By Ron Vasile
During the brief heyday of the I&M Canal packet boat, from 1848 to
1852, thousands of people rode the canal between Chicago and LaSalle.
Often their canal sojourn was just one part of a larger trip.
Easterners
on their
way to California gold fields, farmers looking forward to the opportunities
presented by the vast prairies of the Great Plains, and businessmen heading
to St. Louis and New Orleans all took advantage of the new transportation
corridor known as the I&M Canal.
To Americans of the fast-paced 21st century, packets seem to have moved
at a snail’s pace, but in the 1840s and early 1850s they offered the
best and fastest transportation in undeveloped territory. While conditions
on board were at times far from ideal, the canal packet was a decided improvement
compared to the stagecoach, which jarred and jolted passengers over rutted
roads and through muddy swamps.
A sojourn on a canal packet had a certain inglorious aspect. The eastern
canal terminus, at Bridgeport, was four miles from downtown Chicago, so
the packets and other boats were towed to the mouth of the Chicago River
at Lake Michigan by steam tugs. One tug was described as a nondescript, “asthmatic” little
boat, “a cross between a hippopotamus and a propeller, with a little ‘dash
in’ of the wind mill.” The two engines generated a deafening
noise, but they struggled in vain to keep the boat from rolling “like
a broken winged duck.” The tugs gave the narrow river “a lively
appearance” as they threaded their way through lake schooners and
other canal boats on the 25 minute trip.
Few packet boat passengers chose to willingly spend extra time in Bridgeport.
In 1848 Bridgeport was a thriving commercial village, home to hundreds of
former canal diggers. The working class origins of the neighborhood are
captured by the following quote: “There were saloons, boardinghouses,
grocery stores and stables, and they took care of the wants of brawny men,
teamsters, barge men, tug boat crews and freight handlers.” This noisy
brawling village, full of transients of a rough and tumble disposition,
contained the three story Canal House inn, as well as stables to accommodate
up to 400 mules and horses. Boats left Bridgeport at 8 a.m. and 5 p.m. daily.
From Bridgeport the team of three horses walked down the towpath, laboring
to pull the heavy boat. One early trip reflected some of the difficulties
inherent to travel on the “raging canal,” a voyage that took
anywhere from 17-24 hours. Cabins were quite small, about 50 feet long,
9 feet wide and 7 feet high. Despite having as many as 120 people crowded
into this cramped small cabin, conditions during the day were often quite
pleasant.
Atop the cabin the baggage and steamer trunks were secured and covered
with canvass, and sun worshippers and others chose to sit above, keeping
an eye out for low bridges. Others stayed in the cabin, passing the time
in a variety of ways. Some read the latest newspapers from St. Louis or
Chicago; others composed letters, wrote in diaries or drew. For entertainment
you could play cards or backgammon, and the lively sound of music was often
heard on board, as some boats were equipped with piano. Troubadours strummed
their guitars and led group sings. Laughing! Children scampered about willy-nilly.
The grown ups conducted many a lively discussion on a variety of subjects,
especially politics and religion, leading no doubt to some heated exchanges.
As one canal historian put it, “On a canal boat everybody was continually
in the company of almost everybody else.” Every cough, sneeze and
snore was audible to all. “The innocuous routine of life on board
suited people of calm and adjustable temperament, but vexed those who preferred
more animation, less enforced togetherness. . . On deck at night an imaginative
traveler could en! joy the quiet charm of darkness twinkling with fireflies,
the bow lantern casting a yellow glow ahead, the clop of hooves on the towpath,
the soft swish of the towline dipping in the water, the muted songs, gay
and plaintive, of the lonesome steersman.”
Every square inch of the packet was put to use, it was a miniature craft
but scrupulously clean. People commented on the neatness and comfort of
the packets, leading one observer to conclude that a “can be very
well endured.” As night fell the passengers had to stand around while
shelves were put up for their sleeping accommodation. A double tier of hammocks
three deep were fashioned from the shelves and people drew their bunk assignments
based on their ticket number, although strangers were often given first
choice. One English traveler noted that this courtesy had been extended
to him, but he complained that “the selection was difficult indeed,
where all appeared equally uncomfortable.”
