I would guess that in the seventeenth century, the completion of this ambitious project would be much like that of the Panama Canal about 250 years later. While the time saved was less, the more or less constant state of war – or at least competition – between European powers meant that for France, the idea of not sending shipping through the Gibraltar Straight was a good one. After all, at this narrow choke point, Spain could charge taxes to other countries, or even attack their vessels. So the concept of a canal linking France’s two coasts (Mediterranean and Atlantic) was something that had been talked about since Charlemagne.
So when the Canal du Midi opened in 1681, it was lauded both from a practical standpoint (yay avoiding Spain) and from an engineering one (wow look at how great we are for doing this). Stretching 150 miles, it linked the Etang de Thau (a tidal lagoon off the Mediterranean just outside Beziers) to the Garonne River in Toulouse, from which shipping could mostly navigate the Garonne as far as Bordeaux. (A subsequent 19th century canal, the Canal de Garonne, connects to the Canal du Midi in Toulouse, and with its opening the river wasn’t used at all anymore. That canal stretches an additional 107 miles parallel to the Garonne.)
Obviously, the challenges with actually building such a canal were many. First, while there is no need to scale any major heights, the Canal du Midi does summit at around 620 feet. What this means is that from this point, near Black Mountain about 20 miles south of Toulouse, the water will flow in both directions. Think of it as the continental divide for the canal. So that point is where a water supply had to be centered. (For the Panama Canal, that is Gatun Lake, where enough rain falls to continually supply this man-made summit waterway.) And to/from this summit, locks would be required to allow for shipping.
The second challenge was the cost. At the end of the project, the final tally seems to be about 18 million livres. As best as I can find to get an idea of the value of that, around the year 1750, an unskilled laborer in France would earn about 250 livres per year. So the cost is the annual earning power of 72,000 unskilled laborers from 70 years in the future of the 1681 opening. (This doesn’t seem so out of whack when you consider the major costs of the project would have been its 12,000 workers – at its peak – and 14 years of work, so about double the 72,000 worker year earnings of 70 years later, so whatever inflation would have meant for those wages at the canal’s construction from 1667-1681. And there ends the math portion of our lesson.) Of these costs, 40% were paid for by King Louis XIV, 40% by the province, and 20% by the project’s architect Pierre-Paul Riquet and his family. (The family would actually own the canal afterward. And with financing, they would continue to pay for it for about 50 years after its opening.)
Finally, there is the construction itself. The Canal du Midi stretched 150 miles, contending with more than just land to be dug out. There were marshes. There were rivers. It was a huge and massive project, and as mentioned, needed a vast workforce, which in turn needed to be paid, outfitted, and supported.
By the time construction began in 1667, Pierre-Paul Riquet had most of these things solved. Included in building the canal was the simultaneous construction of a series of dams and reservoirs in the Black Mountain area where enough rainfall would allow water to be fed into the Canal du Midi year round if it was able to be regulated. A series of 86 locks would traverse the route (63 remain). Construction would even allow for the canal to go itself over rivers via bridges. As mentioned, it was an ambitious project.
Sadly, Pierre-Paul Riquet wouldn’t live to see the canal’s opening, which would take place in 1681, one year after his death. But his project was a success – though its economic benefit has been debated – from its opening (at which point it was called the Royal Canal in Languedoc; it became Canal du Midi after the French Revolution) until 1989, although rail completion earlier in the century had lessened canal commerce considerably. And Riquet’s descendants would own it until the Revolution, after which point it would be owned by shareholders and then eventually the French state.
Today, the Canal du Midi serves a few purposes. It acts as a reservoir, with 700 pumps taking water during the dry season – remember the canal was built to flow year round – to irrigate local agriculture. It exits as a historic site, including UNESCO World Heritage status, celebrating the engineering feat and the culture/industry of canal boating. It is intricately involved in recreation, with huge swaths of the area on both sides – especially through cities – being park, and walking or bike paths.
And yes, it is a tourist draw. Multi-day cruises exist along the length. And here in Toulouse, visitors can take advantage of Les Bateaux Toulousains, which offers short (an hour or two) sightseeing cruises that take in a small portion. During the peak season, those happen multiple times per day on multiple routes with multiple boats. During the off-season – like my visit in March (boats don’t run from December to February) – it is a single boat twice a day, once in each direction, between Port Saint-Saveur and Port de l’Embouchure.
This 90 minute ride traverses three of the Canal du Midi’s locks as it passes through central Toulouse. The trip is narrated, although it was only in French on my voyage, and offers an exceedingly pleasant way to spend a morning.
The highlight is the locks themselves. While today they are obviously much more technologically advanced than they would have been in the 17th century, the concept is the same. Sail a boat into the lock and close it behind. Then add or remove water to make the water level go up or down, like a boat elevator. Sail out the other side at the new elevation.
It is especially fun with locals gathering to watch, since so few boats traverse the locks. It’s a cool experience on that side as well.
Even in other towns, the Canal du Midi plays a role. In Carcassonne, while not on the original route, the canal offers locals a park and promenade area, and visitors the chance to traverse it between the station and old city.
No matter how you choose to experience the Canal du Midi, whether as a pedestrian or aboard a boat, you can’t help but appreciate the marvel it is. For seventeenth century France to build this, and for it to still exist to be enjoyed today, is incredible.
Thank you so much to Les Bateaux Toulousains for offering me a discounted ticket. My opinions are, as always, my own.
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