Tag: Book Review

Book Review – The Raging Erie by Mark S. Ferrara

The Raging Erie: Life and Labor Along the Erie Canal, by Mark S. Ferrara, 259 pages.

I think it would be safe to say that well read canal researcher or enthusiast will not learn anything new from The Raging Erie as most of the material used has been taken from other books on the canal. In fact, the extensive footnotes clearly show that the entire book has been built upon the works of others who researched, and authored books and papers before him. However, if your interest was not on the societal impacts of the canal and the era upon certain classes of people, you could have been easily skipped over much of the material that Mr. Ferrara presents in his book. The Raging Erie is divided into seven topic chapters along with an introduction and conclusion. Each chapter closely looks at the lives of a different class of people or the resulting societal movements that took place during the 1800s. He notes that he proposes “instead a journey through canal life from the perspective of the ordinary folks who experienced firsthand the dislocating and alienating social consequences, the extreme class and income inequality, that this waterway wrought.”

I greatly enjoyed the the first chapter, Decline and Fall of the Iroquoia, as it lays bare the struggles of the Native Americans as they tried to deal and live with the newly immigrated white Europeans. Most canal historians skip over the displacement of these Peoples and begin their narrative with the 1810 journey of DeWitt Clinton or the first shovel of turned earth at Rome in 1817. I had recently read Memory Wars by A. Lynn Smith and found myself wanting to learn more of the Native Peoples. A trip to the local library resulted in a pile of suggested readings that mostly were geared to the elementary school student. It is safe to say that I learned more from this book then I learned from my library raid.

After the first very useful chapter, the author details the lives of the poorer folks who helped to build and maintain the work-a-day world of the 1800s. Here, at least for me, the book falters. This is not a book about the canals. Instead, Ferrara uses the canal as a backdrop to loosely pull in various social movements. Many of the events had nothing to do with the canal aside from taking place about the same time. For instance, in chapter four he tells about Anne Royall, a woman who is considered to be the last person to be tried as a witch. Anne’s only interaction with the canal was to travel along it in a packet. She lived and was active in Washington DC., and, if you do an internet search for her, much of the same material presented by Ferrara is readily accessible. (I found out that she coined the term “redneck.”)

I have grown fond of Dr. Karen Grey’s term “zombie history” and I use it often. And here is another case of potential zombie history run amok. For instance, Ferrara quotes George Condon’s Stars In The Water often, and although it was the first book that I ever read about the canals, it is generally not considered to be the work of a great scholar. I pulled out my copy of “Stars” and see the Condon never used footnotes and most of his work is built upon the authorship of others within the limited scope of a two page bibliography. So much for deep research.

Anyone who has researched their family knows that it can be very difficult to find information and life details about their poorer ancestors. The poor working class were illiterate and didn’t have time to write diaries. That is why a book such as A Midwife’s Tale is so important in developing an understanding of what life was like in the late 1700s, or Life on a Canalboat, The Journals of Theodore D. Bartley, 1861-1889, which provides details into the life of an actual person on the canal. Another great study is Anthony Wallace’s Rockdale which gives insight to the life of mill workers in a small town in Pennsylvania. Although I mention Midwife due to its rarity, the other two works certainly fall within the scope of Ferrara’s study period and he never mentions either. What really surprised me is that I didn’t see any use of newspapers to tell the story of the poor. On the rare occasion where your ancestor might be mentioned in history is either for their birth, death, marriage or when they were arrested. These stories may not have fit into the larger scope of this book, but if you are seeking details about the life of the poor working class, the digital files of thousands of newspapers should be consulted.

As a quick overview of, or a introduction to, the social movements of the 1800s, The Raging Erie can fill that space. A reader who has never picked up a canal history will be well served by this book. And for others, it might better serve as a sort of annotated bibliography to help you find other books that deal with the subject. Each chapter stands on its own and doesn’t require you to read the entire book. So with a scan of the sources you will have a starter list of books and readings that you can pursue to hopefully find some original material.