We tend to forget how things smelled “in the good old days,” especially
in confined spaces like canal packet boats. Men smoked cigars and cigarettes;
the privy was a seat with a hole in it and a bucket beneath. People didn’t
wear deodorant and bathed infrequently, making body odor a serious issue.
The stench emanating from the cabin was palpable, and no wonders that many
awoke with a headache or worse.
Adults snored, babies cried, mosquitoes and flies bit, and the boat rocked
back and forth going through locks. Windows had to stay closed, for fear
of bad air that could cause malaria and other diseases. There was no private
place to wash up in the morning, with only a single bucket and a comb attached
to a string for all to use. (Throughout much of the 19th century the ritual
of getting washed up, dressed, and ready to face the world, was referred
to as performing ones toilet.)
Clearly, the sleeping arrangements aboard packets left a great deal to
be desired. Women seemed to dislike packet travel more than men. Sarah Norris
took a trip from LaSalle to Chicago that took 22 and a half hours, after
which she said “I can’t tell you how pleased I was to leave
the canal boat, a little, low, crowded place, moving along at a snail’s
pace in comparison with steamboats.” Thus, we can conclude that travel
on packet boats was something of a Jekyll and Hyde experience: pleasant
during the day, much less so at night.
Due to the length of the canal passage meals were served. In addition to
staples such as beef and ham, the menu might have been supplemented by local
game including prairie chickens, deer, or lake trout. Indeed, boat captains
and others shot buck deer from the decks of slow-moving boats. Tea was served,
and a stocked bar helped the more bibulous pass the time.
Passengers heard the steady clop - clop of the horses plodding along the
towpath, as well as the canal boat horn sounding as the boat approached
each lock, alerting the
locktender that he needed to begin opening the
massive lock gates. The boats made stops at the various towns along the
canal, picking
up and dropping off passengers. Those seeking exercise could walk along
the towpath for a stretch, getting off at a lock and walking for a few
miles.
On the deck many of the men and boys carried rifles or pistols, and they
made quite a racket banging away at snakes that lay on the limestone rocks.
The less discriminating also fired at ducks, dogs, deer and most any other
animal they spotted. Of course guns go off accidentally as well, and in
one incident in 1852 killed a prominent Chicago businessman. There was other
excitement as well. On one trip a federal Marshall tussled with and captured
a counterfeiter. Boats occasionally banged into locks, giving everyone a
jolt. Sometimes boat captains competing to get to the lock first engaged
in fisticuffs to settle the question, putting reluctant locktenders in the
middle.
For the easternmost 30 miles the canal was cut through the dolomitic limestone
that underlies most of northeastern Illinois. The countryside outside Chicago
was not very inviting, with wet prairies and wetlands predominant amidst
a few scattered houses or small farms. The Canal diverges from the Des Plaines
River at Summit, and then passes through level, dry prairie. As you reached
the “Sag” near present day Lemont one could still see the hovels,
shanties and shacks that had been used to house the men who dug the canal.
The Calumet feeder canal near here opened in 1849 and is a navigable waterway,
connecting the canal with the town of Blue Island.
Near Lockport the rolling contours of the Des Plaines River become very
evident. Immense masses of stone are piled high on both sides of the canal,
whose banks are lined with limestone. Lockport has the makings of a thriving
little village, with a widewater through downtown, the canal now 120 feet
wide, twice the normal width. The first “official” lock on the
canal is here, although there were two earlier locks at Bridgeport and what
is now Romeoville. There are five locks between Lockport and Joliet as the
land slopes down some 40 feet, and we now begin to see farms lining the
canal. As one proceeds further southwest piles of coal replace the piles
of limestone.
As you continue to travel southwest you come to Joliet, the seat of Will
County and already in the packet era on its way to becoming a city. As at
Lockport the canal locks here provide water power. Channahon is next, and
here the canal crosses the DuPage River, and for many then and now the scenery
at this point is the most beautiful and charming of anywhere along the entire
line of the canal. The Kankakee feeder is also navigable, bringing Wilmington
into the economic sphere of the canal.
