. 25) and another one, probably at Lock 24.

Anyway, I thought you might like to have a look at the Ohio Canal, the roads, and the Tuscarawas River in the wild (then and still little bit now) section of Coshocton County.

UP THE TUSCARAWAS – 1907.^ⁱ

John promised to meet us at the corner Main and Forth Streets at 7am sharp, but we knew that was to avoid contention. Seven is not on his day trick. His folks have no knowledge of his ever having seen the sun as early as seven. If he had his way he’d have it rise at 9 instead of 5.

By an extraordinary struggle with the bed covers, he managed to turn the corner at 8:15, but not with that dash and exuberance of spirits characteristic of him when a party of the other sex awaits him. His look seemed to say that this thing is going to be mighty monotonous with nothing but men. And he began to recite his fears as to one of the tires, a leak in the water tank, the weather, the obstinacy of the sparker and other vicissitudes of autoing; but to no avail, for we insisted on going at all hazards.

We started up the River Road for West Lafayette. The Hill Road is the shorter; but the camera whispered something about the river, the canal and the old locks – the picturesque things.

John held the throttle. Ed puffed clouds of smoke from his two-fors, with nothing on his mind but a derby, while C. M. and the writer kept a sharp lookout for the pretty spots.

We dashed across the Tuscarawas river bridge into that uncertain triangular piece of land between Coshocton and Roscoe and the Tuscarawas and Walhonding rivers, known as “The Forks.” Circling around the mill, we started up the river bottoms along the fields of corn, but not without a look back over our shoulders at picturesque Roscoe, holding on to the steep hillside.

Roscoe is the quaint old canal metropolis of Coshocton county, now more of a residential adjunct to Coshocton.

The water power from the Walhonding canal rolls the wheels of two flouring mills and a planning mill only, but is being harnessed by the State for greater things. The Coshocton Electric Light Company will build a mammoth power plant where the water spills over into the river below.^ⁱⁱ

Roscoe always appeals to the artist, with its quaint, old early-canal-day buildings backed up against the canal. Much oil and water-color has been spread over its scenes; and being stuck up on a hillside, it affords some remarkable birdseye views of three rivers, two canals, three basins, an aqueduct and a railway trestle, to say nothing of the hills and valleys leading out in various directions, and the busy city of Coshocton across the two rivers.

The Forks is rich in Indian history. The two races met here in the early days, but did not always harmonize and go off together as peacefully as the Walhonding and the Tuscarawas into the Muskingum below. Much blood was shed in the primeval forests of this neighborhood.

The Forks is near the site of the capital of the Delawares. Here it was the objective point of the Bouquet treaty in 1764 and the scene of the famous Bouquet expedition of the War of the Revolution, sometimes known as the Coshocton Campaign. While up along the valleys of the Walhonding, Tuscarawas and Muskingum are many other points of interest in Indian history, as well as several evidences of the Mound Builders time.

A few explosions of gasoline and we were in Canal Lewisville, a little canal hamlet with enough of the ramshackle to make a good picture. We stopped the automobile just right for a flock of geese on the towing path to pose beautifully and kept their eyes on Ed as they were requested.

The run from Canal Lewisville to the West Lafayette bridge is a delightful one. First the road is on one side of the canal, and then the other while the river whips up close one minute and the next shies off around that big bend then disappears among the Sycamores. Among the refreshing local places that marked our progress up the canal are McGuire’s Grove, Wild Turkey lock, Rush Island Pond and Shaw’s Bottoms.

Wild Turkey Lock was once the seat of a flouring mill. The writer remembers in his boyhood some delightful trips to the mill with the “hired hand.” The turtles slipped into the water so interestingly, and the canal boats in those days pointed their prows around the bend more majestically than a big ship breaks over the horizon into New York harbor now, from the standpoint of the same observer.

Leaving the canal bank and turning south at the river bridge, near the mouth of White Eyes creek, we made a bee line for West Lafayette, passing Plain Hill – an eminence set out on the plain like a long mound, from which peculiarity it gets its name.

West Lafayette is a thriving town of a thousand people, and has two enamel and two wooden novelty factories. Besides, it is a college town, the seat of West Lafayette College, a well known, but youthful institution of higher learning. West Lafayette has a splendid location – a high gravelly plain, surrounded by a beautiful framework of gentle hills about a mile away, both north and south, and without a “wash” or other harsh lines on them to mar the land-scape. To the writer, it has another charm. It is his home – the effulgence which does not depend upon rural beauty or commercial progress.

Going directly east from West Lafayette we went through that part of the Tuscarawas valley known as White Eyes Plains, a valley from a mile to nearly two miles wide, fine farm land and thickly settled.

But for the picturesque we turned off at Waggoner’s Corner for the river and the canal, and more particularly to the old canal town of Orange, which now has but eight families. In fact it never had a metropolitan population. As a post office, the town of Orange was first known as White Eyes Plain, and later Evansburgh. But now a rural route has invaded the place and made it unnecessary to dignify some citizen with the title of postmaster. Here we saw signs of the revival of the old canal, in the building of a new swing bridge. Up the canal farther the improvements are more frequent. The little canal towns expect to see more of the mules again.

The West Lafayette to Orange trip could be made by another route, passing the famous Blue Hole, The Falls, the lock where once stood the Emerson mill and other picturesque delights of the eye along a popular stretch of river for fishermen and campers.

A little east of Orange is the site of a much older town, Evansburg, long since obliterated by old age and a cyclone – once quite a busy place, whither farmers brought their wheat to be shipped out on the canal.

From Orange we turned back on The Plains, passing the old “Rock Fort,” a small stone building with rifle portholes through its walls, now very old and crumbling. It has received a good deal of attention in recent years from the photographers and historically inclined. It is said by some to have been built by the Evanses, the first settlers; yet the scions of that family seem to know nothing about it. Its mystery is its charm, and we have no disposition to investigate too far for fear that no Indians were ever shot from its portholes and that its purpose was more mill than blood.

Passing Isleta, a neat one-store hamlet on the Pennsylvania railroad, we flew up the Plains through clouds of dust towards Newcomerstown.

West of Newcomerstown we struck the Antietem of river destruction known as the Miskimen Bottoms. Here the river has changed its course every time it looked like rain, and keeps the Coshocton county commissioners perplexed almost as much as their second terms. The first mark of it is the long double-barreled Miskimen wooden bridge, spanning a pasture field. It is a Puckingham Truss and was built by the Hagertys of Nashport, in the fifties.

From this bridge we follow a big “fill” where some adjoining farms have been hauled in to put the road above high water. Next we strike the iron bridge, the second built on this spot, the first going down in the flood of 1903. Here the river makes angry swipes at both ends of the bridge and has drained all Central Ohio of piling and sandstone, and is still whipping her tail in her violent demands for more appropriations. At this point there are in operation several teams. Making a short cut in the river and at the same time making a road above high water for nearly a half mile at the other end of the bridge. And an abutment for another span of the bridge is now being built.