The last chapter of the book, neatly titled “Conclusion, Transforming Life and Labor in America” nicely ties the book together and might cause you to reconsider some notions about life along the canals. We do tend to glorify the canal era, and I would guess that all of us have dreamed about having a time machine that would whisk us back to a towpath of the canal where we could see and hear the canal and the people in action. We seek sanitized versions of this when we visit parks that feature mule pulled canal boats. But I doubt many of us would like to live in those times and be a real canal driver walking 12 hours a day, find shelter in a 12 by 12 cabin, or have to unload thousands of pounds of cargo by hand. The canals, mills, factories, railroads, and so forth, were all miserable places to eke out a life. Years ago, PBS had a documentary series about a group of re-enactors living in Montana, and one man was losing weight so fast that his wife had the doctors come in to check him over. They said basically, “ma’am, this is what people looked like when they had simple diets and worked 16 hours a day!” Life was tough and few of us could hack it. And to help people cope with their existence, they sought meaning and understanding by way of religion and other social movements. And Ferrara neatly wraps that up with his conclusion.

So, for my conclusion, if you happen to volunteer at a canal park, or oversee docents, and want to help inform visitors about life in the 1800s, The Raging Erie can fill that void. But, if you are thinking about buying the book because you see the words “Erie Canal” in the title and you want to fill out your canal library, you will likely be disappointed.

Book Review – Chain Of Title by Christopher Scott

Chain of Title: An Adventure To Uncover the 350-Year Legacy Of The Old Grist Mill, by Christopher Scott, 2024. 335 pages.

While a review of this book might seem to be a bit of a stretch for a canal newsletter, Chain Of Title is worthy of your time if you have ever looked at a house or building and wondered, “What is the history of that place?”

Christopher Scott purchased a decaying four-story grist mill that was built along the Pequea Creek in Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. After renovations that converted the mill into his home, he began the journey to uncover the history of the property and building. This began like many investigations do with folklore and “established” history. He notes that during construction, strangers would often walk into his home and share their knowledge and websites shared conflicting histories about the mill. Plus, the reconstruction itself gave some clues about the building, and a date stone over the main door gave its own history. How could a date stone be wrong?

Scott notes, “Luckily, I am an open-minded person who is willing to adjust my view in light of new facts. I was expecting to dispel some of the fodder provided by the online grist mill enthusiasts: after all, with contradicting stories there could only be one right answer, and the others would thus be disproven. I was, however, surprised by the extent to which everything I thought I knew would need to be reevaluated, and I needed to allow myself to let go of ideas that I had taken to be solid truth – even irrefutable facts.”

Dr. Karen Gray, the noted historian of the C&O, coined the term “zombie history.” She described these as historical “facts” that would not die, no matter how many times they were disproven and killed off. Typically, someone years, decades or centuries ago wrote what they thought or heard, and from there, that information is shared over and over as fact. People cite these sources since they are old and thus must be true, without doing their own investigation.

In Chain Of Title, Scott throws out all those facts, folklore, and opinions, and begins at the beginning with the Native Americans use of the land and who was living along the Pequea when the first European settlers showed up. He then moves onto how William Penn was given the land that would become Pennsylvania, and then works forward through history to the present. In each chapter he narrows down his focus as the land changes hands, parts are given or sold off, and in the end, he ends up looking at his current lot and building. Along the way he is able to confirm or disprove all those bits of zombie history.

It is difficult to make such a journey into a great page turner, but Scott is skilled enough to keep the reader interested. I always say that those who do family genealogy have an audience of one, themselves, as no one wants to hear about your ancestors family history. And, this is basically a genealogical look at an old mill that is now a home. However, the book can serve as a good text on how to conduct such an in-depth research for anyone who is wishing to go on such a mission for themselves.

You can find the book on Amazon.

PS. Combine this book with Mills on the Tsatsawassa by Philip Lord Jr., (1983) and you will be well set to begin your research.

Book Review – The Reservoir War

The Reservoir War; A History of Ohio’s Forgotten Riot in America’s Gilded Age, 1874-1888

By Jerett W. Godeke, 2023, 426 pages.

During the canal era in North America, hundreds of large and small reservoirs were constructed in order to supply the thousands of miles of the nation’s canals with a steady supply of water. As the canals were abandoned after the glow of the canal era dulled a bit, many were repurposed as water supplies for nearby communities, for recreation, and/or for flood control. In some cases, the land that the reservoir sat on was deemed more valuable then the water and they were drained and the land sold off. The process of abandonment could be contentious as the pro-canal forces battled to save the canal infrastructure while the anti-canal forces fought to hasten the process. The Reservoir War details one such battle along the Wabash and Erie Canal in western Ohio.

Let me congratulate Mr. Godeke on the well-researched book that details this “war” over a small, and sometimes lacking water, reservoir. In his introduction, he outlines how he was able to do much research on this topic from his home. In this new world of digital newspapers, Google Books, Hatfi-Trust, and so on, new avenues of research are opening up that allow the present-day historian access to resources that would have been locked away just a decade ago. A simple Boolean query can help to discoverer facts tucked away in far away and often, hidden collections. This book is a testament to what can be done from one’s den.

Although the Wabash and Erie was largely an Indiana canal, a short section was located in western Ohio between the settlement of Junction and the Ohio/Indiana border. Once the W&E was abandoned by the state of Indiana in 1874, the residents and businesses along the short section of canal that remained in Ohio had to decide what to do with their dead-end spur. That section of canal, along with the reservoir, make up the battlefield for the war. As the author notes in his introduction, to call this a war is a stretch at best, but as heavy explosives were used and the military called in the restore order, the term does fit.

At the core of the story is a small canal reservoir that was built just east of Antwerp, Ohio, along the Wabash and Erie Canal. If I understand the layout, the reservoir was built to collect excess water flowing down the canal from Indiana, holding it for dryer periods, basically like a water conservation side pond on a lock. When Indiana abandoned the canal, the water flow was cut off, leaving the reservoir resupply to local streams and runoff. In the wet times of the year, the reservoir might fill and in the dry periods, it would be more a swamp or wetland. The canal itself was a dead-end spur, used only by local folks to transport logs to mills further downstream. The stagnant water and “swamp gas” in the reservoir and canal were often blamed for illness, and the local population was convinced that the reservoir was worth more as farm land then for any water supply. In the end, local “dynamiters” took matters into their own hands and sought to breach the reservoir banks, and dry the land.

Godeke takes you through the entire life of the reservoir and the legal and physical struggles that would decide it’s future. You will not be left wanting for information as this is a deep dive on a rather bland subject. Let’s be honest here, it is a small reservoir that even when breached did not result in any heavy flooding of the surrounding landscape. What is surprising is the sheer amount of information that was written about the subject as the local pro and con newspapers fought their own war of words. And, not surprising, there are parallels to modern day events that the author leaves to the reader to contemplate and connect. But, there were a couple of times where I found myself going “wow!”

My main criticism of the book is the complete lack of any maps, diagrams, profiles, or any illustrations at all. In my experience, canal folks are map lovers and we all enjoy a historic canal map to help us “see” what is going on as we read along. It is not that the author didn’t consult these sources as he often mentions them and even gives the locations in regards to the present day. However, I would have greatly enjoyed the addition of maps to help me understand where the reservoir was built, why it was put there in relation to the canals, where the locks were located, and so on. Even a simple profile of the two canals, and how the reservoir was, or wasn’t, a benefit, would have helped. In short, any visual aid would have been much appreciated. If space was an issue, the citations could have been tightened up a bit to allow room.

From the 1914 topo map. The reservoir was located on lot 36 (just below North Creek), east of Antwerp. The canal is shown as the dashed blue line (note the elevation benchmarks 728, 730, 732 that were on the line of the canal).

I also found the authors constant use of money conversions from 1880s to the present day valuations a tad annoying. Each time a dollar amount was given, he added the present day value, which after the first two, three or ten times, was a bit too much information. But those are minor annoyances when compared to the book as a total. And, with over 79 pages of citations and seven appendixes that total 50 pages, the reader will not be left wanting for facts.

Book Review – Hennepin Canal Parkway: History Through the Miles

Hennepin Canal Parkway: History Through the Miles, by Barton Jennings, 2020, 404 pages.

One day I was searching though the American Canal Society archives looking for book or two about the history of the Illinois and Mississippi Canal, otherwise known as the Hennepin, and, to my surprise, I found very little. So I went looking for a book that would fill that need.

The 75-mile-long Hennepin was an extension of the older Illinois and Michigan, offering a route between the western end of the I&M and the Mississippi River at Rock Island. Although the canal had been proposed for decades, construction didn’t begin until 1892 and it wasn’t completed until 1907. By the time the route was ready, the larger Illinois Waterway and Chicago Sanitary Canals had been built, making the smaller Hennepin redundant. However, it remained in operation until 1951. With this late closing date, the canal remains very intact and it is now part of the Hennepin Parkway State Park.

The Hennepin was a canal of firsts. It was the first canal in America to be built completely with Portland Cement instead of cut stone locks. It was a test bed for heavy machinery that was just coming into its own such as the steam shovel and cable way. However, the locks were hand operated, and a towing path was built and maintained, but never used to tow a boat. This made the canal a unique mix of the old and new. And we can see how the materials, tools, techniques and machines first used in the construction of the Hennepin would be used on larger projects in the near future. Although Mr. Jennings doesn’t mention it, the Chicago Sanitary, the New York State Barge Canal, and the Soulanges Canal in Quebec, all have tie ins with the work done on this canal. Mr. Jennings does mention the Panama Canal, which greatly benefited from all these projects.

Barton Jennings offers a very readable history and field guide to the canal and the parkway, which includes the main canal and the 29-mile-long feeder. His book offers a mile-by-mile description of what you will see and encounter along the trail, but in a very enjoyable format. The author bios states that Mr. Jennings is a professor of supply chain management and also taught transportation operations. His experience as a teacher certainly shows in his style of writing where he covers the basics for the casual park user, but he also gives those of us who want them the added details that historians love to see.

The book begins with a 50-page history of the canal, beginning in 1834 and working up through the construction in the late 1800s and early 1900s. Then he begins his tour narrative at mile 0.00 at the eastern end. It is nice to see that the history lesson continues through each mile, and this makes for very informative reading. In each mile he explains in some detail what you are seeing, what was once there (if a structure has been replaced or modified), and why it is there. For instance, a bridge is described as a “Warren pony truss span with two 21-foot I-beam approach spans,” instead of simply saying a bridge, which makes the bridge geek in me very happy. To be sure, for those who don’t give a hoot about the history or infrastructure, this additional information will be passed over, while those who want to know are not left with unanswered questions.

I became interested in the Hennepin as I was researching the NYS Barge Canal construction machinery series, as the Hennepin and the Chicago Sanitary were both test beds of innovation for a lot of the machinery that was used on the New York Barge Canal. So I was delighted to see Mr. Jennings include sections such as, “The Battle of Cecil’s Slough,” where the canal had to be cut through the soft ground at mile 19. In order to deal with the muck, Lidgerwood cableways were constructed with two towers, one on each bank and a cable suspended between them. From this cable, a bucket would be used to remove the mucky soil, going where other machines could not. Mr. Jennings gives these machines their due to the point of including a short history of the company and showing a drawing of the rig. The book is full of little historical tidbits like this which makes it fun to read, even from a thousand miles away.

The book contains many photographs, drawings and maps. There is no index of the illustrations, but as almost every page has one, I would say that there are well over 200, if not many more. The format is 8.5 by 5.5 inches, and all the illustrations are in black and white. In addition, each photo, map and drawing includes a full citation, and Mr. Jennings offers additional reading sources for those who really want to dig deep into the history of the Hennepin Canal.

Mr. Jennings is to be congratulated for his engaging and very informative book.

Book Review – Inland. The Abandoned Canals of the Schuylkill Navigation, by Sandy Sorlien.

Inland. The Abandoned Canals of the Schuylkill Navigation, Sandy Sorlien, with a foreward by John R. Stilgoe and essays by Mike Szilagyl and Karen Young. 2022. Hardcover, 192 pages.

The late Tom Grasso liked to call the ruins of the towpath canals our version of the Mayan ruins. You can find the remains of towpath canals throughout the landscape of the northeast and midwest in various conditions, from the lock that looks like it could be put to use today (with a bit of work), to piles of stones that where, maybe, an old lock that might have been. However, unlike the Mayan ruins, we have records, reports, maps, drawings, and even photographs of the canals in use. In many cases we can say how much stone and lumber went into a structure and what it cost. If we feel we need it, we can find out a lot about the old canals.

