Canals around Coventry

I have been reading the posts about the canals round Coventry. I found it fascinating and all the photographs were so informative. Such a pity that much of Coventry's history has vanished under orders from the planners and their bulldozers as well as Charles II insisting that the walls of the city were pulled down - how petty! I just hope they don't get to Whitefriars Workhouse. This amazing building should be protected at all costs. It is not an invitation for vandalism on the way back from the pub on a Saturday night. What a daft place to have the ring road. Thanks for such an interesting topic. Frances

In the early centuries our ancestors discovered that little black bits they found in the fields and woods burnt better than wood. On the north side of the city, investors ploughed money in to dig it out of the ground and coal mining grew. But the city needed it and there was little transport, so they dug canals and in this way they could bring it in to the heart of the city, and from the coal came gas. The first two boat loads came into the city basin in August 1769 and pulled by two mules, now heavy goods of all kinds could reach the city. By 1820 gaslight reached the city, they built a gasworks at the side of the canal, built coal vaults in the basin. And horse and boats and coal led Coventry's industry. 1848, the railways appeared, the Nuneaton to Coventry line was constructed and train sidings built in Foleshill and spare land. In 1909 they moved the gas works to Foleshill - everything now on a larger scale and more products. In 1948 it all became nationalised, and by 1972 it all ceased. But the coal mines it had all been built for closed by 1927, the canal, Sutton Stop to Coventry basin, became wound down and derelict. That is how I saw it.

Canal business had deteriorated through the first half of the 20th century but the coming of the war gave it a little boost. Joe Stanton had picked up a couple of boatloads of sand for Rugby Cement Works and proceeded to Sutton Stop when he heard a couple of boats approaching from the other direction. So Joe thought he had time to moor, pick up a couple of things from Grange Road shops - he was gone a little longer than expected with queuing, in the meantime, the oncoming boats had passed through and Roger Liggins had stolen his place and was now passing through the lock. There was some heated argument. An hour later Joe found the last berth before Tusses Bridge had also been taken by Roger, and Joe had to moor the other side of the bridge - this meant a long walk, back to the start of the bridge, up and over the bridge, down the other side, then back to the towpath. Joe started to walk back in the evening when the sirens began. Almost before they died down planes were overhead, guns were blazing in front and rear, men shouting. The old stables of the pub we're now being used as ARP fire fighting post. Then there were a few thuds, the ground shook - a house had taken a direct hit. Deafening shells were screaming into the sky, searchlights probed, all hell was let loose. The landlord of the pub ran out. "The cut's been hit", telephoned from the Greyhound pub. The lock and towpath had been breeched, Roger, my father and Joe left the hit house and raced back to their boats, and my father to Sutton Stop - he screamed to me to go and get help to bring to the boats. I didn't really understand, but spread the word and returned myself. Now I did, the water was draining out fast, the boats tried to drag with the flow, towropes snapping, boats leaning dangerously to the middle, kids crying, women screaming as pans and buckets slid, and all the while the guns were blazing away. But Joe's boat and wife was safe in water, the planks under the bridge holding fast, but ex-boatmen had gathered and were helping the people off their boats and into the pub. I grabbed my bike, missing ropes and debris I cycled to Sutton Stop - as I got nearer the faster the water raced towards the breech and the debris flowed faster. A huge hole in the towpath and the water was pouring out like a giant waterfall. My father phoned Inland Waterways at Rugby. The water now calming down, he was organising a sandbag temporary filling - the lock was damaged too. He left instructions, and cycled back to the rescue, but everyone was safe. Back at the ARP post they offered tea and sandwiches, and found out that the house that had been hit was his wife's cousin who was also Roger's cousin. Boats were leaning at all angles as if to roll into the middle of the empty cut, held only by their tow and extra ropes. The all-clear sounded, dad sent me home. My head hit the pillow and I was out for eight hours.

The original course of the Coventry Canal was not meant to be at Bishop Street, it was meant to be in Stoke or Gosford Green - no one really knows. The Coventry Canal Co were running out of money and investors. The problems were mounting up, and Brindley did not answer their calls. But the greatest problem of all was the Swanswell Pool on the borders of the old town and the new town, as it was called for a long time, of Hillfields. At that time it was a wild, natural and romantic place, the pool full of fish of many kinds, wild fowl nesting, wild flowers everywhere, a paradise to one's eyes. The path running across the field that bounded the the pool on one side led into Harnall Lane, which in olden times was the highway to Leicester - about a mile long, ended where Stoke begins with Swan Lane. It was a rugged but beautiful place at one time, and the furze and ferns were so abundant. Skylarks filled the air with their song, cruciform pale yellow, wild thyme with its scent of delicate fragrance. Across the the low ground immediately surrounding the pool was covered extensively with osier and reed beds, and several kind of water fowl and springs, and brooks running into it. It was so much an expensive job, the Coventry Water Co sacked Brindley, found it cheaper to re-run the canal back over the Stoney Stanton Road and the Foleshill Road and down to Bishop Street.

I have been a long time responding to these answers as I lost track of how to log on etc. In fact it is 3 years ago. But I was very grateful for the responses and yes I did walk across the fields and joined the cut somewhere near where Courtaulds factory used to be. I looked up Google Maps and it was a long way for a small 4 year old. Not sure about the comment of kissing my father goodbye as my mother was widowed but my 18 year old brother was there. My father died in 1947. The surname was Line.

lizziebeth, Welcome back. The Old Crown was the end of the line for Coventry people, it was the border line between city and the countryside. But do tell us what years you were there, and a little of your early life so I can judge the happenings.

Nice photos - do you have a date?

Sorry, I keep forgetting. The pictures are 1958 and I did watch the one on Deedmore Road being removed in 1967/68.

Living in Potters Green from the age of 10 I remember the bridges in the article. The bridge on Deedmore Road was removed in 1970. I remember a snowy day heading to Henley College and could not get up the gradient of the hump back bridge. After numerous tries I decided to try the temporary road they had built at the side for when the removal took place. I was halfway over and got nervous due to the snow that had covered the temporary way round, got halfway over thinking I could slip over the side of the makeshift road and got out and left the car there till lunch, when went back with friends to retrieve my little Ford Anglia

Thank you KaTo. Was it really that later, it's not easy trying to remember the dates with so much going on in that area, like the M6, our play fields being built on, road closures etc, but for us kids it was still a great time being there.

20-A Manor House, Brilliant once again, keep 'em coming. Kaga.

January 1959:

20A-Manor House There were a few houses from Woodway Lane along side the towpath, they faced Lentons Lane to the bridge. Beyond these ran the original canal, that part was of Lester's driveway-woodyard. The Jolly Colliers once belonged to our family, Lester was a relative, and so was one of the residents of the houses, and the graveyard opposite was full of them.

New Inn bridge, Foleshill. March 1940: