On October 26, 1825, at the “Wedding of the Waters”, America’s first civil engineers became legend. The NYD Historical Marker on the site of the house of James Geddes in the Town of Camille’s, on busy Genesee Street near the Fairmount Shopping Center, cannot possibly tell the whole story of New York’s Canal system. One of the most remarkable facts regarding the building of the New York State Canal system in the early years of the 1800’s was there was no civil engineer in America at the time.

The man offered the job of civil engineer of the proposed Erie Canal was William Weston of England. He declined! That left 4 men, three of whom were judges with limited surveying skill who had learned the craft of surveying in order settle boundary disputes in court to do the job. To this motley threesome was added Nathan Roberts, a teacher and mathematician. Some of these men, however, managed not only to learn their trade with hands on training alone.

Geddes, who was an early entrepreneur in salt in the Syracuse area and a Court of Common Pleas judge by 1818, moved from Pennsylvania to what became known as Geddesesburgh or Geddesville in 1794, Geddes who was appointed the Surveyor General of New York State, was given the job of finding the route for the proposed Erie Canal, the lateral Chenango Canal and others. Geddes was actually instrumental in getting the NYS Legislature to form a canal commission in 1810.

Geddes limited knowledge of engineering and surveying but obviously good political connections landed him the job as one of the engineers (1816) to supervise in the construction of the proposed Erie Canal. In 1825, after a bill was passed authorizing the surveying of lateral canal possibilities. Geddes was sent to the proposed Chenango Valley canal route. His survey proposed a route of 90 miles with 1,500 feet of lockage at a cost of $715,474. The proposal of a Chenango Valley canal was voted down in successive years including after a 1827 survey by Nathan Roberts and a report put together by Forman. The conclusion was there was not enough water. It was not until 1833 that the Act for the Construction of the Chenango Canal became law.

Some interesting information on the Chenango Canal!

“Dear Sir: I am waiting very impatiently for instructions from the committee whether to remain here and try to get the bill through or return home and let it take its course.” This excerpt is from a newly discovered letter written on March 18, 1835 from Albany by Robert Henry of Eaton.

Eaton had introduced an Act in Assembly on March 18, 1835 to make the proposed West Branch Feeder of the Chenango Canal navigable to the Hamlet of Eaton. In a letter to Ellis Morse and others from Carbondale, dated January 23, 1835, we find that Mr. William McAlprin had made an estimate of the cost involved and found that of the two routes proposed, one using “Pettis’s Pond” the other the proposed feeder, that they would be about the same both in distance and in lockage and in cost. ($29,000 for one $21,000 for the other.)

A main factor involved with the success or failure of this plan, however, must be somehow realized, it was politics. Through this feeder would certainly benefit the public interest (which was a main criteria in the Legislative Act), the politics that were still somewhat in power at that time and involved with the Chenango Canal (though supporters of this venture throughout) was the Ant-Masonic Party.

The Anti-Masonic movement in New York State had gathered great political force and power, and it was well known that Ellis Morse and Eaton had remained a hot bed of loyal Masons who had remained active while other lodges and orders had closed from political and public pressure. This canal improvement would have made it easy for Ellis Morse’s (high ranking Mason) large distillery in Eaton to get needed grain and for him to ship his product. I believe that this is why the act was not passed!

Eaton would latter connect to the canal via Peck’s Port and an area now referred to as “Fiddler’s Green.” Peck’s Port in its prime had as many as four barges docked at one time. Peck’s Port was literally the most active port on the canal because of the Town of Eaton’s goods and businesses.

The Chenango Canal opened in May of 1837 with limited success which gained and waned as the years went on. Some of the original problems included porous canal walls which had to be sealed (flooding occurred in the basements of some communities where the canal was put through its many streets because of the loose soil.). Higher loses of water through lock gates that became less than tight when closing because of sediment and loose gravel and, the inability of the Canal Authority to accurately gauge the tonnage of the canal boats, since there was no weight locks on the canal and the shipper’s figures had to be used.

In spite of all this, before 1859 the canal ran quietly with ordinary repairs and maintenance of its bridges and tow banks.

The 1860’s, however proved costly as extensive repairs could not be done to the dilapidated locks. J. P. Goodsell the Resident Engineer of the Middle Division of the State Canals in his 1861 report said: “I have made a personal and thorough examination of all the locks upon this canal and find that those from the summit (Peck’s Port) North which are built of lime and sandstone of that vicinity, have retained their original proportions entire, with the exception of a few of the lower wings.