And yet, there is always a sense of mystery in those canal ruins. Most of the people who looks upon an old lock or aqueduct will not be a canal historian, and yet they will be fascinated by the stonework. Some will see art and beauty in the stones. It doesn’t matter what it was, the fact that it is here is enough. Some will see how nature is reclaiming the stones, with plants growing out from between the stonework and animals using it as their home. Others will see the ruins and wonder how our forefathers cut, shaped, moved and stacked the heavy stones. No matter how you look at them, the ruins of the past will always cause a sense of wonder.

The Schuylkill Navigation was one of many canals built in the 1800s, and it became one of the more successful canals that you have never heard about. Built along the Schuylkill River between Philadelphia and Port Carbon, the 108-mile-long system was a mix of river pools and 27 man-made canals. Construction began in the early 1800s and the canal remained in use through the early 1900s. Like many of the Pennsylvanian canals, it was built to haul coal and lumber to the cities along the Atlantic coast. However, unless you are from the Schuylkill area, or a canal historian, it is unlikely that you have learned about this navigation.

In Inland, Sandy Sorlien presents a history and photographic journey along of the Schuylkill Navigation in a grand style. Unlike the majority of history books that are presented in the typical smaller formats designed to fit on the book shelf, Sandy seemingly throws caution to the wind, using a large format that allows the photos and prints to be viewed with vibrancy, color and clarity. Sure, it costs more, but the book itself becomes a piece of art, as Sandy is a professional photographer and it shows in her images. The larger format encourages you to linger on the photos and prints to take them all in, and it is so nice that you can read the maps without the need to pull out the magnifying glass. The large format allows a map of the 108-mile-long navigation to flow, in color, across the inside front covers to the inside back covers. It might be the best map of the system I have seen.

The journey begins at the northern end in Schuylkill County and runs south to Philadelphia County. Sandy visited every lock and aqueduct site, and hiked all the 27 canals where they exist. Each photograph is presented with a brief caption. If you wish to know more, a separate chapter offers more detail on each photograph, such as notes about the structures and personal observations from her explorations. I especially enjoyed the drawings and maps in color. The people who drew these were often artists in their own right and presenting these in color is a nod to their talents.

Tom Grasso was fond of saying that the canal was the one creation of man most in harmony with nature. While the active canal offers an environment where animals and plants can live and thrive, the abandoned canal is gradually reclaimed to a point where it is difficult to distinguish between the man-made and the natural. The freeze-thaw cycle causes stones to shift and crack. Plants grow in the these cracks further hastening their decay. Trees grow and die. Seasonal floods wash away walls and berms leveling the landscape. The modern day canal historian realizes the need to capture this moment in time, as it, in itself becomes part of their history. Even though the canal is not in use, it is still there, and at some point, photographs taken today will become just as important as those taken 100 years ago.

As a plus, Inland also serves as a guide to the Schuylkill River Trail, the 120-mile-long greenway that follows the route of the old navigation and the railroads that replaced the canal boats. By using this book, you should be able to locate and understand the how and why of the system. It is a wonderful book.

(This was not a sponsored review. I purchased the book.)

Book Review: Triumph and Tragedy: The Welland Ship Canal

By: Craig Williams, President, Board of Directors, Canal Society of New York State

Canada’s southern neighbor can learn much from the just-published Triumph and Tragedy – The Welland Ship Canal. For those New Yorkers passionate about canal history, the book is an outstanding reference with one significant caveat as explained below. The many facets of the Welland’s two hundred year history, the technology and the people who made it possible, are all thoroughly documented. For those who benefit from the built environment created by countless workers, the book offers a model of recognition and appreciation of those sacrifices. It honors a promise made in 1932 to commemorate those who were killed during the three decades of construction of the fourth generation of the Welland Canal. Yet, the inspiration for the book clearly predates that promise, found in the labor and dedication of the workers themselves. It is a lasting, accessible and comprehensive memorial to those 138 lost workers.

(source: The Welland Ship Canal 1913-1932 by Major P.J. Cowan, page 6, Fig. 4)

Triumph and Tragedy follows a Canadian tradition that especially values the rights and contributions of workers. Yes, the United States also has its Labor Day as does Canada. Canada went further with its marking of April 28th as the National Day of Mourning dedicated to remembering those who have lost their lives, or suffered injury or illness on the job or due to a work-related tragedy. Sadly, a cursory recognition often gets overwhelmed by the magnitude of industrial accidents. About the same time that work began on the fourth Welland, the Hillcrest, Alberta coal mining disaster of 1914 took the lives of 189 workers on that single day. The deaths and injuries that stretched over decades likewise get clouded by other events of the day. Triumph and Tragedy succeeds in putting a face and family with each of loss.

