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The Black River Canal (NY)

The Black River Canal was one of New York’s many lateral canals that extended navigation to the north and south of the main Erie Canal. Today, it is a remarkably intact abandoned canal, largely due to the fact that parts of the southern end continue to be used as a feeder channel to supply water to the Barge Canal, however canal locks and the prism can be found all along the thirty-five miles between Rome and Lyons Falls. And lately a trail has been established along sections of the towpath, giving it further protections.

The southern end of the BRC joined to the Erie Canal in Rome. This was near the location of Fort Stanwix, or to be more precise, at the intersection of Black River and Erie Boulevards. The canal then headed north, climbing into the mountains by following the valley of the Mohawk River and then the Lansingkill gorge. Today State Route 48 closely follows this same route and remains can be seen all along the highway. When the canal reached it’s highest point at Boonville, it began to descend along the Black River valley toward Lyons Falls. Lyons Falls was the northern terminus of the canal, but not of the navigation. By using the Black River north for forty-two miles, boats were able to reach the village of Carthage. This, the state reasoned was a cost effective project by turning the thirty-five-and-a-half-miles of canal into seventy-seven miles of usable waterway into the Adirondack Mountains.

Planning for the BRC, and many other canals, began as soon as the Erie Canal was completed in 1825. Early plans for the canal were ambitious as the hope was to build a canal through and over the mountains to reach the St. Lawrence River at Ogdensburg. This would have involved a series of canals and river navigation along a route north of Carthage that used the Indian and Oswegatchie rivers, passing through Gouverneur and ending at Ogdensburg. This route would have been 146 miles long. In reality, construction on the system ended once the canal reached Carthage.

An interesting footnote of BRC history was the close examination of the Morris Canal’s (New Jersey) inclined planes to replace the need for the great number of locks that were purposed along the canal. In all, the BRC was to use 109 locks over the thirty-five miles between Rome and Lyons Falls, which means about four locks per mile. In contrast, the Erie Canal used eighty-three locks along it’s 363 miles between Albany and Buffalo. The well known canal engineer Holmes Hutchinson traveled to New Jersey and made an in-depth report as to the usefulness of the inclined planes. In 1905, Whitford devoted many pages in his history of the New York canals to Hutchinson’s study on the subject.

The talk about the canal, conducting surveys, and attempting to find a suitable route, went on for years, until 1836 when a law (Chapter 157 of 1836) was passed that authorized the construction of the canal. The year is significant as it was also the year that construction began on the enlarged Erie Canal, a canal that would need an increased supply of water to fill it’s channel. Whitford notes that the law allowed the state to take as much water as could be reasonably spared from the Black River to supply the summit of the Erie Canal at Rome. The canal was to be called, “The Black River Canal and Erie Canal Feeder.” A second factor in the authorization was the never-ended supply of lumber in the mountains and the opening of lands to settlement.

The 1836 law was not without it’s opponents. Mill owners and those with interest is navigating the Black River pointed to the Act of 1811 that gave them ownership of all the waters of the Black River, and that the state was breaking it’s own law by taking water for the Erie Canal.

Water management on the BRC is a fascinating subject on its own. The Black River begins at the North and South Lakes (twenty miles due east of Boonville) and flows south-west toward Forestport, about fifteen miles (all distances are as a stright line, so the actual distance is much longer). It then flows north toward Hawkinsville which is three miles east of Boonville. The river continues to flow almost due north to Carthage and Great Bend, which is another forty-four miles. At Great Bend the river turns west to Watertown and Lake Ontario. Since the Black River is three miles east of Boonville and the canal route, a feeder canal was constructed to get the water from the river to the canal. To gain the proper slope so that water would flow between the river and canal, the feeder was extended for another seven miles to Forestport. To make the best use of this canal, it was built as a navigable canal, thus adding another ten miles to the navigation.

The feeder connected to a wide area along the river called Kayuta Lake. Later a dam would be built to create more of a reservoir. This watershed diversion was so important to the Erie Canal that even though the BRC was never a money maker, it’s supply of water was so critical to the operation of the Erie that the canal escaped a number of abandonment’s over the years. While most of the lateral canals were closed in 1877, the BRC kept flowing. And when the Barge Canal was constructed in the early 1900s, the BRC was kept as a navigable feeder. Even today, parts of the canal serve to take water from the Black River and pass it into the Mohawk.

Work on the BRC began in late 1837 and early 1838. Whitford’s history of canals gives a nice description of the work, and the requests made by people in the northern areas to extend the canal route either to Sackett’s Harbor on Lake Ontario, or to Ogdensburg and the St. Lawrence River. Whitford goes as far to list the routes, the cost, and the number of locks. Some construction on the feeder arm was done in 1841 and 42, during a drought that was hampering navigation on the Erie Canal. The Stop and Tax Law of 1842 brought all work to a halt. The construction materials, the lumber and stone, that had been purchased but had not being used were offered for sale to the public, selling for pennies on the dollar. Construction resumed in 1847, and by October 18, 1848, water began to flow through the feeder. In 1849 the amount of water being taken from the river to supply the Erie Canal exceeded the natural flow of water north causing the river to dry up for three months. To alleviate further shortages, a series of reservoirs were built to store water for the river and feeder. These include North Lake, Bisby Lake, and the Woodhull Reservoir. The Canal Society of NYS held a field trip to these sites in 2003, and for those with an interest in this system of water supply should find a copy of the guide book for the Adirondack Reservoirs. Whitford also delves into the subject.

The BRC was put into use on November 1, 1850, which means that navigation really began in the spring of 1851. There are a number of openning dates floating around. Whitford notes that the canal was in use in 1851, but was complete on November 13, 1855. The large canal map that the state published in 1862 states that the canal was completed in1849, so we can safely say that the canal was being used by 1851.

As this is not intended to be a complete history of the canal, I will skip forward to the 1870s when canal abandonment fever was sweeping across the state. The debate was could the BRC feeder system supply the needed amount of water to the Erie without the whole canal in use. The state wished to see if the Black River water could be sent south by using the Lansingkill and Mohawk and then taken into the canal at Rome. So an experiment was made in the spring of 1875, where the Erie Canal was opened before the BRC was filled. This supply proved to be insufficient and the experiment proved the worth of the canal as a feeder. This is how the BRC escaped the 1877 abandonment fate of most of the other lateral canals.

Nobel Whitford devotes an extensive number of pages in his history of canals to the work of David Whitford (his father, uncle?) who was selected to conduct a study on the water supplies of the Adirondack Mountains in the 1890s. At the same time, Verplank Colvin was advocating for the establishment of the Adirondack Park to protect the forests and thus the amount of water that could be used by the Erie Canal. The state created the Adirondack park in 1894 as a forever wild area under the NYS constitution, in part, to have water to fill the Erie Canal.

Abandonment would catch up with the canal as it was recommended by the state engineer to close the section of canal north of Boonville in the early 1900s. And this section was closed to traffic in 1905 as traffic had dwindled to almost nothing for several years. Oddly what saved this section of the canal, at least for a few years, was the Barge Canal and the construction of the Delta Dam. Rock and stone from quarries north of Boonville were to be used in the new dam and the best way to transport this stone was by the canal. Thus the canal and locks between Boonville and Port Leyden were refurbished and put into use for a few years.

During the construction of the Delta Dam, three new locks and a new aqueduct were constructed as to carry the canal around the new Delta Reservoir. The old canal from lock 7 to lock 13, including the village of Delta and the one-mile-long navigable Delta feeder, would be flooded by the new reservoir. The new concrete locks and aqueduct can be seen downstream and to the right of the dam. Lock 7 would be moved slightly south from it’s original site that was to be under the new dam. After all this work, the locks north of Boonville were refurbished once again in the hopes that the canal would be used up through the Black River and Carthage and the canal remained in a navigable condition into the 1920s.

And yet, only eighty-four boats left Boonville for Rome in 1921, three in 1922, and none in 1923. The canal was un-officially abandoned by disuse. The canal continues to carry water south to Rome by using the Forestport feeder and the section from Boonville to lock 63. At that point the water spills into the Lansingkill and flows south to join with the Mohawk River, and then into Delta Reservoir.

What all this later work has accomplished is to leave a relatively intact canal for historians to explore. By the time the canal was abandoned, the route of the highways and railroads had been established, so there was no rush to fill in the old canal and turn it into a highway or railroad. Over the years, some sections have been lost to the highways, most notably in the south along Black River Boulevard and north of Boonville along Rt 12. Most of the locks remain in fairly decent condition, although the aqueducts have removed due to flooding.

For those who are interested in further study, there are a number of good books. Of course, Whitford’s History of the New York State Canals was written while the canal was in operation, and it is likely the most complete. The book Forestport Breaks by Michael Doyle is a later look into how people were purposely breaking through the canal banks in the spring to cause leaks and floods, with the hopes that the state would hire locals to help make repairs. It was a job creation by destruction technique. The book Snubbing Posts by Thomas O’Donnell is called “An Informal History of the Black River Canal.” The Canal Society of New York State has printed four guidebooks for their field trips in 1981, 1994, 2003, and 2007. And then there is Walter Edmonds, who was a local author. Walter used the Black River country as a setting for his stories. Reading these delightful novels such as Rome Haul, or The Boyds of Black River (and many more), will give you a sense of what life was like in the southern Adirondack mountains and along the BRC.