A little further east we cross a fill through a pool of deep blue water. This marks the spot of another old wooden bridge, which spanned the Tuscarawas in one of its fickle moods in the Miskimen Bottoms.

Newcomerstown is a growing town of nearly four thousand people. It has one immense factory, the Clew & Company pipe works, which employ several hundred men and a file factory, some brick factories and other smaller concerns. It has two newspapers, two banks, a new park donated by George Mulvane and many other city airs.

This town gets its name from a tradition. The old chief of the Indian village at the upper end of the present site of the town brought home from one of his expeditions a white wife, number two who was called the “newcomer.” Wife number one was not pleased with the situation and effectively used a tomahawk on the newcomer, thus establishing a good healthy tradition.

Three or four miles east of Newcomerstown is the site of a depopulated mining town called Glasgow, a little off the Port Washington Road. It was a settlement in connection with an iron mine which was opened there by a Scotch company along in the seventies. The mine proved a failure. It is said the iron cost $2.50 per ton more than it brought. The young men in charge were sons of the rich Scotch owners and spent money lavishly. One of them was a Coates, of the Coates thread manufacturing people of Glasgow. A well known Newcomerstown man tells of them paying him five dollars for holding their horses while they called on some friends. In time the rich fathers grew tired of the way things were going and stopped the flow of gold, which, it is said, had reached nearly three millions of dollars. At one time this little village of Glasgow had one thousand people.

Just this side of Port Washington, a mile or so, we passed the site of the little Norman settlement of Salem, where some authorities claim was born the first white child in Ohio. There is nothing left to mark the place.

Port Washington is another little Tuscarawas valley town of about five hundred people. It has a nicely shaded one-hundred-feet main street and an open square. It did have two woodwork factories. Both are now in ashes. It is a canal “port,” but the Pennsylvania railroad is nowadays getting the most travel.

Leaving Port Washington, we continued up the valley, the road keeping north of the canal, on the opposite side from the river. There is no special mark of industry before reaching Lock 17, except the Buchler Bro’s tile works, which is as isolated from any town as a sheep barn. The drive is just rural scenery – corn, wheat, canal, river, hills, wild flox, elderberries, cat tails, cattle and pond lilies.

Lock 17 is a hamlet with a mill, a store and a railroad station, and barely enough people to keep the village storekeeper from getting lonesome rainy days and Saturday nights. Here the general farming is varied somewhat by tomatoes and the like, and there is a big glass covered house on the hillside for the early growth of tomato plants and lettuce.

One mile farther, we reach our destination, Ganadenhutten, and dinner, which latter function was delayed because of so much photography en route and an hour and a half’s perplexity near Newcomerstown over the loss of a bolt. When one loses a bolt of an automobile he has a much greater respect for horses and other beasts of burden.

Leaving the village hotel we stopped at the local cemetery and the monuments to the over 90 ‘converted’ Christian Indians who were massacred by Pittsburgh militiamen.

Our return trip was almost as refreshing as the first. Up the Tuscarawas and down the Tuscarawas are two different panoramas. Either is charming in its variety. You pass the vestibule train and the weary canal boat. You pass the palatial home and the log cabin, covered with the wild trumpet vine. You ride along broad sweeps of waving corn and you hug some hillside under the shade of the oaks and the projecting coal chutes and berry bushes.

Variety – charming variety, everywhere. No moment do you know the full charm of the scene that will greet you around the turn as you fly along the Tuscarawas Valley.

As we ran down the Plains it was nearing sunset. The rabbits were bolder, and the lovers, too. The latter sat closer as the sun was going down. Some of the worsted had a continuous effect over the buggy seat, which situation had to be readjusted when the horse began to recognize the automobile, but the love of one young swain near Port Washington was sufficient to hold his horse with only one hand.

As the evening shades were growing deep, we reached “the Experimental Farm,” the home of the writer, and John, Ed, and C. M. went on their last eight miles by the Hill Road to our starting point, Coshocton.

i Up The Tuscarawas, by Harry Ferguson. OHIO MAGAZINE, March, 1907 Pgs 422-427.

ii The water from the Walhonding Canal emptied into Roscoe Basin.

Canal Comments- The Last Ohio Canal Boatman on the Miami and Erie Canal, by Terry K. Woods

Editor’s note- The late Dr. Karen Grey coined a phrase called “Zombie History,” where incorrect history is handed down through the generations, and it is accepted and repeated as truth. Terry does a bit of Zombie History killing in this Canal Comments about the “last” boatman on the Miami and Erie Canal. Here is his article with his own introduction.

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A week or so ago I ran across an item on the Internet titled, the Last Ohio Canal Boat. I copied it in the hope of using it as a column. BUT, the history was so inaccurate that I thought it might have been written as a “joke”. In this account the number of locks mentioned between Akron and Cleveland were wrong. And it stated the first boat on the Ohio Canal left Akron on July 1st, when it is well documented that it left Akron the day before the opening ceremonies of that first stretch of the Ohio Canal on July 4th.

AND, the author of that “joke piece” stated that “the clarinet became the instrument of the canal.” I, personally can’t imagine a canal boatman giving up his Banjo or Violin for a clarinet, or even recognizing one.

But. subsequent browsing through the Internet produced a couple of articles that contained a bit on “The last Boatman on the Miami & Erie Canal”. So. I’ve written today’s column using that topic and the information from those two articles, plus a bit of general knowledge about the Miami & Erie Canal.

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THE LAST OHIO CANAL BOATMAN ON THE MIAMI & ERIE CANAL^ⁱ

There was no ceremony and little notice when the last canal boat pulled out of Hamilton over 100 years ago. In fact, the man who claimed to have been the captain on that final run, later, wasn’t entirely sure of the exact date when he, Bertus Havens, tried to recall that unheralded experience on the Miami & Erie Canal.

“She was the LADY HAMILTON, built at a boat yard in Hamilton” (now considered a suburb of Cincinnati) as was stated in a letter Bertus wrote in 1974, recalling what he believed to be that last trip from Hamilton.

In a later interview Haven’s stated that, “I pulled her from what is now the intersection of High Street and Erie Highway here in Hamilton, . . . down to Lockland’s Collector’s Locks. There, another crew took her down to Cincinnati, just below 12th. Street.” After her cargo was unloaded, wheels were placed under the LADY HAMILTON and she was towed the short distance to the Ohio River. From there she was transported to Chicago for service on the Illinois & Michigan Canal.

Havens, who rather enjoyed his self-proclaimed title of the “last boatman on the Miami & Erie Canal” was born on January 27, 1882 in Hamilton, when the canal was already in decline. It had been opened from Middletown south to Hamilton by August of 1827, and later extended to Cincinnati. Eventually, through a series of extensions, the canal connected the Ohio River at Cincinnati to Lake Erie at Toledo.

