2002
Although Robert Ratcliffe Taylor is listed in the book as the reader of this poem, he was unable to complete the reading. Instead, listen to Andrew Porteus perform Building the Welland Canal c. 1828
Bound on giant wheels, chains have heaved
stubborn stumps from the gripping ground
the bush is gone and the forest has fallen
and through the clearing,
steaming mules snort, horses whinny, oxen groan,
sweating navvies mutter the brogue of Connaught[i]
impatient cries, effortful grunts,
futile curses at recalcitrant beasts
impatient oaths at men and fate
shouts of alarm as clay banks slip
shrieks of pain as boulders crush bone
on the cold April breeze, the stench of animal dung
Under heavy cloud and threatening rain
axes clang, scrapers grind, picks clomp
scoops are shoved; shovels, slung
against hardpan earth stiff as stone
wagon wheels creak, axles moan, gears chutter
wheelbarrows slide and stick in clinging mud
half-bare feet squish in black-brown muck
icy water percolates from under the violated ground
and from “up the mountain” an explosion booms
white smoke drifts wearily across the gray sky
and the acrid smell of gunpowder infests the nose
In the lock pit, clatter of carpenters hewing timbers
scraping drone of two-man saw chewing pine
with whirling sawdust of pungent white oak
ropes and pulleys, arms and legs
hoist and haul, shove and ram
get the tongues in the grooves
shim the beams and planks together
thwack the oakum in the cracks
hammer in the treenails and wedges
while in the broad and waiting prism
winches haul stoneboats up and down
empty, loaded, empty, loaded
for Mr. Merritt’s river yet to come
Backs straighten, faces briefly flicker
black gnarled fingers reach for the saving cup
of numbness which the grog-boy brings in a bucket
flavoured with tansey from Hartzel’s[ii] farm
a dirty woman and a starving child bring bread crusts
a harried contractor scurries, plans in hand
a waving foreman barks, boots in sludge
mosquitoes bear malaria, puddles conceal cholera
after grog, the immigrant worker’s final respite
*
Now above the overgrown swamp the stagnant air is dead
bulrushes stiffly assert their blind brown eyes
red-winged blackbirds flit and chirp inanely
insects drone above the seeping slime
a duck moves mysteriously through the reeds
as a frog plops from a lilypad
Decaying timbers ooze from sagging banks
[i] Connaught: province in the west of Ireland.
[ii] Hartzel: on 31 December 1798, George Hartsell, an original settler in the area, purchased two 100-acre lots, one on the east side and the other on the west side of present-day Hartzel Road in St. Catharines. In 1826 he sold the lots to Oliver Phelps.
Source: Oval Victory: The Best of Canadian Poetry. A Canadian Poetry Association Anthology. Toronto, Ont.: Hidden Book Press, 2002.
Published in Spirit of the Big Ditch: The Story of the Welland Canals in Pictures, Poems and Songs. Compiled, edited and annotated by Robert Ratcliffe Taylor. St. Catharines: The Historical Society of St. Catharines, 2024
Reader Andrew Porteus is a retired librarian whose wife, Louise Waldie, also read poems from Spirit of the Big Ditch. Together they had five children, 10 grandchildren, and 1 great-grandchild and run a pussywillow and Christmas tree farm. Andrew is the curator of the Niagara Falls Poetry Project.
The Historical Society of St. Catharines 