The canal and locks are very visible on Google Earth, especially if you can go back to the 2003 images. From Rome to Boonville the route of the canal is very easy to follow. North of Boonville, the imagery is not so good, however by using the guidebooks and Google Earth and Google Maps, I was able to plot most of the canal structures. This work can be found in the Canal Index sheets.

The Bridge Weir at Mirejovice

In the fall of 1905, representatives of the New York State Barge Canal visited Europe on a fact finding tour to see how the new dams (weirs) were working along the canals and river navigation. A stop was made to see the newly built bridge dam at Mirowitz on the Moldau, or today known as Mirejovice on the Vitava River. The engineers were interested in the Vitava as it was very similar to the Mohawk River, and they felt that it would offer a nice comparison to what New York wished to accomplish.

The bridge dam, or what the French called the “barrage mobiles a pont”, was a relatively new system of elevating the weir works above the river channel. Prior to this development, mobile or movable dams were of the trestle type which were attached to a sill in the river channel. By elevating the dam over the river, it was hoped that any floods or ice flows would not damage the structure.

So in 1905 the New York contingent visited Mirejovice to see this new weir. Interestingly, this dam is a mix of the old and new. The five-span-bridge was built to accommodate vehicles and to support the weir works that can be seen in the middle of the span. But to each side you can see the older trestle style needle dam. And in the other photos, you can see the group walking on the heavily stoned river bottom. The group watches from this bank as the weir is deployed.

The other dams along the Vitava were of the trestle type. The only reason that the bridge weir was built was due to the bend in the river and the fear that boats would not be able to line up for the lock while avoiding the piers of the road bridge that had to be built there. So it was decided to combine the two into one.

The Mirejovice weir was heavily promoted in New York during the construction of the Barge Canal as an example of modern construction. It is interesting that today the weir has been replaced while the bridge dams along the Mohawk remain in use 115 years later.

The bridge dam at Lock 13, Yosts, NY

In the collection was a photo of the Horin Lock, which looks like it hasn’t aged a bit over the years.

Miaow Miaow, Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons

These photos are from the New York State Archives, Barge Canal Collection 11833.

Bridge Dams on the NYS Barge Canal

The bridge dam at Yosts, Lock 13.

Michael Riley

The Mohawk River in New York State has been used as a transportation corridor since the beginning of man’s settlement. The river in it’s natural setting was shallow and relatively slow flowing, with the occasional series of rifts or rapids. Along the 120-miles between Rome and the Hudson river there are two waterfalls. The largest of the two is near the eastern end of the river, where the water flows over a 90-foot-high falls at Cohoes. At Little Falls the river flows over a series of rapids that are 45-feet in height. However in the 120-miles between Rome and the Hudson, the elevation change is only 450 feet. This made the river a natural corridor for movement from the east to the west.

This was such a natural pathway that in the 1700s, the Western Inland Lock Navigation Company constructed short canals and locks around the natural obstacles in the river. The falls at Cohoes was simply avoided by making Schenectady the eastern end of navigation. For those interested in the topic of early river navigation, I would suggest Robert Hager’s excellent work; Mohawk River Boats and Navigation before 1820.

The construction of the Erie Canal would change all this. The Mohawk valley route was used but the canal was kept separate from the river by constructing a man-made ditch. In some places this separation might be the width of the canal embankment, but wherever possible, the canal route was kept away from the river so the man-made cut would be protected from floods and ice damage.

The route of the canal returned to the river channel during the construction of the Barge Canal. Instead of avoiding the river, the canal would occupy it in a process called “canalization.” Dams would be constructed to form 12-foot-deep navigation pools, and locks would connect these pools. A major consideration for the engineers was what type of dam would best suit the river since the Mohawk was well known for its seasonal floods.

The Mohawk River has a large watershed that reaches north into the Adirondack mountains and south into the Catskills. From it’s beginnings north of Rome near Boonville, the river flows south to Rome and then turns east in the Mohawk valley. As it flows east, it receives the flow of the 76-mile-long West Canada Creek, which is another south flowing Adirondack foothills river. Just west of Amsterdam, the Mohawk joins with the Schoharie, a river that has it’s beginning near Indian Head Mountain, 93-miles south of its confluence with the Mohawk. With this large watershed, a heavy rain storm or snow melt miles away from the Mohawk valley can cause the Mohawk to quickly rise and flood without much warning. In the winter, large blocks of ice can form in the shallow river waters and when the weather warms in the spring, these ice chunks will begin to float on the rising waters, and create dams that can cause water to backup for miles. When the ice dam finally breaks up, the rushing water and ice flows can easily destroy anything left or built in the river channel.

The state did have some history with building dams in the Mohawk. Small fixed crest dams had been used to supply water to the Erie, such as the dam at Rocky Rift near Indian Castle. was one of these small dams. And prior to this, wing dams had been built along the Mohawk to help boats pass over the riffs. But the canalization of the river would be far beyond anything they had built to date. So they began to look elsewhere around the world to see what had been built and who had success.

One of the ideas they began to study was the movable dam. On a number of rivers, both in Europe and the United States, movable dams had been constructed to improve the navigation of the river by creating temporary navigation pools in times of low water. And the term “low water” is important here. The first movable dams had been designed and built by the French engineer, Charles Antonie Fracois Poiree, in 1834. (Although the bear trap dams built along the Lehigh in Pennsylvania are recognized as the first movable dam, they are built as part of a fixed crest dam, and thus are not a true movable dam.) The Poiree dam consisted of a number of iron frames that were fixed to a foundation on the river bottom. When the natrual river flow was sufficent for boat use, the frames were folded down to layflat on the bottom of the river. When the flow decreased in the summer and the river began to get shallow, men would lift the frames upright, and then lay a wood walkway across the tops of the frames. Once all the frames were raised and the wooden walkway installed, the entire affair looked like a trestle bridge, and thus the name of the dam is sometimes called the trestle dam. However, at this stage there is no dam, just a nice bridge. The dam was constructed by placing in-filling the upstream side of the dam with long narrow boards set vertically. The bottom of the board rested on a sill in the channel bed, and the top leaned against the wooden walkway. By installing board after board, a dam was slowly built up and the water is impounded. The height of the pool depended on the height of the trestle and boards, but these dams were typically three to eight feet in height. In France the boards are called aiguilles or needles, and the name of this type of dam is often called the needle dam. If the pool behind the dam had to be regulated, single or multiple boards could be removed. Once the natural condition of the river allowed use without dams, the needles could be pulled and the frames returned to the river bottom. These types of dams were later modified by French engineers named Boule and Camere, but the basic trestle framework stayed the same. Boule modified the dam by laying the boards horizontally and then joining them into larger gates that could be raised or removed when needed. Camere design a rolling curtain type of dam that looks much like a Venetian Blind.

A drawing from an engineering journal of the period. All are large trestle dams as seen when compared to the person standing by the right most structure. The left hand dam is a Boule type, while the other two are Camere types.

Slowly the use of the movable dam changed as shipping changed. If the dam was left in place throughout the navigation season, the canalized river could be kept at a set depth. This built consistency into the use of the river. If shippers knows they an always expect a depth a four feet, and that the areas of fast water have been stilled, then shippers can begin to use barges instead of arks. It was only during times of flood, ice, or canal closure, that the dams would be removed.

The period of the mid to late 1800s was a great time of dam innovation, and other movable dams were invented that served the same purpose as the trestle dam, but used a different structural framework. The Chanoine dam used three or four foot wide panels (sometimes called a wicket) that were attached to the river bottom. A man on a bridge or boat would reach into the flowing water with a long hooked pole and lift the panel upright. The panel was supported by a single strut. The idea of the wicket dam was that once the water began to flow over the top of the panel, the water pressure would cause it to trip backwards and release water. Once the water level lowered, the panel would snap back into place. It was found that this self-regulation didn’t work well, so the dam was modified so that all the struts could be released by pulling a level on shore, and the entire dam would return to the river floor. Incidentally, these dams were quite successful, and the last one was replaced recently on the Ohio River.

The engineers in New York State were use to building and maintaining a man-made canal. For the canalization of the Mohawk, the state hired David A. Watt as a “expert designer.” David had co-authored the Improvement of Rivers, a two-volume book that covered the vast field of dam and river navigation topics. He had worked with the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers, and in 1905, he had completed projects in Kentucky and Ohio. David realized that the main issue for the canalization of the Mohawk River was the unpredictable seasonal flooding and ice flows. Early in the Barge Canal planning the trestle dam had been considered, however it was realized that the ice flows would quickly damage or destroy the frames as they lay on the river bottom. However, David had written about another type of movable dam was coming into use throughout Europe, this being the bridge dam.

