Talk 4: Making a Canal Nelson’s victory at Trafalgar may have given Britain sea superiority, but it hardly affected Napoleon’s military position in continental Europe. Five years on and the Emperor could still marshal an army of half a million men for an invasion of Russia, but there he met with unparalleled defeat. After Borodino the largest and bloodiest battle of the Napoleonic wars, the invasion faltered and then turned into a terrible retreat. As snippets of news about the retreat from Moscow reached London Sir Thomas Bernard and Colonel John Drinkwater attended a small ceremony in Regents Park. We might imagine each man turned over a little soil before handing the spade to someone more adept in its use. Perhaps a few proprietors watched the event, wondering how long it would be before they could attend another ceremony, this time to celebrate the completion of the project in which they had invested. And also speculating as to how they might be affected by the demise of Napoleon. Anyone taking a cursory look at a map on which the line of the Regents Canal had been drawn might think construction would be as simple as digging the Grand Junction branch canal, but closer inspection of a cross sectional drawing showed it would be far more complicated. For a start three tunnels were needed. One was hardly bigger than a wide bridge, but the other two, the first at Maida Hill and the second at Islington, were substantial undertakings. Then there was the fall from Paddington to Limehouse, 86 feet in all, which would demand the construction of 12 locks. This drop would inevitably lead to a great loss of water, raising the question of how to maintain a substantial replenishment supply. The first part of the canal to be constructed was from Paddington Basin to Regent’s Park, which meant plans were now needed for both the Maida Hill tunnel, which was to be over 270 yards long and also the small Eyre’s tunnel, which was only 53. The rest of the summit level, from Regent’s Park to Hampstead Road at Camden, was to be completed in the second phase. Once this was ready the whole, lockless section could be used to generate an income, even if no other part of the canal was operative. Such revenue was likely to be useful as the most expensive part of the works were to be between Camden and Limehouse and would include the construction of a ships basin, all the locks and another tunnel, nearly 1000 yards in length. Conscious of the need to avoid a repeat of the problems experienced at Highgate the directors took care over tunnel design. It was decided to set up an architectural competition to draw in plans and a prize of 50 guineas was offered for the best, although less than two weeks were allowed for the submission of entries. With such a minimal period for preparation it is hardly surprising only three competitors came forward, each requesting more time. Sensibly the directors extended the deadline and, being advised 50 guineas was considered by Scientific men, inadequate to obtain the ideas of men of Eminence, they doubled the prize money. Even then, according to John Nash, there was not a single viable plan amongst the submissions and the directors decided to instruct Morgan, with his limited experience in the Forest of Dean, to undertake the designs himself. One might imagine William Agar, on hearing the news, pursing his lips and shaking his head. Drawing in tenders for the groundwork was less of a problem than getting tunnel designs. The company opened an office at Paddington Basin where contractors could check the plans. They would then have walked the line, carefully inspecting the ground, knowing that if their tender was accepted they would need to provide security, which might be forfeited if they failed to meet their obligations. Estimating work accurately was never an easy task and a bidder knew that a tender much higher than one of a competitor of the same standing was unlikely to be accepted, whilst one too low would pare profit down to a minimum and leave little room to absorb unexpected costs. It was usual for canal companies to award substantial contracts to established contractors even if they did not offer to do the work at a minimum price and two, Hugh McIntosh and Samuel Jones, showed interest in tendering for work between Paddington and Camden. Hugh McIntosh was already widely known in the world of canal construction. Born in Scotland he had begun work as a navvy on the Forth-Clyde canal before moving to England. A diligent and energetic man he took on work as a sub-contractor before becoming a main contractor in his own right. The first contract he took in his own name was on the Lancaster Canal where he worked with the John Rennie. He married at about the same time as John Nash, but the homes to which the two brides soon became accustomed could hardly have been more different. Mrs Nash had fine houses and fine furniture, Mrs McIntosh made do with a hut constructed from stone dug for a canal, a floor made of earth and straw bedding. But Mrs McIntosh was soon to help reap the rewards of her husband’s talent and within a few years had moved into better quality accommodation in Poplar, east London. By 1812 Hugh McIntosh had a well- capitalised business and, as Morgan later noted, was able to maintain a considerable stock of carts, horses and materials. He approached the tender process in a brisk and confident manner with an application letter that was short, almost terse, and lacked the usual formalities. Samuel Jones was a less prominent contractor who, until 1806, had been employed on the construction of the Grand Surrey Docks. Although dismissed, as his work was not regarded as being to a ‘workmanlike’ standard, Sir Thomas Bernard and his associates were confident that Jones’s opinion on the canal, and particularly on the vexed question of tunnelling, would be listened to. Perhaps their trust was partly based on the fact that his brothers had been involved in tunnel construction on the Grand Junction. When he appeared before the House of Lords committee Jones spoke up for the project, saying he thought the idea of driving a tunnel under Islington Hill was feasible, as the clay was strong. Not surprisingly, after the Act had been passed, he was awarded a contract, as was McIntosh. Once a contractor’s bid had been accepted it was up to him to recruit a workforce of unskilled, semi-skilled and skilled men. Women and children would also be drawn into canal work, perhaps in ground clearance or in providing food in the canteen or even in heavier work. Benjamin Latrobe, who worked on the Basingstoke Canal, immigrated to the Unites States in 1796 and found employment as an engineer on the Chesapeake and Delaware Canal. He reported that he had been sent two women dressed in men’s clothes to work in a quarry. By 1810 there was a substantial body of experienced canal excavators in England. Many were agricultural or small-town day labourers who returned to their usual work when a local navigation had been completed, but some found the work to their liking and began to travel from line to line. These were the original ‘navvies’, which is a shortened version of the word navigators. It is possible there would also have been a substantial Irish element amongst the diggers of the Regents Canal. Although the term ‘Irish navvy’ is generally associated with the building of the railways, the proletianisation of the Irish peasantry, through the impact of the growth of the British economy in the eighteenth century, certainly led to substantial emigration and not just to England either. It was noted, in the 1820s, that a large portion of the work on canals in the United States had been done by Irish labourers and Ralph Waldo Emerson said ‘the poor Irishman, the wheelbarrow is his country’’. Canals were usually built through a hierarchy of contracts, so a main contractor might sub-contract digging at an agreed rate, which would be less, of course, than the company was paying him. Experienced navvies, working in gangs, would prefer this type of work because it would give them a reasonable measure of security over the short term. A day labourer was just that, employed by the day with no guarantee of work the following morning and subject to the constant supervision of a foreman who would try to make sure the company got excellent value for that day’s pay. Once on the excavations navvies working in their own gang would share and alternate essential jobs through long, exhausting hours. Initial ground breaking required the use of a pick and spade and the resulting spoil was then shovelled into a barrow, which had to be wheeled away to a wagon or tip. To work in this type of team required stamina, fitness, strength and an even temper. Essential working techniques, such as balancing a triangular wheelbarrow on a plank run, had to be mastered by practice, and an experienced gang with a well-developed esprit de corps would naturally prefer to work together to maximise their income. They would also hope that when one job was finished the main contractor would offer them other work. It is probable that many of the men employed on the Regents Canal by McIntosh had recently been doing similar work when he was fulfilling a contract for the Grand Junction Waterworks Company.