Hatches Lake

The summer folks who gather around our many lakes and reservoirs have started to arrive and camp cleaning and summer dining are evident in the area near the ponds, lakes and reservoirs. From Leland’s Ponds in the east to Hatch Lake in the west, the Town of Eaton still sparkles in the summer sun!

The history of these bodies of water are an interesting reminder of what was accomplished by men who did not have earth moving equipment…only rudimentary tools and horses. Some of these are a marvel when you think about the years they were engineered and the success of the idea of a canal feeder and its feeders materialized. One such pond, which was just that a pond, was expanded to be one of the most beautiful summer get-a-ways for people…in the old days it was called Camp’s Pond and today we call it Hatch’s Lake. I have been a bit under the weather this week but figured you might enjoy a trip into history!

Today Hatch’s Lake, in the corner of the Town of Eaton, once fed the historic Chenango Canal but dates its original name, Camp’s Pond, back to the late 1790’s

Dr. Abner Camp was an early resident of what he named Camp’s Hill, a man of great humor and interest in the local community. Tales of his adventures hunting and with his efforts to stop the local Native Americans from peering into his cabin at all hours still exist in the area. He once set about to scare the local introducers by threatening to raise a company of men to run them off after they threatened a war party to get even with him. He won when he and two to her men shouted about like a troop of men and put a bullet over the head of a sleeping old Indian, scaring him almost to death. The man ran away back to his village thinking a whole troop of men was after him.

Camp’s Pond gave way to Hatch’s Pond when Peter Hatch took the property over in the early 1800s. By 1833, and the opening of the Chenango Canal, the pond was enlarged as part of the feeder system of canal reservoirs and is today named Hatch Lake.

At one point, the lake’s outlet at the southwestern end was dammed so that the water would no longer flow to the south over the Tioughnioga River and instead flow to another man-made reservoir, Bradley Brook Reservoir.

Today, the level of the lake and its outlet are controlled and summer camps dot the shores, a great fisherman’s paradise. This part of the Chenango Canal’s feeder system still feeds the Erie Canal far to the north, at its end starts a man-made reservoir called Bradley Brook. Bradley Brook Reservoir, constructed also in 1835 and ’36, covers an area of 134 acres.

Here is a great story from Hammond’s History of Madison County I have added here for your enjoyment.

The following incident of the lake neighborhood, still fresh in the memory of many, is related to us:—Many years ago, two young children of Oliver Wescott—Elizabeth and Stephen—were playing upon the shore of the inlet near their father’s house, then they conceived the idea of taking a ride upon the lake in their mother’s washtub, which stood nearby. Launching their improvised boat upon the water, the two got in, and instinctively, or by chance, seated themselves on opposite sides, which just balanced the craft. A breeze blowing, and, aided by the paddle of a little hand on either side, they were soon out upon the waters. The frantic distress of the mother may be imagined, when, missing her children, she looked and saw, far out from the shore, the speak of a washtub and two little upright heads above its rim, the wee excursionists, of course, as unconcerned as if rocking in a cradle on the floor of their mother’s kitchen.

The lake is more than half a mile wide at the point where the tiny voyagers embarked, and they were far towards the opposite shore, whence they were drifting fast, when discovered. Here was an opportunity for a scene and a tragedy; but the discretion of the mother bade her avoid attracting the attention of the children, lest they should make some movement to lose their balance, instead she made her way swiftly through brush and briers, around the west side of the lake, (where the stage road now runs,) and reached a point near the present residence of Mr. Mann, in time to receive her truants all unharmed!

Since they were safe, she—no doubt with all motherly tenderness, as that was her nature—administered a timely lesson of warning against all future temptations and attractions that the water might hold forth. The boy, Stephen, however, was never cured of his love for adventure upon the “deep,” and at the age of fifteen went to sea. Since that time he has sailed in nearly every quarter of the globe; and now, in middle age, he is a denizen of the Southern Hemisphere, spending much of his time in the Sandwich Islands. His letters home tell of his marriage in Honolulu, to a Hawaiian, Lillian, the adopted daughter of King Kamahamaha III, a devoted Christian girl. She died recently. The little girl, Elizabeth, is now the wife of Mr. Henry Patridge, and resides in view of the lake, which sometimes reminds her of the perilous journey of her early childhood.