At its core the bridge dam takes the trestle dam and turns it upside down. Instead of mounting the frames to the river bottom, the frames are suspended from an overhead bridge where they are safe from the ice flows and easier to maintain. The French had built a bridge dam at Poses on the Seine River in 1885. This dam combined the hanging frames with the Camere curtain dams. This dam was unique enough to be given a fair amount of press in the American papers. Watt knew about this dam but he focused on a new type of bridge dam that had been built at Mirowitz on the Moldau [Vitava] River in the Czech Republic. The similarities of the Moldau and the Mohawk is striking, and for Watt, the Mirowitz dam was just what he needed.

The Poses Camere bridge dam.

The Mirowitz bridge dam was a mix between a roadway bridge and a dam. It’s appearance was of a typical truss-type bridge with five spans. The dam components, which were were long steel beams and plates, hung off the bottom of the road-deck. These were attached to the bridge along the downstream side, and could be lowered or hinged down, so that the lower part of the bean rested on a concrete sill in the river channel. With these supports in place, the large plates that created the dam were lowered. The navigation pool was regulated by either allowing the water to flow over the top of the plates, or by lifting individual plates so that water could escape. Interestingly, or oddly, this dam was a hybrid of this new hanging bridge dam, and two sections of a Poiree trestle dam. And, among all the dams along the Moldau, the dam at Mirowitz was the only bridge dam. The rest were very large trestle dams with Boule gates. The Moldau dam was only used because it was thought that a new road bridge, and a new dam, would be too difficult to navigate around as Mirowitz was located on a long bend in the river. This one bridge dam at Mirowitz [Mirejovice] was often cited by Watt and others as the example for the new dams that would be built along the Mohawk.

You can see how the dam components were suspended from the bottom of the bridge.
The bridge dam at Mirowitz with the dam in place and the steel plates being lowered. The water in the river is at it’s natural level. The people along the right bank would be underwater when the dam was in use.

Watt would need to build eight bridge dams along the Mohawk between Schenectady and Fort Plain. In this construction alone, he would be doubling the total number of bridge dams in use around the world. These dams would certainly be in the public’s eye as each dam consisted of a multi-span truss bridge, structures that would be very visible to those traveling through the valley on the New York Central Railroad and the main highways ran along the river. Their successes (or failures) would be on view for all to behold, especially those politicians who used the railroad to travel to Albany. It was a gamble for Watt and the state.

Construction began in 1906 and for the most part, all the dams were finished by 1913. The only exception was at Lock 8, where the contractor ran into quicksand and couldn’t complete his contract. For the most part, all the structures are alike, although each was adapted to fit into the environment. All the dams between Scotia and Amsterdam use three truss-type-spans as the river was naturally wider east of the confluence with the Schoharie Creek. All the dams between Tribes Hill and Fort Plain have two truss spans. The dam at Tribes Hill (at Lock 12) has two very long spans in order to minimize ice damming.

The vertical beams that hold the steel plates operate as pairs. First the frames are lowered into the river channel to rest upon a concrete sill. Each pair of frames holds two steel plates, and these can be raised or lowered as needed. Typically the lowered and larger plate remains in place all season long, and the upper and smaller plate is moved to adjust the navigation pool and flow of water. These two plates was an Watt innovation and a notable change from the dam at Mirowitz which used one large monolith plate. By splitting the plate into two, excess water could be released from the mid-point in the dam face. If the water was released under the plates, the flow would create scour in the river channel.

The frames and plates are seen here at the Rotterdam Junction dam after the 2011 floods.

The frames and plates were raised and lowered by using a large mechanical winch. When first designed, this winch was driven by a steam engine and boiler that was moved along rails that circled around the outside of the bridge. Steam engines were used as electricity was not available to most of the rural dams, and the winch was designed to be powerful enough to raise the dam even if the frames and plates were deployed. The platform that supported the winch was cantilevered out from the bridge on all sides, and these cantilevered beams were also used to support the dam components. This left the inside of the bridge open for possible use as a highway bridge, although when first built, there were no plans to use any of the bridge dams in this manner.

This image of the steam powered winch was taken from a engineering journal of the time.

As noted, most of the work was complete by the spring of 1913. In March of that year, the dams at Tribes Hill and Yosts (Locks 12 and 13) had been lowered to allow the dredging contractors to get an early start to the dredging season since the State was very eager to get the new canal completed and the old Erie abandoned. Unknown to all, a large winter storm was dumping inches of rain across the mid-west. In Ohio it is known as the “Storm of 1913”, and it’s flooding caused so much damage as to put the Ohio and Erie Canal out of business. In New York the storm headed east along the Mohawk Valley, catching the Barge Canal contractors unaware. As the flood waters rose, the construction wood, buggies, wagons and derricks was swept up. As the water began to rise, the locktenders at 12 and 13 decided to pull up the top steel plates but left the lower plates and frames in place. As the debris from the contractors sites along the river washed downstream, it began to collect and pile up on the plates and frames. These debris dams impounded the water to a greater depth then the dam was designed for. The resulting flood created stresses caused the plates and frames to twist and bend, the chains to break, and the supporting members in the bridge to buckle. Heroic measures were taken by the locktender forces to clear the dams, but the damage was done.

The damage at Yosts after the 1913 storm.

It was very apparent to everyone that the dams had some major issues. If the dams were not raised prior to flooding, they were impossible to raise. The dams are constructed to that the pressure of the water helps to seal the dam to the sill, much like a miter lock gate uses the water to help seal the gate closed. If any debris collects on the plates and frames, they become impossible to raise. Any adjustment has to take place prior to the flood waters reaching the dam. And, as they discovered in 1913, the bridge structure was strong enough to handle the immense pressure of the flood waters.

To salvage the dams all the bridges were given a additional, and sometimes a fourth, truss. In all cases, the downstream truss was twinned to add rigidity. (The dam at Scotia was built after 1913, and it was built with single, but stronger trusses.) The cantilevered sections were especially weak and these were strengthened. To help to reduce the weight on these cantilevered members, the heavy steam powered winches were replaced with lighter electric winches. On the original design, these winches ran on a track that circled the dam, much like a child’s Christmas train running around the tree. This was modified to that all the lifting points and winch were along the downstream side of the dam. The State made most of these modifications very quietly. In addition to all these repairs, the dam at Rotterdam Junction was modified to serve as a road bridge. Later in 1927 the dam at Tribes Hill would be also used as road bridge.

The Rotterdam Junction bridge after being made usable as highway bridge.

The next test of the dams was during the fall storms of 1938 when much the same flooding occurred. It was feared that four of the dams would fail, but they held, likely largely due to the work done after the 1913 floods. Of course, the last major event was in 2011 when Hurricane Irene and Tropical Storm Lee brought damaging floods to the valley. Although the storms resulted in damages over 50 million dollars, the dams held.

There were other bridge dams built as part of the Barge Canal project. At Herkimer a single span bridge dam was built in 1918 to replace a Poiree Dam that was first built there in 1910. At May’s Point in Seneca County, a single span bridge dam forms a navigable pool for Lock 25. On the Genesee arm of the canal at Rochester, a single span bridge dam was used to create the pool that creates the Rochester harbor. This dam was replaced in 1926 when the power company took control of the works and replaced the dam with a taintor gate dam. The last bridge dam was built in 1927 at Rocky Rift on the upper Mohawk. This was a smaller three span truss dam. The 1927 dam replaced a fixed crest and Boule trestle dam that was difficult to control.

The bridge dam fell quickly out of favor for the reasons seen here. They are difficult to operate under poor conditions, and once debris begins to build up on the frames and gates, they are impossible to open. The dams along the Mohawk might be the last of their kind, although two other bridge dams are still in use. The Emergency Swing Dam at Sault Ste. Marie, and the Camere dam on the Red River north of Winnipeg, are close cousins in the bridge dam family tree. All these are engineering landmarks.

I wanted find out if the bridge at Mirowitz (today’s it is Mirejovice) was still is use. The bridge is still in place, however the dam components have been replaced with a type of roller dam. I was able to grab a view of it off of Google Earth.

The bridge at Mirejovice as it appears today.

The Story Behind the 1834 Holmes Hutchinson Canal Maps

What follows is an article I wrote in 2011 for the Canal Society of New York State’s Bottoming Out journal.

Many years ago in 2002 when I was working on my book; Twelve and a Half Miles, The Erie Canal in Cayuga County, Craig Williams of the New York State Museum gave me a copies of some 1834 canal maps of Weedsport, Port Byron, and Montezuma, NY. This map showed the line of the canal and the structures immediately adjacent to it. Up to that moment in time the earliest maps I had seen and used were the 1853 Cayuga County wall map, so these new maps brought to life that early period of time when the canal was almost new and the small villages were even newer. These maps are known as the Holmes Hutchinson maps, and they showed details along the early canal that had all but disappeared by the 1850s.1

Years later, when I was doing some local research on the internet I stumbled across a court case involving Holmes Hutchinson that gave some insight into the making of these maps. In addition it provides some behind the scenes details that might be otherwise lost to history. So I had to dig into this bit of canal history and what follows is what I discovered. Much of what is known about this case comes from the testimony of the principals before the State Legislative Committees. I will do my best to lay out the story in chronological order.

But before I get into the details, it would be fitting to introduce the two people around whom this story revolves.

