DOWN THROUGH THE WELLAND--THE MISERIES OF HORSE TOWING TIMES--PORT
DALHOUSIE AND A LAKE VETERAN--THE PROBLEM SOLVED--TORONTO AT LAST.
The barges with the "guards" on them had been sent down through the canal
as soon as they had crossed the lake, and were now safely moored at the
Ontario level in the outer harbour at Port Dalhousie, there to await the
arrival of the united boat. The men in charge returning up the canal to
join the main expedition.
Starting from Port Colborne, the two parts of the steamer were separated to
go down the canal. The bow part was kept in the lead, but both as near one
another as possible, so that the crews could take their meals on the after
part, on which they also passed the nights. The stern part was taken down
the long upper level by a small tug, but teams were employed in towing for
all the remaining portions of the canalling. Memories of things as they
then existed on the old Welland are in striking contrast to the conditions
obtaining at the present day.
The miseries of human slaves on the "middle passage" of the Atlantic have
been dilated upon until sympathy with their sufferings has abounded, but it
is doubtful if they were in any way worse than those of the miserable
beings then struggling on the canal passage between Lakes Erie and Ontario.
The canal bank and tow paths were a sticky mush, which in those autumn
months was churned and stamped into a continuous condition of soft red mud
and splashing pools. From two to six double teams were employed to haul
each passing vessel, dependent upon whether it was light or was loaded, but
in either case there was the same dull, heavy, continuous pull against the
slow-moving mass, a hopeless constant tug into the collars, bringing raw
and calloused shoulders.
Poor beasts, there was every description of horse, pony, or mule forced
into the service, but an all-prevailing similarity of lean sides and
projecting bones, of staring unkempt coats, gradually approaching similar
colour as the red mud dried upon their hides. Rest! they had in their
traces when mercifully for a few moments the vessel was in a lock, or when
awaiting her turn at night they lay out on the bank where she happened to
stop. It was the rest of despair.
The poor devils of "drivers," boys or men, who tramped along the canal bank
behind each tottering gang, were little better off than their beasts.
Heavy-footed, wearied with lifting their boots out of the sucking slush,
they trudged along, staggering and half asleep, until aroused by the sounds
of a sagging tow line, with quickened stride and volley of hot-shot
expletives, they closed upon their luckless four-footed companions. What an
electric wince went through the piteous brutes as the stinging whip left
wales upon their sides! A sudden forward motion brought up by the twang of
the tow line as it came taut, sweeping them off their legs, until they
settled down once more into the sidling crablike movement caused by the
angle of the hawser from the bow to the tow path.
The new Welland, with its larger size and tug boats, has done away with
this method of torturing human and horse flesh. One wonders whether it is
the ghosts of these departed equines, that, revisiting the scenes of their
torture, make the moanings along the valley, and the whistlings on the
hills, as they sniff and whinny in the winds along the canal.
We had a good deal of difficulty at first in our canalling, especially in
meeting and passing vessels. The after-part took every inch of the locks,
and was unhandy in shape. However, by dint of rope fenders, long poles and
a plentiful and willing crew we got along without hurting anyone else or
ourselves.
It was in one of these sudden emergencies which sometimes arise that
Captain Manson was thought to have got a strain which developed into
trouble later on. He was a splendidly-built fellow, over six feet in
height, in the plenitude of youth, handsome, laughing, active, and of
uncommon strength, the sort of man who jumps in when there is something to
be done, throws in his whole force and saves the situation.
The bow-part, being short and light, went merrily on, its crew chaffing the
other for their slower speed, for which there was much excuse.
One day on a course in the canal below Thorold we rounded the corner of the
height above the mountain tier of locks. It was a wondrous sight to see
laid out before us the wide landscape of tableland and valley spread out
below, through which we were to navigate and drop down 340 feet on the next
four and one-quarter miles. To the left was the series of locks which
circled, in gray stone structures, like a succession of great steps, down
the mountain side. These were separated one from the other by small ponds
or reservoirs with waste weirs, whose little waterfalls tinkled, foaming
and glinting in the sun. Directly in front, and below us, were the houses
and factories of Merritton, with trains of the Great Western and the
Welland Railways spurting white columns of steam and smoke as the engines
panted up the grade to the heights of the Niagara Escarpment from which we
were about to descend.