The Miami Canal was begun with a ground-breaking on July 21, 1825 on Daniel Doty’s farm, then south of Middletown. By August 1827, trips between Hamilton and Middletown were possible. The canal reached Cincinnati later that year. Eventually, through two expansion projects, the canal connected the Ohio River at Cincinnati with Lake Erie at Toledo. In January, 1849, the Ohio State Legislature renamed the Miam Canal and the various extensions, as the Miami & Erie Canal.

The Miami & Erie Canal experienced a great “run of traffic” both freight and passengers for a number of years. But in 1851, the Cincinnati, Hamilton & Dayton Railroad was completed and the bulk of passengers and freight in the area soon were being transferred from the canal to the railroad, and traffic on 249 mile long Miami & Erie Canal fell off drastically.

There was an attempted rebuild of the Miami & Erie and the northern section of the Ohio & Erie from 1905 through 1909. But the appropriations, and public support ran out at the end of the 1909 construction season and the rebuild was not continued. Then the devastating March 1913 flood ended all hopes of resuming long distance traffic on Ohio’s towpath canals.

Havens, at age 21, was in Troop H, 8th U.S. Cavalry, at Jefferson Barracks, south of St. Louis, about to begin an 18 month tour in the Philippines. Later, he was a mounted policeman in Cheyenne, Wyoming, before returning to Hamilton to work on the Miami & Erie Canal in its final years.

That portion of the canal Havens worked on was near the end of its lifetime when he worked on it. “The traffic was light and about to end”, he said. “Drivers were being paid $18.00 a month, plus board, while I was employed on the canal.

“I worked for awhile with what they called the ‘Electric Mule’, which was a failure,” he recalled. “They tried to pull two and three boats at a time, which was O.K. if they went slow, each boat behind the other.”

“But when they would try to go fast, it would push all the water ahead of the boats, and then the rear boats slid on the muddy bottom and the tow line would break. Then the boats would stop, the water would rush back, and the boats would just bob around.”

The Electric Mules were small electric-powered railway locomotives used in an attempt to replace horses and mules to pull canal boats. This new system also required the installation of rails and overhead trolley wires along the towpath. The rails also interfered with the easy passing of standard horses and mules.

Havens apparently left the canal after his “Last Canal Boatman“ trip and was later employed by the U.S. Navy as an instrument maker for 30 years, working at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii from 1940 to 1952.

Bertus Garfield Havens died on November 12, 1981 in Campbell California, less than three months before his 100th birthday. He is buried in Greenwood Cemetery in Hamilton under a tombstone that proudly proclaims the he was the “Last of the Canal Boatmen” on the Miami & Erie Canal!

BUT! I can’t wonder about the men that “took over” the LADY HAMILTON” on those final few miles into Cincinnati back in 1907 or 08.

AND! Additional research has uncovered a small paragraph in a piece put on the Internet by the Butler County Lane Library that states, in part, “Freight boats disappeared from the canal by the early 1900s, and long-distance passenger service vanished before that. And then the 1913 flood demolished a number of upstream locks and destroyed miles of the canal’s channel. It is believed that a final excursion boat on the Cincinnati section of the canal was made hosting a party for a gathering of the “Free Settlers,” a society made up exclusively of men, and apparently dedicated to “the proposition” of beer drinking. That voyage began, on July 27, 1917, “fittingly”, at the Gerke Brewery on the canal’s Plumb Street Bend, and ended at Bruckman’s, near the Ludlow Aqueduct”.

But since the names of the boatmen who took the LADY HAMILTON down to Cincinnati, and any captain of the beer drinker’s craft is lost in antiquity, let’s all say that Bertus Garfield Haven was the “Last Boatmen on the Miami & Erie Canal”. After all, it says so on his tombstone!

i Much of the information for this column came from, “Last Miami-Erie Canal Boatman”, By Jim Blount, and “MIAMI-ERIE CANAL” – The Lane Library, Butler County, both copied from the internet on February 1, 2022.

Sandy and Beaver Notes from Vodrey and Gard

Elsewhere on this site you will find a post about selling some recently discovered books; The Sandy and Beaver Canal, written by William H. Vodrey and Max Gard. Along with the books came a small folder with some notes the men had gathered as they researched the canal. It is a mix of hotel reservation notes, some lock locations and a listing of canal boats and their masters. For those researching the canal, this might have clues to potential research locations.

These are all in pdf files, so you will need to click on the link. Each file has anywhere from 2 to 5 pages.

001- Miscellaneous notes

002- Paper mill history

003- Mills and Locks

004 – Location of locks

005- An 1806 article from Browne’s Western Calendar about Columbiana County

006- An article about Spruceville

007- The Sunlit Road by Tom T. Jones

008- A 1948 letter from M. Rubiena Ikirt with a listing of boats and the masters, circa 1847- 1848

009- A listing of boats and masters, circa 1849-1852

010- A 1948 hotel reservation, notes for a talk about the Rebecca Furnace, and a 1946 announcement for the Salem Hobby Show.

Canal Comments- The P&O Canal Talk by Terry K. Woods

This Canal Comments was a bit unusual as it was a list of bullet-points that Terry used to guide a talk he gave. I don’t know if he used a slide show along with this talk. So aside from cleaning up the format, I left it as it was sent.

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Hi Guys:

This column is in the form of a set of note cards I made for a talk I gave to the Monroe Falls Historical Society back in May of 2008. This was before the Damn Busters destroyed the dam in the Cuyahoga River and they had to change the name of the town to Monroe Ripples.

The last time the subject of this column was the P & O Canal, I received a lot of replies, so maybe there is a bit of interest there. To the best of my knowledge, there never has been a book written on that canal. Over the years several people have planned to write one and done a lot of work, but no book as yet.

So here is the ‘complete’ history of that canal – in less than 1,300 words! Maybe it will inspire someone to write that book.

P & O Canal Talk – May 8, 2008^ⁱ

The interior Ohio towns of Warren and Ravenna were “left off” the route of the Ohio Canal.

Warren became a “hotbed” of Anti-Canal sentiment.

Alfred Kelley “promised” Simon Perkins (one of the leaders in the area), “every assistance” in approving a branch canal into his area. Perkins stood away from the anti-canal movement.

Local meetings were held to propose a canal between the Ohio and Pennsylvania systems throughout 1825 and 1826.

The state legislatures in Ohio and Pa. passed acts in Jan. and April 1827 granting a charter for a private company to build such a canal

Early in 1827, the Ohio State Legislature authorized The Board of Public Works (Kelley) to run surveys of a proposed canal connecting the Ohio & Pennsylvania canal systems. Sebried Dodge’s survey. Reported in January, 1828. Additional Surveys were run through 1832.

A meeting was held in Warren, Ohio on Oct. 1, 1833 with representatives from Pittsburgh and Philadelphia to determine which of three proposed “crosscuts’ they would support financially S & B Canal, P & O Canal, P & O RR. (P & O Canal ‘won’)

The Pa. canal connection hadn’t yet been finalized so the P & O Canal Co. decided to delay opening subscription books.