Holmes Hutchinson (HH) was born in Port Dickinson, Broome County, NY in 1794. He began work on the Erie Canal in 1819 as an engineer.2 He held this post until 1835 when he became the Chief Engineer of the middle division of the canal. He worked in this capacity until 1841. He died in 1865 in Utica, NY. Hutchinson’s career is well documented because of his public work on the canal system.

Jacob Trumpbour (JT) was born in Saugerties, Ulster County, NY in 1779. He lived all his life in Ulster County, and died in Kingston, NY, in 1843. He was a judge and surveyor. Jacob was a nephew of William Cockburn, a well known surveyor, land agent and land speculator.3 William also taught the art of surveying and it is presumed that Jacob learned his craft from him. Little else is known about Jacob.

So, on with the story.

One might think that the canals had been mapped as they were built. But apparently this was not the case for in 1827 the Legislature of the State of New York ordered that a survey be made of all the canals. This fell under the Revised Statutes of 1827, Part I, Ch. 9, Title 9, Article 1. In part, it said; “A complete manuscript map and field notes, of every canal that now is, or hereafter shall be completed, and of all the lands belonging to the State adjacent thereto, or connected therewith, shall be made, on which the boundaries of every parcel of lands, to which the State shall have a separate title, shall be designated, and the name of the former owners and the date of each title be entered.” And then; “If the Canal Commissioners, on examination of the premises, be satisfied that the cost and expense of making such a map, field notes and survey will exceed the sum of five thousand dollars, no such map and field notes shall be compiled.” 4 The statutes also state that the maps were to be approved by the Canal Commissioners and copies placed in the office of each county clerk that the canal passed through and that the maps were to be, “received as presumptive evidence in all judicial and legal proceedings.”5 This last phrase refers to ownership, even though it seems fairly vague.

Jacob Trumpbour was the first to submit a proposal for doing the field work and maps. Not surprisingly his proposal was for $5000, the amount allowed by statute. He shortly learned that Holmes Hutchinson had submitted a proposal for $4000, plus any additional expenses not to exceed $1000, or basically what was a $5000 bid.6 This type of ‘cost plus’ bid was something Trumpbour had been told was not allowed. Trumpbour was then told that Hutchinson’s proposal was more favorable to the State. He requested that his proposal be modified to $4000 plus expenses. His resubmitted bid was rejected at first but he persisted. As a result, the Canal Commissioners then sought to divide the survey between the two men. (The fact that the Commissioners took this step seems to indicate that they had made a mistake among themselves.) In April 1829 they dispatched Hutchinson with a letter and instructions to meet with Trumpbour in Kingston and to try to reach an agreement where both men could survey. The question comes to my mind is why send Hutchinson instead of sending a Commissioner? When Commissioner Seymour had Hutchinson go visit Trumpbour, was the understanding with Hutchinson that he was serving as a contractor taking on a State contract; or was he working on behalf of the State as a Canal employee; or was he acting as an agent of the Commissioners? Hutchinson was a paid State employee at this time so his role in the hiring or negotiating with Trumpbour could be seen from many different viewpoints, and as we shall see later no one was clear on this at the time. But evidence later showed that some sort of agreement was reached to split the survey at Canastota, about half way across the state. Trumpbour was to survey the western part of the Erie including all of the Cayuga Seneca, and the Oswego canals; and Hutchinson was to survey the eastern half of the Erie and all of the Champlain.

At this point in the story it might be helpful to cover the methods of surveying in use at the time because it is so critical to this case. Surveying was a multi-person job. The chief surveyor was the crew boss and kept a record of the measurements and make a sketch of the landscape. His main partner was a man who carried an instrument that had a telescope type sight that rotated on a compass rose often called a transit or a theodlite. This was mounted on a tripod. An axe-man would be sent forward along the intended route to clear a sight path. A fourth man would walk out along this path with a long rod and a fifth man would toss out a sixty-six-foot-long metal chain that was made up of 100 links. If the rodman had not been reached in that first toss, a pin was stuck in the ground, and the chain was moved forward. When the rodman was reached, the number of full chains and then the number of links were counted. The result was a measurement recorded as chains and links.7 As the ground rose or fell, the change in elevation was also noted through a process of fore and back sighting. He then moved forward and the process was carried out again and again. Surveyors will often close their loops by working back to the beginning point to check the correctness of their readings.

Along the canal this process would have been fairly easy as the land was cleared and flat. However, measurements would have been needed off the canal and into the nearby land and also across the water to the berm side. So let’s get back to the story.

By way of the court papers, we know that Jacob Trumpbour sought to construct a very detailed survey. It was an outside-in survey. This would be what you would likely get in any boundary survey. He ran his lines along the outside boundaries of the canal lands and noted these in his field book. He noted all encroachments onto canal lands. Trumpbour also took readings to permanent nearby landmarks. By taking this extra step, Trumpbour was providing starting points for future surveyors. This exacting method of surveying was not fast.

We don’t know what plan Hutchinson had planned on using, or even if he had a plan when he took the contract. Later testimony seems to point out that his employees settled this question. We know that he settled on a inside-out method that ran a base line down the inside edge of the tow path, and then every 100 feet; or when the compass heading changed; or when the construction of the canal called for it, such as at a wide waters or basin; he would run offsets to the outside boundaries of the canal. By using this method, he would miss any variations in the boundaries unless he made an effort to measure it. Any building encroaching onto canal land, which would have to show up on Trumpbour’s survey, may not be shown by this method. This method would keep the lead man on the flat and clear towing path. Of course, this method was far cheaper and faster.8

From my vantage point in 2010, it is easy to read a lot of conspiracy into the dealings of the players in this little drama. Under the Statutes under Title Nine, the Legislature seemed to be asking for a lot, but attempting to squash any efforts by under-funding the work and piling onto the Commissioners a lot of work. In addition to the survey and maps, the Commissioners were to approve, certify, copy and deliver maps to all the counties along the canals. And the wording that the Commissioners “be satisfied that the cost and expense of making such a map, field notes and survey, will exceed the sum of five thousand dollars, no such map and field notes shall be compiled.” seems to be an attempt to give everyone an easy and legal way out. Even in 1829, $5000 was not a lot of money. It represents about $116,000 today. For a team of men to survey across the 500-plus miles of canal lands; draw up the maps and compile the notes; then copy and deliver; all seems like a lot to ask. So looking at it just from that perspective, Hutchinson’s methods of cutting corners may have appealed to the Commissioners. They get the job completed and stay within the budget. I have not found anything that might suggest that the Commissioners looked at the Statute and the costs, and said that there was no way to get this done. So one way or another, the survey was getting done.

But leaving that as it is, as the survey work proceeded there may have developed a far larger reason for cutting corners. Through the statute, the State was seeking to know what lands did the State purchase, acquire, or simply build over with little regard to ownership? Although the State Legislature may have wanted to know the answer, this was a question the Commissioners did not wish to answer. Trumpbour pointed this out in a letter from 1831. If the reason for the maps were; “to furnish an authentic and precise record of the land belonging to the State, so that the owners of adjoining lands may know where the boundary line is, and that in controversies which may arise, evidence may be easily obtained from the county clerks office, to determine the respective rights of the State and of individuals”, then, Trumpbour went onto say, that the Hutchinson maps “will not furnish any such evidence. The boundaries of the State property are not actually run, but are artificial lines laid down on the map and depend upon a base line on the margin of the canal.”9 This question about land ownership may have been the can of worms that the Commissioners did not wish to open as they wrote, “…it will be seen that there is no record or public document (except the deeds which have been taken) which designates, or describes the bounds of the lands appropriated or purchased for the canals…”10

Jacob Trumpbour began his survey in the spring of 1829 at Port Byron. Trumpbour said that before he had begun his work he had met with both the Surveyor-General DeWitt, and Canal Commissioner Seymour, and settled on the method of survey. He began his work, but in June 1829, he fell ill and took a couple months off to recuperate while he stayed in his temporary home in Port Byron. During this time, Hutchinson stopped by and they discussed the survey methods. Hutchinson later admitted that he did not object to any of the methods that Trumpbour was using. In August Trumpbour had recovered from his illness and continued his work until late fall. In November Trumpbour stopped his work for the season and traveled to Rome to compare notes with Hutchinson. By this time Trumpbour had completed his survey on all of the Cayuga Seneca Canal and eighty-five miles of the Erie.

In his visit Trumpbour discovered that Hutchinson had not been so productive. In September 1829, Hutchinson hired Edwin Johnson to conduct the survey for him. By his later testimony, Johnson suggested that either he alone, or perhaps with Hutchinson, had come up with the plan of using the baseline off the towing path.11 By the time Trumpbour had stopped work for the season, Edwin Johnson had only completed about thirty to forty miles of work. As Trumpbour and Hutchinson compared their surveys they discovered the difference in methods, the outside-in, and the inside-out. And here it gets messy.