The book accomplishes this recognition by providing layered context to the lives lost. A general history of the still-continuing evolution of the Welland Canal sets the stage for a more detailed look at the technology, equipment, structures and services that built the fourth Welland Canal. More than half the book is then dedicated to the stories and portraits of the 138 people killed, arranged chronologically. Few reading the book will actually know any one of those 138 individuals. Yet, each of us actually knows everyone of them. They are the people we see everyday who make society work. Lately, we have started grouping them under the rubric of “essential workers” as they truly are. In the past, their lives at home and at work were often deemed mundane and rarely recorded by those who left the written records. Only at tragic times do we gain entry into their personal lives. In doing so, we learn much about what it took to built these massive infrastructure projects and what the true cost was. By far the majority were recent immigrants, barely having had the chance to become a part of their new greater community. Addressed by this published memorial, they are rightly now part of our collective community and memory. Not only do we see the faces and the names on each page, those same faces look back upon our own perceptions of what it takes to make a society.

Partly overlapping with the construction of the Fourth Welland was the very similar work to build New York State’s Barge Canal system (1903-1918). New York has never formally recognized the lives lost in its building in the honorable way presented by Triumph and Tragedy. And, many lives were lost. We could and should follow our Canadian neighbors to define such a list. As with the Welland, the research will not be easy. Over ten times longer than the Welland, the Barge Canal crosses many communities, each with their own recollections and repositories. The construction of the Barge Canal did not have many of the geographically unified services provided during the Welland’s construction whose records would assist with such an accounting.

We know of some deaths due to the prominence of the individual such as when James Casey, one of the primary contractors for Erie Barge Canal Lock 17, was fatally injured on September 14, 1910 when a skip of stone fell on him. Occasionally, the manuscript records of the State’s Engineer and Surveyor have the attached blue-colored forms required at the time to report a construction death or injury to the State’s Bureau of Labor Statistics. So on January 7, 1912 Remiga Casolanguida, twenty-five years old and likely a recent immigrant, was killed near Rochester when a frozen dump car unexpectedly bounced back on him, crushing him. Whether a master set of such forms is extant in some forgotten State file cabinet is unknown. Summaries of these reports were published annually by the State’s Labor Department. Though they itemize the several dozen canal-related deaths for each year and document the cause, they fail to provide a name or specific place. The litany of these recorded deaths leaves a much darker hue on the engineering marvel of the Barge Canal. Then there are instances where we suspect fatalities happened but confirming evidence remains even more elusive. With remarkably little commentary, the Lockport newspaper carried the announcement in December 1910 that the contractor for the famous Lockport Locks was “importing” 25 African-Americans to do the extremely dangerous tunnel excavation for the new hydraulic raceway. One hopes they came due to skilled experience in such work and not that their lives mattered less.

Grading Earth at Port Weller pier using a Jordan Spreader, 1915, (source: St. Catharines Museum, Madelein Muntz Collection, 2006.73.624)

Has it all been worth this human cost? At my first glance at Triumph and Tragedy, I looked for an accounting in dollars and cents of the success of today’s Welland Canal, how many tons of Saskatchewan wheat transited or how many cargoes of iron ore? The caveat mentioned at the start of this review is that the book does not have such a financial look-back, the Welland’s cost/benefit ratio in cold hard numbers. Indeed, such an accounting has no place in such a memorial as it would imply an impossible scale to weigh the cost of the human lives lost during construction. That cost can never be adequately repaid. It must always be outstanding as a reminder of the sacrifices borne to make society work.

How to get this book:

TRIUMPH & TRAGEDY: The Welland Ship Canal is published by the St. Catharines Museum and Welland Canals Centre. It retails for $39.95, plus tax and Shipping (where applicable). The limited-edition publication is available at the Museum’s Gift Shop located at 1932 Welland Canals Parkway, St. Catharines, ON or by calling 905 984-8880; or via email at museum@stcatharines.ca.