The Beaver Division of the PA Canal (from Rochester to New Castle) was authorized in 1834.

Finally, in 1835, the Canal Company Directors had the charters renewed in Ohio and PA and, in April, stock books were opened.

$1,000,000 of stock was subscribed by the end of May, 1835. The first meeting of stockholders of the P & O Canal Company took Place in New Castle PA on May 2, 1835. Officers and a Board of Directors were elected.

Engineers Sebried Dodge (Ohio) and James Harris (Pa.) were appointed and new surveys began on June 8, 1835.

Initial contracts were let, beginning at the PA Junction, in August of 1835. At the time these contracts were let, the western division ran through Middlebury and connected with the Ohio Canal at about the present site of the old Goodrich complex.

Early in 1836, the western division was changed considerably. It ran through the village of Cuyahoga Falls, into the Akron Mill Race and joined the Ohio Canal at the Lower Basin in Akron near the current baseball park.

The line of the canal was divided into an eastern division (from the Junction with the Beaver Division) to the Trumbull/Portage County Line – 45 ½ miles. The western division ran from the Portage/Trumbull County line to Akron and The Ohio Canal – 38 miles.

The country entered a deep economic ‘Panic’ in 1837. By the 11th of May only $290,000 of the subscribed $1,000,000 had been collected. Lack of funds and a Cholera epidemic among canal workers caused work to be suspended for several months that year, and next.

The Loan (Plunder) Law of 1836 authorized the State of Ohio to purchase up to half the stock in a company that had stock subscriptions of at least $1,000,000. Ohio pledged $420,000 in 1837 to the P & O Canal Company. The State of PA. pledged $50,000 in 1839.

These monies weren’t always paid promptly to the canal company’s treasury, But the project kept moving when others were shut down.

The P & O Canal opened from Junction to Ravenna in the fall of 1839 and through to Akron in April of 1840.

It was an immediate success. The initial feeder system at the summit was designed to handle from 40 to 60 boats a day. This limit was reached in 1843 and additional reservoirs were constructed during the next two years.

The canal line was divided into four sections for maintenance purposes. One, from Akron to Campbellsport – 24 miles. Two, from Campbellsport to Warren – 23 miles. Three, from Warren to Kimballs – 20 miles. Four from Kimballs to Junction – 16 miles.

Four new maintenance boats were constructed, but the entire engineering staff was ‘let go’.

Annual reports never detailed maintenance expenses which amounted to $0,000 to $12,000 per year.

The western division carried a great deal of farm and dairy products and built up the countryside. Coal and iron ore deposits from Girard to Youngstown resulted in a great industrial complex being built along the line of the eastern division.

Merchandise from the east flowed directly through the P & O to Akron and Cleveland. Akron receipts rose from ½ million #s in 1841 to 2.4 million by 1850. 1/3 to ½ of all canal receipts received in Cleveland came via the P & O by 1850.

Passenger packets operated on the P & O from 1840 thru 1852 with a peak of 8,481 passengers traveling on the canal in 1844.

Modest dividends of 1 or 2% a year were paid to the stockholders during the 40s and early 50s for a total of about 15%. 2 ¾% dividends were paid during the peak years of 1849 and 1850.

The Erie Extension Canal opened from Newcastle to Erie in 1844 and gave the P & O considerable competition to Lake Erie. The P & O and the Erie had a lively toll rate ‘war’ for a number of years.

Railroad competition began in 1852 in the form of the Cleveland &Pittsburgh RR. Most passenger and “rapid freight” traffic disappeared from the canal after this date.

Directors of the proposed Cleveland & Mahoning RR gained control of the canal in 1854. When this RR opened in 1857, canal tolls were raised by 50%, shifting most remaining traffic to the RR

In 1855 one arch of the stone aqueduct at Newton Falls had collapsed and a temporary wooden truss and trough constructed to maintain traffic. An engineer was hired by the company and his report detailed the poor physical condition of many of the canal structures. Dividends were cut in an attempt to gather a sufficient sum to effect repairs. The canal’s physical condition continued to worsen.

Under RR control, canal income for 1858 was half of what it had been in 1857. The RR attempted to legally abandon the canal in 1858, but a decision was handed down that attempts to close any portion of the canal would result in a loss of the charter.

Income in 1861 was $13,000 (66% less than in 1857) while maintenance costs totaled $16,000.

The legislature was petitioned in 1861 to authorize partial sale of the canal and abandonment of the rest, but no action was taken.

In January 1863, the state of Ohio sold it’s stock in the P & O Canal (original cost $420,000) for $35,000 to the C & M RR.

Ohio and PA authorized the closure of the P & O canal in March and April 1867.

Portions of the western division remained open for hydraulic purposes until 1872. Short stretches of the eastern division carried boating until 1872. The Middlebury Branch was used sporadically through 1873.

The P & O Canal was officially sold to the Cleveland & Mahoning RR In 1873. Canal right-of way & stone sold and distributed to various railroad lines thru 1879.

The original mill race in Akron was “sold” to Akron Millers in 1873 and ran beneath the streets of Akron well into the 20th. century.

J.H. Devereaux (Receiver) closed the books on the P & O Canal Company with an $812.84 Check to F.E. Pittman, Treasurer of the New York, Pennsylvania and Ohio RR. Co. on January 31, 1882.

i Note cards from a talk given to the Monroe Falls Historical Society.

Book Review- Canals For A Nation; The Canal Era in the United States 1790-1860 by Ronald E. Shaw

At one time the United States had over 4,500 miles of canals and navigations, and one of the longstanding goals of the American Canal Society has been to promote and educate about all these waterways. Many of these canals were connected, not only physically where a boat could move from one to another, but by the engineers, contractors, financiers, laborers and politicians, all who advocated for their construction and then moved from one to another to see that they were built.

I recently reread the book, Canals For A Nation, by Ronald E. Shaw (1990). I first read it decades ago and found that it remains a wonderfully written book. It perhaps has more meaning now that my understanding of canals has grown after many years of study. Shaw weaves the history of all the canals of the United States together, showing inter-connectivity of those American canals built in the canal era, which Shaw defines as 1790-1860. If you are a person who just gazes out upon your local or state canal as The Canal, Shaw gently proves that you are missing a large piece of the canal puzzle.

The book seamlessly weaves from one canal to the next. The book only has seven chapters that takes the reader through the canal era. Shaw begins with the Pioneer Canals and Republican Improvements, and then shows how those early efforts led to the canals of the Great Lakes to Atlantic: New York and New England, down to the Mid-Atlantic: Pennsylvania and New Jersey, then to the Chesapeake and Southern Canals, and finishing with the Canals of the Northwest. He wraps all these up with The Canal Network and the Canal Era in Politics and Economic Development. This last chapter hones in on how canals could be considered economic engines and community builders, even when they were considered to be financial failures.