So when was Mr. Trumpbour made aware of this change, or perhaps we should say adoption of methods by Hutchinson? Remember that Hutchinson had been shown Trumpbour’s work in the summer of 1829 and had not voiced any concerns. Trumpbour, working under the idea that he had the approval of the canal commissioners, advised Hutchinson that he (Holmes) was incorrectly conducting the survey. Of course Hutchinson disagreed and the men took the issue to the canal board. It was at this meeting that Trumpbour also learned that some on the Board, along with Hutchinson, thought that Trumpbour was working for Hutchinson and not for the Board. Instead of walking away or adopting Hutchinson’s methods, Trumpbour simply dismissed the notion that he was an employee of Hutchinson. Trumpbour clearly felt that he had been awarded one half the survey and that he was working for the Board. Hutchinson thought that he had been awarded the entire survey and had been forced by the board to take Trumpbour on as an employee.

That winter of 1829/30, both sets of surveys were sent to the Surveyor General for his opinion. He said that Trumpbour’s were the best, but asked for the two men to settle the dispute and continue. If not, both should continue and complete their work, make their maps and submit them to the board. The State did not wish to pay either man to resurvey his work that was already complete.

On May 20, 1830, Trumpbour wrote to Seymour and told him that he is proceeding with his work and if Seymour has any comments to make, to do it to him. At this time Seymour wrote back telling him that he was not to continue work. “The Commissioners consider Mr. Hutchinson as the sole contractor for the survey of the canals, will hold him responsible for its due performance, and will pay him and him only, for the expense of completion.”12 Trumpbour was undaunted. He wrote to Seymour on August 31, 1830, telling him that he had completed his work. However no one from the State would reply to his letters.

In February, 1831, Trumpbour traveled to Albany for a face-to-face meeting with the Canal Commissioners, or finding no satisfaction there, with the Legislature. He learned that Hutchinson had been dispatched to resurvey all of Trumpbour’s work. He was outraged by this action, and he told the Commissioners that the work Hutchinson is doing is worthless; “Your memorialist would neglect that duty which every citizen owes his country, if he failed to apprise the Legislature that the surveys and fields notes made under the direction of Mr. Hutchinson, will not attain the object for which the map is directed. That object is believed to be, to furnish an authentic and precise record of the land belonging to the State, so that the owners of adjoining lands may know where the boundary line is, and that in controversies which may arise, evidence may be easily obtained from the county clerk’s office, to determine the respective rights of the State and of Individuals.”13

In his efforts to make a proper survey, Jacob Trumpbour may have stumbled upon something that the State did not wish to be common knowledge, or at least make evidence of easily attainable. It appears that Trumpbour saw his duty to the State and to his fellow citizens to provide them with the information they needed to settle canal land disputes. Whether it was surveyors pride, or a chance to help the State, he seemed to have reached the opinion that the records of who owned what was a complete mess. He continued to write; “Your memorialist is constrained to say, from an examination of the maps and field notes made by the persons employed by Mr. Hutchinson, that they will not furnish any such evidence. The boundaries of the State property are not actually run, but are artificial lines laid down on the map, and depend upon a base line on the margin of the canal, and upon off-sets across the canal and towing –path, leaving the outlines which constitutes the boundaries on the map, to be located without the aid of any written description of them, and without courses or distances, the buildings and other permanent monuments along the canal are not described, nor is their position designated in reference to any point of the outlines. This has been the general plans adopted by the surveyor employed by Mr. Hutchinson; but when they came to a basin or other place, when it was impossible to measure across the canal, they have abandoned their plan and pursued that of your memorialist. An inspection of the maps and field notes made by those surveyors, will more fully exhibit the radical defect of their plan.” Then Trumpbour went on with what he thought was the key issue in his favor. But perhaps not knowing or realizing who he was appealing to, it all seems to have worked against him; “Your memorialist would further represent, that in making the survey herein before mentioned, he could discover no releases to the State, of land occupied for the purposes of the canal, no entries by the appraisers or Canal Commissioners, of lands appropriated for those purposes, as required by law, and in fact no evidence whatsoever, of the title to any such property being vested in the State, (except in a few instances where information has been forwarded to your memorialist by the Comptroller, to whom your memorialist was referred by the Canal Commissioners for information, they stating that there were no documents on the subject in their possession).” Jacob went onto say that he had; “…surveyed and marked out the boundary lines on each side of the State property, and has designed the same on his maps, with their course and distances. When completed, they are to be accompanied by a written description of the boundaries on both sides of the lands belonging to the State, with the necessary references to buildings and other permanent monuments.”14

In the winter of 1832, Trumpbour wrote to the Legislature that he desired payment for his work completed. He included a letter written to him from Holmes Hutchinson asking if Trumpbour would like to work for him, resurveying his own work using Hutchinson’s methods. Jacob had refused to answer. And then the whole matter went before the State Legislature for settlement.

Assembly Document #334, June 27, 1832, is a fascinating investigation into the facts of this case. It covers the investigation of the select committee to whom the case of Holmes v Trumpbour has been referred. Early in the report the Committee seems to agree with Trumpbour on that the Statutes called for a survey of the canal. And to make a proper survey a man needs to make an actual map of the canal boundaries. Surveyor-General Simmon DeWitt the was asked to appear before the Committee and asked to read the Statutes. He concurred with the Committee and in large part with the methods of Jacob Trumpbour. The Committee seemed to grasp that the reliance of the towing path as a base line is questionable, since it is not a fixed point since weather, frost, wear and tear, or floods, could cause it to move and shift. John Kiersted, who was a witness called by Trumpbour, (and a student of William Cockburn) testified that Jacob’s survey matched what the Statutes call for; “I do not conceive the survey of Mr. Hutchinson to be conformable to the requirements of the act, because it gives no actual location on the ground, by metes and bounds of visible monuments, designating the division lines between the lands of the State and those of individuals: because also, his manner of taking offsets without taking the course of them by the compass, is, in my judgment, too loose for any survey.”15

This point was made again by the Surveyor-General to the Legislative Committee. Hutchinson method was to use canal features such as locks and other structures along the canal to pin his survey to the landscape. But what happened when there are no locks nearby? If one was to use the Hutchinson map to settle a property dispute, the Surveyor-General would need to begin a resurvey of the canal at the nearest lock even if it was twenty miles away. Trumpbour’s method was to use nearby objects to lock his survey to the landscape by using monuments on trees or buildings. Hutchinson’s defense of his methods centered on the ability and ease of the surveyor to walk along the edge of the canal banks, and precisely measure them with a surveyor’s chain. Later, in response to this, the Committee noted; “The great pains which Mr. Hutchinson has taken to prove by witnesses the innumerable difficulties of surveying the boundaries of the public property, as will appear by a reference to the affidavits, seems to have little other tendency that to shew [show] the steady fortitude, and unyielding perseverance , with which that duty has been actually performed by Jacob Trumpbour, according to the true construction of the statute, and the design of the Legislature, so far as that could be done.”16

Trumpbour had brought in as his witnesses surveyors from the Cockburn school of surveying. Cockburn has taught him and his friends and relatives and Jacob found them to be friendly witnesses. But Hutchinson was a long term canal employee and also had many friends. He decided to bring in the big gun to back his methods. He was able to get John Jervis, the well-known canal engineer. Unfortunately, Jervis was not a great witness for Hutchinson. At the beginning of his testimony, he was asked by the Committee if he had the opportunity to examine Hutchinson’s methods. He replied; “I suppose it is the book I have seen here in the committee room; I have looked at a few pages of it only, and cannot say I have examined further than to ascertain the plan upon which the survey was conducted, but not sufficient to give the details.” Jervis was then asked if he had seen Trumpbour’s maps and plans. He replied that he had given it the same examination as Hutchinson’s. Apparently, Jervis had not been prepped for this testimony, but under questioning he did state that he would conduct a similar survey much in the same fashion as Hutchinson. Jervis was then asked by Hutchinson’s lawyer; “Can you, from Mr. Hutchinson’s survey, map and field book, or either of them, ascertain, without further measurements on the ground, how many feet and inches, or chains and links, any buildings along the canal encroach upon the State property?” Jervis’ answer is brief; “Not without it is described in the field book.” [ed- I believe this should say, “Not as it is described in the field book.”] The Committee then asked; “Does the field book contain any such description?” Jervis: “I have not noticed any description in reference to buildings in the field book, but there may be such entries contained in it. My examination of it has been brief. In examining some cases upon the first sheet of the atlas of the survey of the Champlain Canal by Mr. Hutchinson, I think it would be necessary to take a measurement on the ground from some offset, to ascertain the encroachment.” Jervis is then asked, based on his examination of the maps, which survey better describes; “the parcels of land taken by the State for the use of the canals?” Jervis again stated that he is not sufficiently acquainted with the plans, but added; “…but from what I have seen from the samples produced, there is more fullness in Judge Trumpbour’s specimens of field book, submitted, and should rather give it the preference over that of Mr. Hutchinson…”17 If John Jervis had been called in to bolster Hutchinson’s case, he does not seen to have gotten the message. Or perhaps, once he saw Hutchinson’s methods, he couldn’t wholeheartedly support them.