Beyond these came glimpses of the canal as it wound its way toward St.
Catharines. Still lower down the Escarpment, spires and towers of the city
itself, and yet lower and still further away lay on the horizon the blue
waters of Lake Ontario. How beautiful and hopeful it was!
As the Greeks when emerging from the strife and struggles of their long and
painful homeward march, hailed the sea with shouts of happy acclaim, for
beyond those waters they knew lay home and rest. So, too, it might have
been for us, or at least for one of us, for another link had been gained in
our long and trying voyage. Far away, from the height, we could see Lake
Ontario, the goal of the expedition, the ardently sought terminus of our
labours, and on the other side of its waters lay Toronto and the future for
the bonnie ship. But times to-day are more prosaic, so, taking a hasty but
satisfying look, we turned to negotiate the next lock.
That night at the bottom of the tier, the stern part moored in one pond and
the bow in the next below, a "jubilation" was held in the after-cabin by
the combined crews. We had safely got down all the steps, and had passed
the large boat safely through, so that we might well rejoice.
Beyond this day there was not much that occurred; the way was simple and we
had got the "hang" of things. At St. Catharines half the city came out to
see the strange looking hulk wending its way down the canal, and through
the locks, close to the town.
At length we came down through the five mile level where the "Canadian
Henley" is now held, with its floating tow path to carry the teams, and
arrived at Muir's Dock, just above the final lock at Port Dalhousie, after
five days occupied in coming through the Canal. The two parts were moored
alongside the gate while waiting for the dock to be made ready for our turn
to enter.
The position of the village now known as Port Dalhousie was originally, in
1812 days, being called "Twelve Mile Creek." The creeks, or river openings
being then named according to their distances in miles from the Niagara
River. This name was afterwards changed to "Port Dalhousie," in honour of
Lord Dalhousie, the Governor-General at the time the first canal was
constructed. The "Port" in those days of the horse canal when we arrived at
it was mainly a turning place for the canal crews. Its one principal street
facing the canal basin, had houses on one side only, mostly drink shops,
with or without license, with a few junk and supply stores intervening. Its
immediate inhabitants, a nomad collection of sailors and towing gangs,
waiting for another job. Around and in its neighborhood there was a happy
district prolific of fruit and flowers, but in itself, with its vagrant
crews culled from the world over, it was a little haven not far from the
realm of Dante's imaginations. Times, methods and circumstances have all
since changed.
[Illustration: OLD WELLAND CANAL
LOCK 1
_Plan of Lock at Port Dalhousie with Upper Gate closed, only 200 ft. long_
_The Lock at Port Dalhousie with Upper Gate open--233 ft. 6 in. long._
_"Chicora" 230 ft. long as placed in Lock and lowered to Lake Ontario
Level._ page 74]
Capt. D. Muir, the proprietor of the Dry Dock, with whom both now and later
many a pleasant hour was spent, was a fine old character, and although then
on the far side of sixty he held himself with square-set shoulders upright
and sprightly. He had sailed the lakes until his face had taken on a
permanent tan; eyes a deep blue with shaggy overhanging brows, a strong
mouth and imperturbable countenance. He was not greatly given to
conversation and had a dry, pawky humour which gave much point to his
slowly spoken words, but when, as sometimes, he was in narrative mood, he
would string off incidents of early sailing days on the lakes the while he
chewed or turned from side to side, some sliver of wood which was
invariably held between his teeth. He had no fancy for metal vessels, or
"tin-pots," as he called them. "Give me," said he, "good sound wooden
vessels, built right," (as he said this you would glean from his emphasis
he meant "as I build them.") "If ye hit against anything in the Canawl, ye
don't dint; if ye go ashore ye don't punch holes in your bottom, and ye ken
pull yer hardest without enny fear uv rippin' it out."
There is this to be said that whatever work was done in his dock, was well
done.
As soon as possible the two parts were put into the dock, the bulkheads
taken out, the parts drawn together on launching ways (very cleverly done
by Muir's men), and the plates and beams rivetted together again by
rivetters brought down from Buffalo. The hull, both inside and out, was
diligently scraped in every part and thoroughly oiled and painted. The main
deck was relaid and _Chicora_ was a ship again.