Mr. Shaw presents those 70 years of history in 237 pages, which means that his narrative moves fairly quickly. In fact, Canals For A Nation is basically a guide that presents to you all the canals, and if you find that your interest has been tweaked, you can glance at the extensive notes, bibliographical essay and index, to find more in-depth resources for further study (at least those that had been published up to 1990). He also presents a nice map of all the canals in the inside cover to help you find your way around the network.

If you are new to canals or have been around for a bit, go find a copy of this book and give it a read. If you are one of those folks who only wants to study Your Canal, you might find this book to be eye-opening. There are new and used copies out there and the book deserves to be in your library.

Canal Comments- The Big Ditch; An Outlet To The Seven Seas, by Terry K. Woods

Editors Note- I tried to find this article online and was not successful. So I don’t know if it was broken up into so many paragraphs or if that was Terry’s work. Anyhow, this is how he send it. It is quite a long article for a newspaper and makes me wonder if it was spread out over multiple days. There are a few words missing at the beginning of one paragraph.

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Terry’s Introduction- A couple of weeks ago, Tim Botos of the Canton repository had a three article event on Transportation in Stark County. He concentrated on three transportation routes, the Ohio Canal, the Lincoln Highway, and Route I-77. That made me think of a 1941 Repository article I ran across several years ago while compiling listings of the Massillon Museum’s clipping file. This 1941 article described the benefits to the county and area brought about by the county’s canals and railroads – and how local business benefited from modern transportation. Oddly enough, roads were not mentioned.

So I’ve copied that very good 1941 article for today’s CANAL COMMENTS column, only adding some footnotes to insert an historical fact over an historical legend here and there.

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THE CANTON REPOSITORY: March 31, 1940, with footnotes by T.K. Woods, Feb. 2011.

Canals came to Ohio – to Stark County – and with them an exciting era. The Legislature on February 4, 1825 authorized the Ohio & Erie system, by way of the Tuscarawas, Muskingum, and Scioto Rivers from Cleveland to Portsmouth, and the Maumee-Miami system on the western side of the state, each connecting Lake Erie with the Ohio River.^ⁱ

It was a great day, July 4, 1825, when Governor DeWitt Clinton of New York turned the first shovel of earth at Licking Summit. With pomp and ceremony, Governor Jeremiah Morrow of Ohio and other dignitaries turned other shovels full, Governor Clinton toured much of the state to stimulate interest in the building of branch canals. He envisioned the entire Ohio system as a gigantic feeder for his own Grand Canal, running through New York State, a transportation system traversing all the inland states from New York to the Mississippi.

There was feverish speculation in land adjacent to the line of the canal. The economic and social effects were rapidly visible. After twenty years of quiet development, largely limited to the county’s boundary, shut in by nearly impassible roads to an economy self contained, the thrifty, industrious, steady, German-speaking farmers of Stark County and their English-speaking neighbors suddenly found the outside world knocking at their side door.

Thousands of men were needed for labor and much of it was performed by farmers living in the vicinity. Dreams of new towns seized the imagination. Canton men bought land and laid out Bolivar, naming it for the South American hero of the time. Here the canal was to cross the Tuscarawas River by an aqueduct. James W. Lathrop and William Christmas of Canton established Canal Fulton in the northwest corner of the county.^ⁱⁱ

In the winter of 1825-26, Captain James Duncan, retired shipmaster from Portsmouth, N.H., owner of most of the township’s site land, established Massillon. His scholarly wife, a niece of Charles Hammond, early editor of the Cincinnati Gazette, suggested the name in honor of Jean Baptiste de-Masssillon, celebrated Roman Catholic French bishop of the days of Louis XIV. Contracts for canal work in the vicinity of Massillon were awarded at Captain Duncan’s house January 18, 1826. (Kendall, the hamlet that preceded it, is now the fourth ward of Massillon; named for Kirky-in-Kendal, ancient English town celebrated in history.)

Akron, the Greek word meaning The Heights, rose in bustling fashion from a collection of shanties where the canal laborers lodged at the top of a spectacular and picturesque descent which locks and sluices would lower the waterway from the Portage Lakes to the Cuyahoga Valley.

An advertisement in the Repository stimulated interest in the residential and business prospects of Massillon: “The proprietors are now laying out and offer for sale lots in the new town of Massillon, situated on the Ohio Canal at the intersection of the great road leading from Pittsburgh westward through New Lisbon, Canton, Wooster, and Mansfield . “It occupies both banks of the canal, having a large and commodious basin near the center of town, with a large number of warehouse lots laid out adjoining so as to render it peculiarly convenient for commercial business. The prices of the lots and terms of payment may be known by applying to Alfred Kelly, acting canal commissioner, James Duncan, one of the proprietors who resides in the town; or John Saxton, agent for the proprietors in Canton.”

Simultaneous with the Ohio development, Pennsylvania built canals and there was much competition for labor. Alfred Kelly advertised in the Repository that from $10.00 to $13 a month would be paid – 30 to 34 cents a day – with plain board and shanty lodging. Some contractors, in addition, assured their workmen a daily jigger of whiskey.^ⁱⁱⁱ

Canal traffic opened between Akron and Cleveland July 4, 1827. Exactly two years after the project began, a boat dropped down the Akron locks and, at 3 miles an hour, its speed hardly suggested the revolutionary effects the canal was to produce in Ohio and Stark County within a few years.

In August, 1828, the canal was open for traffic from Akron to Massillon. Stark County had its outlet to Lake Erie! Farmers responded instantly with grain for shipment. Bezaleel Wells and others shipped the wool and cloth which they milled at Steubinville overland to Massillon, up the canal to Cleveland, across Lake Erie, through the Grand Canal and the Hudson River to New York City, up the Atlantic to Boston and down the Atlantic to Philadelphia and Baltimore. It was faster and cheaper than the old wagon route over the mountains eastward.

The people of Columbiana county incorporated the Sandy & Beaver Canal Company, financed by the sale of stock as a private enterprise, surveyed its route from the junction of Beaver creek and the Ohio river, up through New Lisbon and across to Minerva and Bolivar, there to join with the Ohio & Erie. It was a distance of 73 miles and called for the construction of several tunnels, the largest at a summit just east of Hanover.^{^iv} It was confronted with protracted delays in financing, organization and engineering.

By the end of the year (1829) the (Ohio) canal was open to Dover and by July 10, 1830, it had reached Newark. The tide of commerce shot upward, the cash value of wheat doubling.

Lotteries flourished: the Dismal Swamp Lottery, the Union Canal Lottery of Philadelphia, the Pokomoke Lottery of Wilmington, and the Grand Consolidated Lottery of Pittsburgh. All of them sought chance-taking customers in these parts; their advertising was compelling, with dollar signs and strings of figures running through it.

Carroll county in 1832 was created out of townships taken from Stark, Columbiana, Jefferson and Tuscarawas counties.