Even Hutchinson’s own employee, a Mr. Edwin Johnson, wasn’t a good witness for his boss. The Committee reported that; “his atlas [of the survey of the Champlain Canal] is a very beautiful topographical map of that canal. Its practical utility is, as we have seen, a very different matter.” John told the Committee that he; “…was not directed to notice any interference or encroachment by the erection of buildings on the State property.” He went on to say; “The object of the survey was to obtain the means of determining at any future day, with the greatest practical degree of precision, the boundaries of the State property. It was with reference to that leading object, that all measurements were made.” He went onto say that either he or Hutchinson regarded most of the buildings on Canal property to be of a temporary nature.18

The Committee came to the conclusion that Hutchinson was making a survey for surveyors. His methods were to allow others who might have questions concerning canal property the means to begin their own surveys, whereas Trumpbour was making a survey for the people. As they began to close, the Committee pointed out very clearly at the lack of leadership by the Canal Board lead to the problem of method of survey. The Statute called for a survey and it was up to the Canal Board to set the method before work began. They had not done this and instead once the matter came to a head, they adopted Hutchinson’s methods; “without expressing any decisive opinion thereon.”19

Everyone on the Committee seemed to agree that the Trumpbour method were better in all respects. And they agreed that Trumpbour had finished his part of the survey and produced field books and rough maps. So the question came back to who did Trumpbour work for? If it was the State, then the State should pay him. But if it was Hutchinson and Trumpbour did not do the work the way Hutchinson wished it done, even if it was not as good as Trumpbour’s, then he should not be paid. The Canal Board may have seen this as the loophole to reach their goal.

The Canal Commissioners were not to be deterred. In their Annual Report of 1833, they lashed back at the findings of the Assembly Committee in a remarkable rebuttal that includes a rewriting of the goals of the 1827 Statute. Since the Statute placed the survey in the hands of the Canal Commissioners, then; “The statute evidently contemplates that the survey, map and field notes be made in such a manner as shall be approved of by the Canal Board.”20 So the argument, the Commissioners reasoned, was that it was up to the Commissioners to advise the Canal Board and the Assembly as to the proper way to carry out the Statute. If they chose Holmes Hutchinson, then that was their duty, regardless of the method of survey. The Commissioners reasoned that the Assembly really wanted two surveys to be completed. The first was of the lands appropriated for the canal. The second was to survey the lands adjunct to the canal complete with names and titles. They wrote; “The [Assembly] committee have evidently confounded these two classes of cases; and they seem to suppose that the statute requires ‘an actual survey on the ground…’” 21 If the Statute had wished a real survey of all the grounds, they should have appropriated at least $15,000 instead of the $5000. And, the Commissioners argued, “It has been the uniform practice of the Commissioners to reserve the power in their contracts of limiting, controlling, and changing the mode of their execution, whenever, in their judgment, the interests of the State require it.” 22 With this re-reading and re-writing of the Statute, then Holmes Hutchinson was simply carrying out the first phase of the survey as the Commissioners felt best for the people of the State. They also added; “The misconstructions which they [the Assembly Committee] have put upon the acts of the Canal Commissioners and the Canal Board, will be passed over in silence.” 23 They had not been given the opportunity to defend themselves before the Assembly Committee, so they wrote that they were using the Annual Report of 1832 to put the matter to rights. However, even in their rebuttal, they admitted that many of the agreements reached between Trumpbour and the Commissioners were informal, and that the Surveyor-General had given an “offhand and verbal assent” to the survey methods proposed by Trumpbour. And since the Statute had been entrusted to the Canal Commissioners, the Surveyor-General did not have the authority to say anything one way of the other.

In the mean time, the Albany Evening Journal was having a good time covering the issue. “Among the petitions presented to the House of Assembly this morning, was the memorial of Jacob Trumpour, which discloses some extraordinary facts in relation to the conduct of the Canal Commissioners, and the situation of the property belonging to the State.”24 A year later, the Journal again laid out the facts of the case, showing examples of how some in the Albany Regency were attempting to squash the claim and the investigation. The case would cause embarrassment to some in the party if they came to the light of day.25 On February 2, 1834, the Journal wrote;

“Judge Trumpour’s Claim- The Canal Commissioners obtained a vote in the Assembly, yesterday, which again defeats the liquidation of this claim. For the last two years, when they were too weak to defeat it by direct vote, it was by various legislative arts and contrivances, left as unfinished business.

It is a singular fact in the history of this claim, that no member of the Legislature whose duty it has been made to examine it thoroughly, has arrived at a conclusion adverse to the claimant. Two years ago an intelligent Committee, consisting of Mr. Hammond, or New York, Mr. Hogeboom, of Columbia, and Mr. M’Donald, of Washington, were appointed, with power to send for persons and papers, and to sit thirty days during the recess of the Legislature, for the purpose of making a full investigation of the subject. The result was an entire and unanimous conviction of the justice of this claim.

This Report was submitted to the last House of Assembly, in which so many members were familiar with the subject that the Regency dare not come to a direct vote, and therefore bent all their exertions to give it the go-by.

It is the opinion of all competent, disinterested judges, that Judge Trumpour’s survey of the Canals is the only true and practiced one, and one which will ultimately be adopted. But Holmes Hutchinson, the pet Engineer, and the partner of Henry Seymour, in various Canal Speculations, has been paid for the entire survey: and now, to relieve the Commissioners from the odjurn of having overpaid their pet Engineer.”26

While this was going on, Holmes Hutchinson applied to the Canal Board in January 1835 for additional funds for the completion of the making of the survey and maps. This was then turned over to the Assembly His expenses were over $6000, a figure that did not include his own time, plus he was seeking to cover the cost of counsel for the Assembly investigation.27 In 1836, Hutchinson was awarded an additional $2,545.

The matter of Trumpbour v Hutchinson was repeatedly introduced and legislatively given the “go-by” In 1837 an Assembly Committee wrote that they had “not been able to ascertain whether there ever was any understanding between the memorialist [Trumpbour] and Hutchinson, or the Canal Commissioners, as to what precise plan of survey should have been adopted; nor does it appear with certainty, whether the memorialist was expected to be governed by Hutchinson’s directions in that particular, the evidence on these points having been somewhat loose and conflicting.” And they finished with; “[The Committee] are also of opinion that the weight of testimony is decidedly in favor of the superiority of the mode of surveying pursued by the memorialist.”28 This committee also stated that Trumpbour should be paid for his services before and after his dismissal and for his efforts in pursuing his claim.

In 1838the Committee of Claims of the Assembly once again ruled in favor of Trumpbour, but only for his work of doing half of the survey and not for his efforts since to collect his money.29 The bill was introduced into the Assembly and passed. The matter was then sent over to the Senate, where the Committee on Canals took up the issue. After reviewing the years of investigations and claims, the Committee made their observations, of which I summarize here. Hutchinson had been given the contract and had he allowed Trumpbour to take half the work, and that an agreement had been entered into by both men. That both Hutchinson and Trumpbour had agreed on the method of survey and that Hutchinson would head up the drawing of the final maps. That Trumpbour had gone off on his own before he had the agreement of the Canal Commissioners. That Trumpbour had been given notice in 1830 by the Commissioners. That Trumpbour had already been given $500. That Trumpbour had rejected Hutchinson’s offer to resurvey the canal. That Trumpbour had finished his surveys without the agreement of the Commissioners once they had terminated him. That Trumpbour had forced his services upon the State because he had felt his methods were better. That it was up to the Canal Commissioners to decide on what plan of survey they wished to have used. That Trumpbour, if his figures were correct, had spent nearly $4000, $1500 more than the $2500 he would have received and based on this alone, Trumpbour should have been happy that he had released from his contract. That based on his figures, Trumpbour was overpaid for his work in 1829.

After stating all this, the Committee then wrote that they were “disposed to take a more practical, and they believe, a more just and equitable view of the subject.”30 They stated that the initial agreements were; “founded in mutual misunderstanding.” They wrote that Trumpbour should be paid for his services in 1829; “although” they added, “his services were of no value to the State.” Using figures based on estimates of surveying of “experienced engineers” they agreed to pay him a fee per mile, minus his $500, plus his interest over the last ten years, for a total award of $287.58. Then they stated that Trumpbour should not be given money for his services forced upon the State, nor for his time in sittings of the Legislature. They finished with; “although there are doubtless cases of individual hardship and injustice, it is better they should be endured, than that a precedent so pernicious should be set as that of inviting the services of claimants against the State in the legislative halls, by offering them a bounty.”31

With that, the matter was over.

But let us go back to Trumpbour’s claim that the Holmes Hutchinson maps were worthless as a legal document to determine the ownership of State or private lands. This issue was never really addressed in the end. Perhaps the Canal Board was able to divert the issues raised by Trumpbour by focusing on the question if he was a contractor of the State or employee of Hutchinson, and if he had the right to be paid for the work he had done. All the other issues were swept under the legal rug. In 1837, the Legislature passed a law, Chapter 451, declared that the Hutchinson maps; “…are hereby declared to be presumptive evidence that the lands indicated on said maps as belonging to the state, have been taken and appropriated by the state as and for the canals…” which basically reaffirms the 1828 Statute.32 The timing of this ruling seems odd as well with the maps becoming Law in 1837 and Trumpbour receiving his ruling in 1838.

There are many ways to look at this affair. In 1854, the Court of Appeals in Rexford v Knight ruled that landowners who lost land to the building of the canal had one year after the 1828 Statute to make claims to the State.33 The Court reasoned that the 1828 Statutes that ordered the making of the maps also gave landowners a year to ask for damages from the loss of land during the building of the canal. But the maps that might help the landowners were not even begun until 1829 and not finished until 1834.

The Hutchinson maps continued to emerge as legal evidence of State ownership even after the State repealed a number of canal acts in 1894 and 1909. In the case of People’s Gas and Electric Company v. The State of New York (1918), the State asserted that even though the State had appealed the use of the 1834 maps as evidence of State ownership, it really didn’t mean to and that the State should be allowed to use the 1834 blue-line. The State lost the case, but not on this technicality.

I have attempted to discover if the Jacob Trumpbour maps or field notes are still in existence or have been lost to history. The NYS Archives do not have them. I have also reached out to the Trumpbour family, but so far, no one knows much about Jacob.

In the end, the Holmes Hutchinson maps are a fantastic historical resource and in some areas they are the first maps of canal villages and towns. As I noted in the introduction, In Cayuga County the Hutchinson maps predate all other maps by over twenty years. Hutchinson’s field notebooks remain intact and are another great resource sometimes showing details missing on the published maps. And the Hutchinson maps make another appearance as dotted lines showing the first canal in the 1896 George Schillner Enlargement maps

But darn, wouldn’t it be fun to see those Trumpbour maps?

1 In addition to these maps, the NYS Archives collection includes the field notebooks you will read about later.

2 Whitford. In 1896, Daniel Wager gave Holmes’s birthplace as Genoa, Cayuga County, NY. Daniel Wager, Our County and Its People, The Boston History Company, 1896.

3 The name is also spelled as Trumbour or Tremper. Background on the family is found at the New York State Library, Manuscripts and Special Collections, Cockburn Family Land Papers, SC7004.

4 About $115,963 in 2007 dollars.

5 The Revised Statutes of the State of New York, Packard and Van Benthuysen, Albany. 1829. Title Nine begins on page 217.

6 Docs #334, pg 13.

7 For a good primer on old survey methods and reading of deeds, see; Philip L. Lord, Jr. Mills on the Tsatsawassa. New York State Museum. 1983. In later surveys of the canal the chain used was 100 feet long instead of 66 feet.

8 The methods used by the surveyors are at the core of the issue and are described in many places. I used the testimony by Augustus Tremain for this description. Docs #334, pgs 26-30.

9 Docs #188, pages 21-22. A letter from Jacob Trumpbour to the Canal Commissioners.

10 Docs #188, page 5.

11 Docs#334, page 48.

12 Docs #188, Page 20.

13 Doc’s #188, page 22.

14 Docs #188, page 23.

15 Docs#334, page 21-22.

16 Docs #334, pages 41-42.

17 Docs #334, pages 36-40.

18 Docs #334, page 44.

19 Docs #334, page 46.

20 Assembly Docs #36, 1833. Page 17.

21 Docs#36, page 20.

22 Docs #36, page 21

23 Docs#36, page 21.

24 Albany Evening Journal, Thursday, March 24, 1831.

25 AEJ, April 25, 1832.

26 AEJ, Friday, February 28, 1834.

27 See Documents of the Assembly, #140, 1835.

28 Docs #45, 1837

29 Assembly Docs #182, 1838.

30 Senate Docs #66, 1838

31 Senate Docs #66, page 7.

32 Laws, 1837, Chapter 451, page 518.

33 Reports of the Cases in the Court of Appeals, Vol 1. WC Little and Co. Albany. 1855. Pages 308-315. This case argues that the original land owner should have gotten his land back once the canal stopped using the land when the canal was moved during the Enlargement. The State felt that it had the right to sell the land since it had taken ownership during the building of the canal and that the owners had the opportunity to apply for damages. Evidence of ownership was shown in the Hutchinson maps.

The Gard and Vodrey Sandy and Beaver Canal maps

I found these two maps in the back pocket of the wonderfully researched and written, “The Sandy and Beaver Canal” by Ronald Max Gard and William H. Vodrey, Jr. The book was published by the East Liverpool Historical Society, East Liverpool, Ohio, in 1952. There was a reprint in 1972, and as far as I can see, no one has new copies for sale. The book can be found in some libraries and on the various book sellers, although finding a copy with the maps will cost you a good bit. I also found an old link to a CD copy of the book, but it was dead.

If you have an interest in the canal, chapter 20 is titled; Guide to the Canal, and it is a structure by structure guide for the 90 locks and 30 dams along the 73 mile-long canal. However, the authors caution that their map is a reconstruction based on a couple period maps and that they were not able to “reconcile” a few locks.

Terry Woods, who was a friend of both men, and served as the president of the Canal Society of Ohio and of this organization, sent along this note;

In the intervening years (since the publication of the book) a great deal of additional information has surfaced. So, while the book is terrific and I encourage everyone interested in the nation’s canal era to read it if available, the guide is not that accurate. The middle division is great. I always thought the Eastern division was accurate, though I’ve just been engaged in a series of e-mail sessions with a couple of historians who, through intense efforts in field work and electronic map looking, are attempting to correct some errors in Max’s Eastern Division guide. Max had some serious errors in the guide of the Western Division. I did some intense field work in the early 90s and published a typewritten guide to the western division around the turn of the century. However, more work needs to be done on it.

After reading through Terry’s guide, I must say it is a remarkable bit of field investigation. However, he welcomes any corrections or other comments. I have been using it to update the canal sites map.

Click here to open image window.
Maps of the Sandy and Beaver canal.
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Book Review- Amazing Virginia Canals

Amazing Virginia Canals; A Virginia Canals and Navigations Society River Atlas Project. Published January 2020, $35.00 (plus tax and shipping) , hardcover, 70 pages in large format. Available through the Virginia Canals and Navigations Society online store at www.vacanals.org

Bill Trout’s canal biography is long and active. He is a American Canal Society founder and past president. He is a founder and president of the Virginia Canals and Navigations Society. He even lives in the Virginia Canal Museum! (his house). A check of the ACS archives shows dozens of articles authored by Bill. In addition, Bill has authored a great variety of books about the history of Virginia’s canals and inland navigations. He has hinted that this is his last book.

This work is not the typical “history of the canals” book. It doesn’t start with the state governor shoveling the first bit of soil, and end with the canal being closed forever. Instead, Bill introduces the rivers and canals of Virginia by way of historical episodes that took place along the waterways. The table of contents lists the events and a corresponding map helps to pinpoint where it took place in the state. Then each event is given a full two-page spread. On the left side/page, Bill gives a short history and important details. For some sites, Bill presents a map or sketch to help explain the site. Even with the limits of space on one page, there are plenty of details to satisfy the canal enthusiast. And when needed, there are references to help you do some follow up. On the right hand page there are some very nice paintings or drawings to help you visualize the scene. One of the artists calls this artwork a historical illustrations. The reason for this term is that the artists have studied the event, and then using their knowledge, they create what they feel is a representation of what was happening at that moment. Most of the artwork is by Art Markel (1926-2007) and William Hoffman (b:1941), both of who were active members of the VC&NS, and they knew their subjects well. The paintings were well photographed and are presented in vibrant color.

The VC&NS also sent along a copy of; The Dismal Swamp Nobody Knows: The Immortal Dismalites, the capture of the Arrow, and other historical events brought to life for the first time. William Hoffman and William Trout, III. Published 2016, $10.00 (plus tax and shipping), softcover. Also available through the website.

This book follows the same format as the Amazing Virginia Canals. A series of events are presented, each with background facts and references, and then a full page illustration. However, all these events take place in the Great Dismal Swamp, and all the artwork is by William (Sarge) Hoffman. Sarge is the artist who coined the term historical illustrations, and notes that he enjoys being the first to try to depict a event or place never seen before. Although not strictly a canal book, there are plenty of Dismal Swamp Canal facts. However, as the author notes, the goal of the book is to raise awareness of the Great Dismal Swamp, its history, and the many recreational opportunities available there.

Book these books are enjoyable to read and a pleasure to look through. And it you are not familiar with the canals and navigations, or swamps, of Virginia, these will serve as great introductions to the subject.

A 1923 Walk Along the Morris Canal

A friend sent along a chapter from the 1923 New York Walk Book. Abe Books describes the book as, “Suggestions for excursion afoot within a radius of fifty to one hundred miles of the city and including Westchester County, the Highlands of the Hudson and the Ramapo, northern and central New Jersey and the New Jersey Pine Barrens, Long Island, the Shawangunk Range, the Catskills and the Taconics.”

This edition includes a walk along the Morris Canal, which in 1923, was still “functioning”. I use the quotes, as it was in fairly bad shape by this time. However as the narrative suggests, it was hoped that the state would preserve it as a museum piece. Of course, this did not happen. In 1925, the aqueduct seen in this image was blown up. Here is the short chapter and map.