While all this was going on, Mr. J. G. Demary, the "Overseer" of this
section of the canal, and I, had been carefully looking over the canal lock
and arranging the procedure for putting the boat in for the final lowering
down to Lake Ontario level.
Close examination had proved that the conditions of the Port Dalhousie
lock, under water, were much more favorable than appeared on the surface.
The lock had been built about thirty years previously and there was very
little local knowledge about it.
The lock itself was 200 feet on full inside measurement, with both gates
closed. The upper gates opening to the upper level, instead of being half
the height of the lower gates, were of the same height, and the lock itself
was continued at its full size and depth for 33 feet further beyond these
upper gates until it came to the "breast wall" of the upper level. With the
upper gates open and pressed against the sides, there was thus created an
unobstructed length of 233 feet, into which to place and lower the 230-foot
steamer, as is shown in the accompanying drawing. It was a very welcome and
satisfactory solution which investigation below the water level disclosed.
Like many other problems, it all seems very simple when once the unknown
has been studied out and the results revealed, and so it was in this case.
The project and the plan of the whole enterprise of bringing the _Chicora_
down had been created by close search into conditions, by the adapting of a
sudden opportunity which happened to become available, and thus rendered
practicable that which all others had considered to be, and was,
impossible.
It was a trying risk and worthy of a good reward.
In an undertaking so exceptional as this was it was unavoidable that
unexpected difficulties should from time to time arise, as they often did,
yet only to be overcome by decision and pertinacity. Another, at this
stage, cropped up which for a time looked most unpleasant and caused much
anxiety.
The 230-foot steamer was to be placed in the 233-foot lock, and the water
run off so as to bring her to the Lake Ontario level, or 11 feet 6 inches
below the upper canal level. It was now found, when trying out every inch
of the proposition, that under the water in front of the breast wall there
was a big boom, or beam, extending across the lock from side to side.
Demary did not know how it was held in position, for it had been there
before he came into the service, but he understood it had been intended to
stop vessels laden too deeply from coming up the canal and striking and
damaging the stonework of the breast wall.
Enquiry at the Canal Office at St. Catharines resulted in learning that
there were no records of it, although Mr. E. V. Bodwell, who was then the
Canal Superintendent, gave us every aid. That beam had to be got out of the
way or difficulty might be caused, so permission was obtained from Ottawa
for its removal at our own expense.
First we thought we would saw it through, but soon found that it was
sheeted from end to end with plates of iron, so we had to begin the long
job of cutting the iron under water. Many a pipe was smoked while watching
the progress, when one day it was noticed that heads of the round rods
which held up the beam in the grooves were square, suggesting screws on the
lower end. So huge wrenches were forged, blocks and tackle rigged up, and
after an afternoon's work with a team and striking blows with sledge
hammers, we succeeded in getting the screws moving and, happy moment, the
beam dropped to the bottom of the lock, where, no doubt, it still remains.
So another kink had been untwisted.
Navigation ceased for the year, the canal was closed for the passage of
vessels and the upper gates of the lock were opened and firmly secured. The
_Chicora_ was brought from her mooring, and placed in the lock with her bow
up-stream. The water in the lock was now the same level as that of the
upper level. On the 5th December, 1877, the process of drawing off the
water of the five-mile level was begun, unwatering the canal as far as St.
Catharines. It took ten days or so before the wider areas of the drowned
lands were uncovered.
We watched the waters falling lower and lower until at length the steamer
began lowering into the lock. Being fully secured, she was held in position
clear of all obstacles. All was going well, but slowly, the time taken for
the last few feet seeming to be interminable. At last suspense was over and
on the 20th December we opened the lower gate and _Chicora_ floated out
into the harbour at the Lake Ontario level! The barges were quickly brought
alongside, the guards were jacked up and fastened back into place to be
completed after we reached Toronto, and the material which had been brought
along in the expedition collected and loaded.
Arrangement had been made with Capt. Hall to keep the tug _Robb_ in
commission to be ready to tow us over. Being telegraphed for the tug duly
arrived, and about noon on 24th December, started out from Port Dalhousie
with _Chicora_ in tow.
Navigation had long been closed and we were the only boats out on the lake.
The air was cold but clear, and we had a fine passage, delighting greatly
when the buildings of Toronto came clearly into view--soon we would enter
the haven where we fain would be. As we crossed the lake a smart and
increasing breeze rose behind. As we came abreast of the shoal near the New
Fort (now called Stanley Barracks), and rounded up to make for the entrance
to the harbour, suddenly the _Robb_ _stopped_. Something had evidently gone
wrong with the engine. Carried on by our way we swung broadside to the
shore under our lee. A quarter of an hour, half an hour, three-quarters of
an hour passed as we were steadily drifted by the breeze nearer and nearer
to the beach. We could not do anything for ourselves--still there was no
movement from the tug--would she never start again? A little nearer and we
would go aground among the sand and boulders, to stick there perhaps
through the whole of the winter which was so close at hand. After working
out our enterprise so far, were we to be wrecked just when safety was less
than a mile away? It seemed hard lines to be so helpless at such a stage.
But fortune had not abandoned her adventurers, for just in the nick of time
we saw the tug moving, the engine had started again and in half an hour the
_Chicora_ was inside the harbour, tied up alongside the old Northern
Railway Dock, her journey from Collingwood ended on this the afternoon of
the day before Christmas Day.
Capt Hall, who was on his tug, had suffered as much from anxiety as had we,
for he knew that every other tug on the lake had been laid up, so there
would have been nothing left to pull the _Robb_ off had she, as well as we,
been carried upon the bouldered shore.
The _Robb_ was the largest Canadian wrecking tug then on the lakes. She had
done service in the Fenian Raid of 1866 at the time of the engagement at
Fort Erie between the Welland Battery and the Fenians, some of the bullet
marks still remaining on her wheel-house. After a long and honourable
career she was grounded at Victoria Park, where her hull was used to form a
portion of the landing pier, and where some of her timbers may still
remain.
What a happy relief it was to be back on old familiar ground again, to meet
the cheery greetings and congratulations of the "Old Northerners" of the
yards and machine shops who took the utmost interest in this enterprise of
their President, Hon. Frank Smith, and their General Manager, Mr. F. W.
Cumberland, and formed an affection for the _Chicora_ which is lasting and
vivid to the present day.
Christmas was a happy and well-earned rest. We had completed the first part
of the undertaking, but not for unmeasured wealth would the experience be
repeated. Youth is energetic and looks forward in roseate hope, so the
anxieties and risks were soon forgotten, and all nerves turned toward the
business engagements and profits, which, now that we had her safe in hand,
the boat was to be set to earn.
The balance of that winter, and the spring of 1878 were fully occupied in
rebuilding the upper works of the steamer in their new form adapted to her
service as a day boat and in overhauling and setting up the engine after
their long rest. Not long after our arrival, Captain Manson developed a
severe inflammation, which confined him to his room in the Richmond House.
Here, bright and cheerful to the last, he died on 29th February and was
buried in Collingwood on March 2nd, deeply regretted by all sailorfolk and
particularly by our crew. Five others of that crew, lost with the _Wabuno_
and _Asia_, found watery graves in the waters of the Georgian Bay. The
writer is now the sole survivor, and Mr. R. H. M. McBride, and he the only
remaining members of the original company.
For the interior work a party of experienced French-Canadian ship joiners
were brought up from Sorel, no centre of ship carpentering existing in
Ontario at that time.
The comely main stairway which gives such adornment to the entrance hall
was then erected in all its grace of re-entrant curves, ornate pillars, and
flowing sweep of head-rail and balustrade. When one thinks of the
unnumbered thousands of travellers who have passed up and down its
convenient steps, ones admiration and respect are raised for the
French-Canadian Foreman who designed its form and executed it with such
honest and capable workmanship, that to-day it still displays its lines of
beauty without a creak or strain.
The octagonal wheel-house of the upper lakes which had been brought by rail
from Collingwood was re-erected with its columned sides and graceful
curving cornice under which was again hung the little blockade-running
bell, lettered "Let Her B."