Then it is on to Morris, another county seat (Grundy) and a place of
considerable promise. The coal fields and upland prairie are now more
in evidence, and Morris is known as a great place for hunting prairie
chicken. At Marseilles the Illinois River becomes a series of rapids,
generating abundant waterpower. Ottawa, LaSalle’s county seat,
is a fine sturdy town, and the aqueduct here represents the single
greatest engineering feat on the canal. To the sound of the cracking
of the canal drivers whip off you speed at 6 mph, ding through rich
bottom lands at the base of a bluff, the babble of the Illinois River
and the looming sandstone known as Starved Rock.
The western terminus of the canal is at LaSalle/Peru. Here lies the edge
of a great coal field, and rich deposits are found near downtown LaSalle.
The twin cities have become rivals, seeking to reap the benefits of the
transportation nexus created by the canal and the river. LaSalle is a great
transfer point, with Chicagoans moving from canal packet to river steamboat
packet, and denizens of the South leaving the relative comfort of the steamboats
for the more Spartan accommodations of a canal boat. LaSalle eventually
attracted industry, including the largest zinc plant in the U. S.
To be sure, the canal countryside offered plenty of stunning vistas: the
majesty of the sandstone cliffs of Starved Rock and Buffalo Rock, the fertile
prairies and dense forested areas along the Illinois River, the rapids at
Marseilles, fast growing little farm towns, the rising city of Chicago.
The changes wrought by the canal were many-it brought Chicago into a closer
relationship with the South as well as the East; it brought people and money
to a sleepy backwater at Ft. Dearborn, creating towns and cities such as
Chicago, Ottawa, Morris, Lockport, and LaSalle; it jump started new extractive
industries in coal, limestone, hydraulic cement and sand and gravel, which
in turn resulted in the creation of iron, steel, zinc and other manufacturing
plants; the canal encouraged farmers to cultivate more acreage, so wetlands
were drained and the endless prairies quickly were converted to farms. Last
but not least, for five brief years, from 1848-1852 the canal was simply
the latest innovation in the evolution of transportation systems, one that
was about to give way to a radically different technology, the railroads.

For Further Reading
Conzen , Michael P., and Kay J. Carr, eds., The Illinois & Michigan
Canal National Heritage Corridor: A Guide to Its History and Sources (DeKalb:
Northern Illinois University Press, 1988), 337 pp. [Contains essays and
a very useful bibliography]
Conzen, Michael P., Douglas Knox, and Dennis H. Cremin, 1848-Turning Point
for Chicago, Turning Point for the Region (Chicago: The Newberry Library,
1998), 63 pp. [For Chicago and the Midwest, the year 1848 is significant
for many reasons. Seminal events include the first railroad out of Chicago,
the coming of the telegraph, the founding of the Chicago Board of Trade,
and the opening of the I&M Canal. The canal connected Chicago to both
the east coast and to the southern states]
Fleming, George J., Canal at Chicago: A Study in Political and Social History
(Washington, D.C.: Catholic University Press, 1950), 374 pp. [More comprehensive
than Putnam but only available through University Microfilms]
Howe, Walter A., comp., Documentary History of the Illinois and Michigan
Canal: Legislation, Litigation and Titles (Springfield, Ill.: Department
of Public Works and Buildings, Division of Waterways, 1956), 174 pp.
Lamb, John M. "Early Days on the Illinois and Michigan Canal," Chicago
History, new series, vol. 3, no. 3 (Winter 1974-75), pp. 168-76. [One of
his best articles on the I&M Canal]
Putnam, James W., The Illinois and Michigan Canal: A Study in Economic
History (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1918), 213 pp. [Still the
single best source on the I&M Canal, although the focus in squarely
on economics]
Vasile, Ronald S., “The I&M Canal: A Short Historiography and
Booklist,
quote Bulletin of the Illinois Geographical Society, Fall 2000, vol.
XLII, number 2, pp. 66-76. [Looks at how historians have viewed the I&M
Canal relative to the growth of Chicago]
Vasile, Ronald S., “Cholera, Counterfeiters, and the California Gold
Rush: Passenger Travel on the I&M Canal, 1848-1852,” Journal of
Illinois History, vol. 7, Summer 2004, pp. 125-150. [Emphasis on the social
history of the canal and how the I&M helped transform Chicago]
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