The Erie Canal Sings; A Musical History of New York’s Grand Waterway, by Dr. William (Bill) Hullfish with Dave Ruch

Paperback 224 pages Printed by Arcadia Publishing and The History Press. $21.99

All too often, any new book about the historic canals is basically a rehash of the same old, same old. After all, there are only so many ways we can learn about how Dewitt Clinton was the father of the Erie Canal. It is the rare pleasure when an author takes another road and takes a deep dive into a completely new area of study. Carol Sheriff’s “The Artificial River” is one of these books where you begin to learn something new from page number one. And so it is with “The Erie Canal Sings”. This is a totally new look at something that has been there in plain sight all along, the songs of the canallers. But be cautioned and don’t let the title mislead you. This is a book about many canals in many states, not just the Erie. Everyone will find something of home in this book.

In his introduction, Dr. Hullfish states that he has been collection and preforming these canal songs for over fifty years His prior work, The Canaller’s Songbook continues to be used by canal groups and folk musicians far and wide. It only makes sense that after singing these tunes for all these years, he has finally written a book to answer the questions; “Who wrote them, Who sang them, and What did they mean?”

Let me share my bias. I am not a musician. I can not carry a tune, nor do I particularly enjoy listening to music. I rarely pay attention on those occasions when a wandering troubadour happens to cross my path. I was really quite ready to not like this book. But I was wrong, this is a marvelous little read. It will introduce you to songs you have never heard about, and reintroduce you to old favorites. However, this is not a songbook. If you are looking for the full lyrics of these songs, go hunt up a copy of The Canaller’s Songbook. The Erie Canal Sings is a full on history book presented in a very light and easy manner. You will learn about the songs and poems that were used by the canal workers and entertainers of the canal period. This is a nice change in canal scholarship as there are so many times that we get lost in the details of canal history that we forget that at its core, it is always a history of the people. Who built the canals, who ran the boats, who worked the locks and so much more. And many of these people used these songs because they were happy, sad, afraid, or to reassure their animal teams.

Yes, of course, Bill gets into the big daddy of all canal songs. He calls it, “America’s Canal Song”. This of course is Low Bridge by Thomas Allen. This song is sung by every 4th grade class, at every canal event, and on every canal boat ride. It is either loved or hated by canal enthusiasts, but it is inescapable. It even appears in the 1935 film “The Farmer Takes a Wife” being sung by the crew of an 1850’s canal boat, even though it wasn’t written until the beginning of the 20th Century. Bill goes into the history of the song and it’s author, and in doing so, he tries to clear up many misconceptions. You will even learn the truth about if it was “fifteen miles” or “fifteen years” on the E-ri-e Canal. In the end, you will learn that was not a song of the 1850’s canal boatmen, but a song of nostalgia, recalling what was being lost as the old Erie disappeared and the new Barge Canal was built.

There is the obligatory history of the canal, keeping in mind that not everyone who picks up this book will be up to date on their canal history. So in order to give some context, Bill spends a short chapter on Erie Canal history, but of course, it is seen through some verse. This is nicely done. Other chapters will take you through the life of the canaller, and then into what happened as the canals began to fade away.

This is a nice light read. For those of you who can carry a tune, you will likely hum or sing your way through this musical journey as you learn some new and interesting facts. Thanks to Dr. Hullfish, who has indeed given us a refreshingly new book. I congratulate him for giving us all another way to learn about our canal history. I also thank Arcadia and The History Press for publishing it.

You can purchase The Erie Canal Sings through Amazon.

Book Review – Geography, Geology, and Genius

Geography, Geology, and Genius; How Coal and Canals Ignited the American Industrial Revolution by Martha Capwell Fox. 228 pages with numerous illustrations. Canal History and Tecnology Press, 2019 Suggested Retail Price $24.95. Available at the National Canal Museum website –https://canals.org/shop/

The Delaware and Lehigh National Heritage Corridor was established in 1988. It covers five counties in southeastern Pennsylvania and it is based around the Delaware and Lehigh rivers. Martha Capwell Fox serves as the archivist and historian for the Heritage Corridor, a position that makes her well suited to write a book that covers the history of the two valleys and surrounding region.

Martha begins by recounting how she and Tom Stonebeck rediscovered a 369-page Historic Resources Study, that was written to support the creation of the Heritage Corridor. She calls this study a “sweeping, monumental, detailed telling” of the D&L Corridor that no one read (once the Corridor had been established). One can understand that these studies are written to be read by academic professionals and perhaps political staff, not for the general public. None-the-less, if one takes the time to dive into one, they will find that these reports contain lots of valuable information. Mr. Stonebeck, then the Executive Director of the National Canal Museum, asked Martha to go through the report and perhaps make a readable book out of it that would help everyone understand the significance of the D&L Corridor. Martha has accomplished this goal and more. As a historian, she understands that at the core of all history are the people who lived, worked, and died; and without telling their stories, much of the history rings hollow. After all, what would a canal boat be without its crew? Plus, she has an additional three decades of learning and listening to help round out the history of the region, so you will benefit from those who came before her and from her own research.

The book starts in the late 1700’s, and works it way up through the 1960’s. Each chapter covers a topic and a period of time. Weaving throughout are the rivers, the canals, and the railroads, since without these means of transportation, there never would have been the development in the region. Coal also plays a large part in the story, but it is not the only part. Coal may have began the building of wealth, but once a businessman was wealthy, they often divested into other industries. So you will find sections on; cement, silk, iron and steel production, Mack trucks, zinc, Dixie Cups, the war effort, and much more.

As Martha develops the chapters, and when she wishes to present the biography of the people involved, she interweaves a separate side-bar biography. Some of these are a full one-page, while others might be a half-page. This is a nice touch, since it doesn’t clutter up the narrative by trying to fit the full lifetime biography into the story. It also allows the reader the chance just to focus on the individual.

The illustrations are remarkably clear and well presented. And there are plenty of them. In the main chapters, all are black and white or greyscale. A small chapter after the Epilogue is titled; The Corridor in Color, where a number of noteworthy images are presented in color. Thankfully, the illustrations are woven throughout the text and not segregated to a few pages in the middle of the book.

For the well informed canal enthusiast, you will learn little new here. Other works have told the story of the Lehigh and Delaware Canals. However, the focus on the river navigation and canals are covered in the first couple chapters. After that, you will find a fascinating history of the many industries that were built along the rivers and canals, and perhaps be surprised at the great variety in manufacturing. And if you know nothing of the area, this is a excellent introduction. Hopefully, all will be motivated to visit the Heritage Corridor. It is a beautiful area with lots to see and do.

Martha ends the book with a really nice epilogue of how the region has changed throughout the years, and what are the current conditions of the geology, conservation, tourism, manufacturing, education, and more. Martha met the goals laid out by Tom Stonebeck. She has taken a well researched and dense report and turned it into a even better researched and presented book. You will not be disappointed.

Book Review – Everything Worthy of Observation

Everything Worthy of Observation; The 1826 New York State Travel Journal of Alexander Stewart Scott. Edited by Paul G. Schneider Jr. Excelsior Editions, 2019. 183 pages. $23.95

The book is based upon the diary of Alexander Stewart Scott, a 21-year-old Canadian who took a three-month long tour across New York State in 1826. This book offers first person insights to what travel was like in the days of canal packets, stage coaches and steamboats. Scott began his travels in Quebec City, then traveled south by boat along Lake Champlain and Lake George. He then boarded a coach to Schenectady, where he caught a packet boat west on the new Erie canal. He would then continue to Geneva and Niagara Falls. After experiencing both the American and Canadian sides of the Niagara, he returned home by the same route. Although this is not a canal book, you do read a brief description of travel on a packet boat.

The diary was found tucked away in the archives of the New York State Library, having been purchased from a local book dealer in 1954. The diary was rediscovered in 2015 by a doctoral student and soon after, Mr. Schneider took up the daunting task task of transcribing the entire journal. The book is more then a word for word transcription. The editor has employed a light touch in cleaning up the text, filling in the holes where Mr. Scott used abbreviations or punctuation that might confuse the present day reader. But more importantly, Mr. Schneider has researched Mr. Scott and his travels. For instance, he found documents that prove Mr. Scott was a passenger on a boat when he said he was. This is important as it demonstrates that what Mr. Scott is seeing and experiencing what he is writing about. All this background research is included in the book. First, a lengthy chapter introduces Mr. Scott, his family, and the world that he was traveling through. It also documents the diary, and the process that Mr. Schneider used to transcribe and present the work. Second, there is a very long end-notes section where the editor offers greater details and offers context when needed. The only issue with this method is that the reader needs two book marks, as you will find yourself constantly flipping between Mr. Scott’s diary, and Mr. Schneider’s notes. However, the book is much richer for these notes. An Afterword gives a short biography of Mr. Scott’s life, which sadly, ends in a tragedy not of his own making.

In addition to the end-notes, the book uses 44 maps and illustrations to compliment the text. The maps are from travel guides of the period, such as The Northern Traveler, and arrows note the route that Mr. Scott likely followed. The illustrations are also mostly from the period and help you to experience what Mr. Scott was seeing.

While there are no big plot twists awaiting the reader, reading Mr. Scott’s journal will greatly benefit those who study the history of early transportation in a young America, or those who act as docents, and wish to enrich there own historical narratives.