Perched on a hillside,
the Hope & Anchor makes the most of its extremely
limited space. The front of the building is within
inches of the main road, the back mostly parking lot,
other than a steep multi-level terraced garden spot
with a few tables crammed on it. Inside there seems
a little more space, but they could never entertain
the idea of building an extension (which is a good
thing!)
The Butcombe bitter was
very well cared-for and the food came in generous
portions. Tasty too, so it is definitely a recommended
spot for a little lunch.
Around the walls
are pictures referring to Midford’s past, notably
the railway and the canals. The old railway bridge,
now disused shadows the pub with its solid-looking
Victorian arch, but it is the old canals that offer
the more interesting history. Looking at Midford valley
now, with its green pastures and lush trees, it is
hard to imagine that this was once a hive of industrial
activity, mostly due to deposits of coal found a little
further up the valley. To the south of Midford runs
the Kennet & Avon canal that would join up with
Bristol docks to the west and London docks to the
east, an important trade artery indeed.
To get the coal
down from the valley the Somerset Coal Canal (SCC)
was built. The plans were approved in 1794 an involved
two arms, one south-west to Radstock and the other
west to Paulton, the two meeting at Midford before
continuing on to join the Kennet & Avon at the
famous and formidable Dundas Aqueduct. The SCC has
a significant claim to fame in canal circles: It possessed
the only functional caisson locks in the world. These
were wonderful pieces of engineering. Essentially
the seventy-foot barge would enter an eighty-foot
metal box that would then be lowered down a water-filled
chamber for the doors to open at the bottom. Advantages?
Such a system uses relatively little water and barges
can be dropped considerable heights in a very short
length of canal. Disadvantages? Engineering the whole
deal so that it works.
The soil around the chamber
soaked up water, expanded and pushed the walls down.
The metal box stuck in mid-drop, submerged completely.
There is even some discussion as to whether it ever
worked at all, especially since there is little geological
evidence of its existence, but Jane Austen writes
of riding over to Midford (she lived in Bath) to watch
the miraculous caisson lock in operation, so it probably
did function, though barely commercially.
It was replaced by an inclined
plane in 1801 and that in turn was replaced by a slower
but much more reliable flight of twenty locks in 1805.
SCC enthusiasts still squabble
over the precise location of the caisson lock (remember
the pub fights over the location of the Battle of
Bosworth Field?).
A very pleasant
few hours can be spent trying to retrace the path
of the old canal, because it is now completely overgrown
and lost to the sight of all be the trained eye. However,
if you persevere, you can discover weird delights,
such as many years ago when a friend and I stumbled
across an old, dry, overgrown and cavernous lock deep
in mature woodland. It was quite a sight to see nature
and science co-existing in such a tranquil setting.