Complete from one end to the other, the canal in 1833 transported freight and passengers from Cleveland to Portsmouth – from Lake Erie to the Ohio river and over these water courses to New York City and to New Orleans. Simultaneously, the Miami canal was open from Dayton to Cincinnati and the Welland canal on the Canadian side connected Lake Erie and New Orleans.

The new town – Massillon, as differentiated from Kendall – had 100 houses and population of 500.

Elderkin Potter, New Lisbon Lawyer, broke the first ground for the Sandy & Beaver Nov. 24, 1834, addressing great throngs of people, setting forth in glowing terms the rosy future for New Lisbon and Columbiana County.

Concerned over the growing importance of Massillon, misguided in their zeal to off-set Massillon’s advantage, a group of Canton citizens subscribed to stock in the Nimishillen & Sandy Slackwater Navigation Company – a fancy title for what they thought would be a feeder canal from Canton to the Sandy & Beaver, thence to the Ohio & Erie and out to the oceans. Pomp and ceremony accompanied the breaking of ground on lower Walnut Street. Speculation in real estate ensued, casting the buyers into despair when the little Nimishillen creek quickly demonstrated that its water supply was far too inadequate to float boats of size. The project, of course, was abandoned and a miner local panic occurred.^{^v}

Massillon grew and so did Canton, both in population and prosperity. Because Massillon’s movement had the excitement of a “boom”, local pessimists overlooked the gradual benefits backwashing to Canton. By comparison they saw Canton retrogressing. The country had a population of 26,556, doubled in ten years.

The canal boomed wheat to $1.00, corn to 37 cents, rye to 56 cents, oats to 28 cents, butter to 14 cents, clover seed to $5.00, whiskey to 31 ½ cents a gallon, tallow to 10 cents a pound. The tax value of town lots totaled $96,556, a gain 65% over 1827. Eighty-nine merchants were in business in Canton. Pleasure carriages ranged the streets where none existed ten years before.

Massillon thrived as “the Wheat City.” The, canal, a busy thoroughfare, reflected the lusty, picturesque period. There was talk of railroads, but it dampened not a whit the ardor of canal enthusiasts, yet it held much hope for communities remote from the waterways.

A charter granted by the legislature March 14, 1836, to the Cleveland and Pittsburgh Railroad Company, projected to run through Columbiana county and cut northward through a corner of Stark county, lay dormant.

The panic of 1837 struck the east and its repercussions were promptly felt in Ohio. Construction of the Sandy & Beaver canal prosecuted with vigor in despite many obstacles, came to a standstill. The price of wheat and other farm produce dropped. Business in general took a tailspin. In many ways, however, the canals served to cushion the effects of this depression. They brought settlers to all parts of the state, put them on farms and put them in towns and cities, kept the money in circulation, brought venture capital into industrial enterprise.

The legislature created Summit county, with Akron and contiguous territory shaping into size by reason of the canal, and to create it Stark county lost two townships in the readjustment.

Massillon’s growing importance brought on talk of transferring the Stark county seat from Canton. That is to say, there was such talk in the vicinity of Massillon; there was successful resistance in Canton and eastward in the county.

After nine years, The Cleland and Pittsburgh Railroad Company took one more step toward development of its line, in 1845 amending its dormant Ohio charter in preparation for construction work in Columbiana county and in the eastern angle of Stark county.

Determined to offset the canal, to get under way a paralleling railroad line, which would provide transportation all year in competition with water transportation which was icebound in winter, groups of citizens in Canton and Akron met in Akron January 21, 1845. Samuel Lahm served as chairman and Thomas Goodman as secretary. All attending were enthusiastic and anxious. Their reports raised high hopes and on January 24, 1845, the Repository issued a letter-size single-sheet Extra Edition, printing verbatim the proceedings of the meeting and urging accomplishment of its objective.

Never for a moment fading out, the project languished to await a more propitious time.

The first boat, under command of Captain Dunn, moved triumphantly from the Ohio river into Little Beaver and up through the Fredericktown locks of the Sandy & Beaver canal to New Lisbon, where it was hailed with calibration and rejoicing Mathias Hester laid out town lots at Freedom and in 1848 David G. Hester received appointment to postmaster. His first mail contained one newspaper – a copy of the Ohio repository – and one letter.

The State Legislature passed an Act incorporating the Ohio & Pennsylvania Railroad Company, giving it the right to lay track from Mansfield eastward by way of Wooster, Massillon and Canton to a point on the east line of the state within Columbiana county, there to connect with trackage through Indiana to Chicago.

The tracks of the Cleveland and Pittsburgh and of the Ohio & Pennsylvania were to cross at Freedom.

The shadow of futility fell upon the builders of the Sandy & Beaver canal, but they kept doggedly at their work. After four years of digging, with hand labor for lack of mechanical devices, burrowing the Big Tunnel as an 18-foot tube, 80 feet below the surface of the hill, the middle section from New Lisbon to Minerva was incomplete.

A boat was forced through from New Lisbon to Hanover to hold the canal charter.^{^vi} Approaching West Fork creek, east of Hanover, it went aground. Seven yoke of oxen and many willing hands lifted it over the barrier into deeper water. Then, traversing the Big Tunnel, a huge stone rolled down in front of the boat. Again struggling men released the craft and it pulled through to anchor at Hanover January 6, 1848, “on schedule”.

Something more than railroads was faintly visible as a forecast of prosperity for Canton. Just outside Greentown, a machinist-farmer, Cornellius Aultman in 1848 made patterns and experimentally made five Hussey reapers from designs laying dormant in the hands of their Baltimore originator. They were the first machines of the kind made in Ohio, with exception of two or three turned out at Martins Ferry the previous year.

Michael Dillman, a progressive and prosperous farmer living nearby, across the line in Summit County, used one of Aultman’s machines and with so much satisfaction that he bought a partnership with Aultman. The next year, 1849, the two went to Plainfield, Illinois, put up a small shop and went into limited production of reapers

Stark county subscribed $75,000 worth of stock in the Ohio & Pennsylvania Railroad Company and work was begun at many places along its right-of-way between Crestline and Pittsburgh.

Cornellius Aultman, after the close of the harvest season in 1850, sold his interest in the reaper factory at Plainfield, Ill., and returned to Greentown. Several months prior, the Baltimore designer, Mr. Hussey, agreed with Mr. Aultman and his associates that $15 for each machine would be paid as a royalty on his invention.

The tempo of industry quickened for Canton in 1851. The Cleveland and Pittsburgh Railroad line was completed and trains were running. The little neighborhood where the C. & P. tracks crossed those of the Ohio & Pennsylvania, known previously as Freedom, now bore the name of Alliance, conferred upon it by General Robinson, an official of the company at Pittsburgh – a name he symbolized as a wedding of the rails.

Ephraim Ball and Cornellius Aultman in 1851 formed Ball, Aultman & Co., made twelve Hussey reapers and six threshing machines at Greentown and sold them in the vicinity. The location of a plant near the Ohio & Pennsylvania railroad appealed to them as advantageous for shipping of their machines to the wheat country of the west. After the harvest, they bought land adjacent to the tracks and moved to Canton.

It was the dawn of a bright new day for Canton, though not at the moment distinguishable. Mr. Ball, Mr. Aultman, Lewis Miller, Jacob Miller and George Cook pooled their financial resources, $4,500 in all, paid for their three lots alongside the railroad line and built a two-story brick factory, housing a wood shop, finishing shop and molding shop.

While not yet a large employer of labor, Ball, Aultman, & Co. built 25 Hussey reapers in 1852 and worked out the details of the Ohio Mower. Encountering conflict of patents with inventor Haines at Pekin, Ill., they came to mutual agreement on manufacture and sale.

The Iron Horse came to Canton in 1853. The Ohio & Pennsylvania line opened for travel from Pittsburgh to Crestline April 11.

Overshadowed by parallel railroad lines, the eastern section of the Sandy & Beaver canal went into disuse; the middle division was too difficult and too incomplete to use; the western section from Hanover to Bolivar was left for the state to take over.^{^vii}

Ball, Aultman & Co. began in 1855 a season of expanded production, but a fire on the night of May 5 destroyed most of their plant. Though handicapped, they produced 12 Hussey reapers in time for the harvest and rebuilt the plant.

Almost primitive up to 1830 and with only meager mechanical development up to 1850, agriculture went through a swift transition concurrent with the early period of Aultman activity. Up to 1830 the farmer produced chiefly for himself and family. With the advantage of machinery, he raised crops largely to sell.

(Missing bit here.) …system under the competition of railroads, but it continued to be a busy and beneficial thoroughfare, reaching into regions yet untouched by rails.

The Ohio & Pennsylvania railroad opened its line through from Pittsburgh to Chicago early in 1856 and on August the three divisions comprising it – the Pennsylvania division, the Ohio division and the Indiana division – were consolidated and the name changed to the Pittsburgh, Ft. Wayne & Chicago Railroad Company. Stark County, by this time, owned $105,000 worth of its stock, selling the stock subsequently for $127,000 to redeem the bonds by which the county had raised money for its investment.

Bell, Aultman & Co. weathered a miner panic of 1857 to become stronger and busier than ever, in this year producing 1,000 agricultural machines, demonstrating the superiority of its reapers, threshers and mowers in competitive tests in various parts of the country. Its most significant victory, in a great field demonstration at Syracuse N.Y. brought widespread favor for the Aultman machines.

C. Russell & Co. went into production of a reaper, called the Peerless, at Massillon, in competition with Aultman.

The Aultman plant in 1863 was busier than ever; farm machinery stood in demand, so that greater crops might be planted and harvested for the people at home and for the army in the field. Cornelius Aultman and his associates were prevailed upon by enterprising Akron men to establish a branch factory there.

The Aultman Company increased its capital stock to $450,000, and at a later date to $1,000,000 for the Canton plant only, setting up a separate capital structure for the Akron plant.

The Pittsburgh, Ft Wayne & Chicago railroad was sold under foreclosure at Cleveland. It was leased subsequently for 999 years dating from July 1, 1869 by the Pennsylvania Railroad Company and its parent, the Pennsylvania Company.

Dormant since 1845, the project for a railway line between Cleveland and Canton was revived and a charter obtained for the Akron & Canton Railway (The Valley Railway), but delay again confronted its development.

The Valley Railway set its capital at $3,000,000 and in 1871 went forward with plans to extend a line from Cleveland, by way of Akron to Canton and on through Tuscarawas and Carroll counties to Bowerstown in Harrison county, where it might tap the coal fields and connect with the Panhandle Railway.

Influential citizens of Cleveland, Akron, Canton, Wheeling and other towns along the projected route of the Valley Railway met in January 1872 at Akron. James A. Saxton of Canton presided. The Cleveland representatives pledged toward its financing $500,000, Akron $150,000 and Canton $150,000. Subscription books were opened at each of the cities and Canton was first to announce her quota had been raised. Akron reported the same success soon thereafter and, in due course, Cleveland subscribed $508,000. Saxton and George Cook of Canton along with five other men, were elected directors April 24.

David L. King of Akron, in 1875 president of the projected Valley Railroad from Cleveland to Canton, balked in his efforts to get it financed in this country, went to England. He was about to conclude the sale of bonds to English Capitalists when the House of Commons discredited American railroad securities on the basis of the Jay Cooke & Co. failure and other depression fears. Mr. King was forced to return empty handed, but he did not give up.

Work on the Valley Railroad, after all its financial vicissitudes, was well started in 1878. President King spiked the first rail at Akron Oct. 26 and from that moment the laying of track went forward with vigor, south to Canton and north to Cleveland.

Late in the year Canton became the beneficiary of another and equally important railroad project, the Connotton Valley Railway. It was developed by wealthy owners of coal property in the neighborhood of Dellroy, namely C.G. Patterson of Boston, N.A,. Smith of New York, G.L. Ingersoll of Cleveland, C.C. Shober of Carrolton and others.

They conceived it as a narrow gauge (3 feet) line of track, adequate and well operated for the transportation of coal, other freight and passengers, from a junction with the Panhandle at Bowerstown on the south, through Canton north to Fairport on Lake Erie and on to Cleveland.

They bought at court sale the little Ohio & Toledo line, laid between Carrollton and Minerva, which in 1878 was in financial difficulties. They extended it to Dellroy in 1879 and pushed toward Canton.

The Valley Railroad was completed from Cleveland to Canton in the winter of 1879-80 and the first train came through from the northern terminus January 28, 1880. Regular train service began February 2.

Soon thereafter, the Connotton Valley Railway came up from Oneida and Carrollton to Canton, then work completed with a rush in May 1880. At the same time construction was pushed to Bowerstown. It was a memorable occasion when on May 15 an excursion train came on the excellent narrow gauge line, bringing 500 enthusiasts from Carrollton, Dellroy and other points; the engine, two baggage cars, two passengers and four flat cars bedecked and crowded.

The Repository began its story of the event: “Energy begets success.” It was a compliment to the backers of the line, who with their own money, asking no loans, selling no bonds, calling only for free right-of-way in each community, built it.

The company placed a similar “special” train at the disposal of leading Canton citizens May 17 and they traversed the line to Carrollton, marveling at the Robertsville tunnel and Montgomery “cut”.

Regular passenger service began a schedule of two trains daily in each direction May 18, 1880. The company went forward with construction of the two northern branches, through Middlebranch, Hartville, Congress Lake, Suffield, Magadore, Brimfield, Kent, Twinsburgh and Bedford into Cleveland – and at an angle out of Kent toward Fairport, where coal from the Connotton Valley fields might be shipped to Canada, Milwaukee, St.Paul, Chicago and west.

i The Act referred to authorized the Ohio Canal from Cleveland to Portsmouth and the Miami Canal from Cincinnati to Dayton (later extended to Lake Erie). The Miami Canal was extended in two sections and completed to the Lake in 1847. A Legislative Act passed in 1849 changed the name of those three sections to the Miami & Erie Canal. That same Act changed the name of the Ohio Canal to the Ohio & Erie Canal though few people of the canal era ever called the Ohio Canal by any other name.

ii The initial name of the town was Fulton, the Canal prefix being added in 1830. When Fulton was established in 1826, Stark County included an additional township, Franklin, to the north. This was ‘lost’ in 1840 when Summit County was formed.

iii There is some evidence that not all contractors provided a standard four gills of whiskey a day even at the beginning of canal construction. Apparently, the practice of providing whiskey at all was stopped by all, or most, contractors within a year, not on moral grounds, but because the practice was too expensive for contractors to continue

iv The Sandy & Beaver Canal contained two tunnels, both on the summit level between Guilford and Hanoverton.

v When a project to link Canton with the canal at Massillon via an eight mile long horse-drawn railway was declared an engineering impossibility due to the steep grades between the two towns, and a waterway north was blocked by unfavorable terrain, the group of influential Canton businessmen turned their sights onto a waterway, south. In 1831, the State Legislature was approached to authorize an examination of the Nimishillen and Sandy creeks from “the forks” south of Canton to the Ohio canal near Bolivar with the object of improving those streams with slackwater dams and short stretches of canal. The examination was approved, and a Mr. Fields did the survey work. A Charter was given by the State to form the Nimishillen and Sandy Navigation Company that next year (1832). Stock subscriptions were slow until the Sandy & Beaver Canal Company broke ground in 1834. The Nimishillen and Sandy project was altered to tie into the former canal near Sandyville and the Nimishillen and Sandy Navigation Company stockholders met formally on December 25, 1834 to elect officers, and directors and appoint an engineer for their project. The sites for two reservoirs northwest of 6^th St and Walnut N.W. were to supply the canal with water until the forks of the Nimishillen were reached. Ground was broken in 1836 and contracts let for both ends of the approximately 12 miles of canal and slackwater. The nation’s financial ‘bubble’ burst in the spring of 1837 and work on the Nimishillen and Sandy canal was suspended. By the late 1840s when the country’s economy had improved enough for the Sandy & Beaver project to be revived, Canton’s businessmen were focusing their hopes on the fledgling Pennsylvania and Ohio railroad and the Nimishillen and Sandy project was not revived. .

vi There was never any danger the canal company would lose it’s charter if the January deadline was not met. One of the principal investors had pledged $50,000 with the stipulation that the canal be finished by that date.

vii In actuality, the entire length of the Sandy & Beaver canal was operational beginning with the boating season of 1850 and carried a respectable amount of traffic. The canal company was under-funded, however, and when a dam on one of the reservoirs on the summit failed in the spring of 1852 causing local flood damage and losing support of the local communities, it became impossible for the canal company to survive. The entire line was auctioned off in sections approximately ½ mile long in March of 1854. A group from Sandyville obtained the western-most six miles of canal, refurbished it, and ‘sold’ it to the state for $1.00. The state took ownership of that section in December 1856 and ran it as a water and cargo feeder to the Ohio Canal at Bolivar until the Sandy & Beaver aqueduct across the Tuscarawas River collapsed in 1883.

USGS topoView Website

It might seem archaic these days, but at one time the canal researcher would reach for their paper topographic map instead of clicking on Google Earth. Many of us still have our venerable paper maps with notes in the margins and circles around important sites. Even with Lidar and Maps and Google Earth, the old topographic maps are a valuable record of what once was. But do you know about the USGS topoView website which can offer decades of maps with a couple clicks?

Before we get to that, just be aware that the topographic mapping process began in 1880s and proceeded across the country over the decades. This is the one limitation to using these maps in canal research as the canal might have been long gone by the time the first map was created. But simply seeing the contour of the land might help to understand the why and how of a canal route.

The United States Geological Survey, or USGS, offers topo maps that cover the United States, online and for free, by way of their topoView website. Once in the site, you will be presented with a larger general purpose map where you can zoom in to quickly find the state, city, river, road, or feature. With a click on the map, a dashboard will open presenting a list of the available maps for whatever quadrant you happened to select.

A view of the topoView dashboard, with the Cascade Locks region selected.

The red circle on top left will show the number of available maps for that quadrant. The date range slider will allow you to chose the date if you want to focus on a certain time. Below that are a number of colored circles with the 250k, 100k, and so on. These are the scales available just in case you only want to see a certain type of map. If you click on a map scale, the number in the red circle will change as will the listing, showing what is available.

The listing of maps, from oldest to newest, will show you the quadrant name, the date of survey and scale. By clicking on the SHOW button (in this example, I have clicked on it so it now appears as a HIDE button), the map will appear and you can happily move around the page, zooming in or out, and moving with a simple drag of the mouse. There is also a MAP TRANSPARENCY slider that allows you to move back and forth between the general use map and the topo map. This is very handy if you happen to be trying to find a feature that you know about and want to see what used to be there. There are also helpful videos on YouTube if you really wish to dive into the mapping, but for general use, navigation around the site is easy.

Maps can be downloaded in a variety of formats that include JPEG, KMZ, GeoTiff, and GeoPDF. These are all free. These will be delivered to your computer as a ZIP file. You can click on the EXTRACT button to open the map and then you can save it as you wish.

The Illinois and Mississippi Canal as seen in the 1929 map at 1:62500 scale. Historical Topographic Map Collection

Older maps use a scale that is 1:63,360, where one inch equals one mile. This scale presents canals as a blue line without much detail. If you happen to get lucky, locks might be represented with a V mark, but in most cases, you will need to look for the contour lines to try to find lock sites. You can quickly change maps by using the list on the right side of the page to scroll through what is available. As you progress through the years, you might find a change in scale as newer maps were made in 1:24000, where one inch equals 2000 feet, or slightly less than a half mile. At this scale, you might find canal remains as seen in the 1954 map of Schenectady. The quality of the maps can vary, so it pays to click on all the maps to see how they change over the years.

Two maps of Schenectady. The above is from 1893 in 1:62500 scale, and the below is from 1954 in 1:24000 scale. Historical Topographic Map Collection

The D&H Gravity RR was still in use when this 1894 map was made in 1:62500 scale. Historical Topographic Map Collection

The Ohio and Erie Canal was still in use north of Dresden, Ohio, when this map was made in 1910 using 1:62500 scale. Historical Topographic Map Collection

As you can see here, most of the older maps are in the larger one inch to a mile scale. Once you have downloaded the maps to your computer, you can do as you wish with them. You can use any photo editor on them as you have them as JPEG files. Here is one that I used in a prior post where I stitched two together.

So have fun, and let us know if there is some technique or way to use that I missed.