Radio Script #994

Little Talks on Common Things
December 30, 1973

When the Lockwood Mills were started in the 1870’s, one of the Waterville men who solicited subscriptions to the company’s stock was John Webber. The little notebook in which Webber entered the subscriptions recently came to light and is now at the Redington Museum of the Waterville Historical Society.

John Webber was born in Danville, Vermont in 1810, and came to Waterville in 1841 from St. Johnsbury. He had been acquainted with Joseph Fairbanks, who had once operated the foundry in Waterville that later grew into the Waterville Iron Works. In Vermont, Fairbanks continued the experiments he had begun in Waterville, and those experiments resulted in the world’s first platform scales. Webber learned from Fairbanks that there was opportunity to take over the foundry in Waterville. In 1843, in partnership with F. P. Haviland, Webber reopened the old Fairbanks foundry under the firm name of Webber and Haviland. That partnership lasted until Webber’s death in 1882.

John Webber had other interests besides fabrication of iron products. He was an original director of the Portland and Kennebec Railroad, which had come from Portland via Brunswick and had reached Augusta in 1852. Three years later, an extension called the Somerset and Kennebec, in which Webber was also interested, crossed the old Androscoggin and Kennebec at Waterville and went on to Skowhegan. For many years the railroad of which Webber was a director was in bitter competition with its wider gauge rival the Androscoggin and Kennebec, promoted by such Waterville leaders as Timothy Boutelle, Jediah Morrill, and Wyman B.S. Moor. The older road, the Androscoggin and Kennebec, reaching Waterville via Lewiston, was 5 feet six inches wide, while the Somerset and Kennebec from Augusta was 4 feet 8 inches. The difference meant that it was impossible to run the rolling stock of either road on the tracks of the other, and the consequent transfer of passengers and freight caused a lot of expense, confusion, and hard feelings, until in 1870 a merged company, the Maine Central, took over both lines and soon changed the wider track-to the standard 4 feet 8 inches.

Banking was another of John Webber’s activities. For many years he was President of the Peoples Bank in Waterville. His two sons also became prominent local business men, Frank carrying on the iron works in partnership with Frank Philbrick, and John N. conducting a hardware store with George Hanson.

The leading figure in bringing large cotton mills to Waterville was Reuben B. Dunn, who in 1873 bought controlling interest in the Ticonic Water Power and Manufacturing Company that in 1866 had been formed to buy up all the power rights at Ticonic Falls. Dunn had begun the edged tool industry at North Wayne and had moved the business to West Waterville, now Oakland. For several years he had been a director, and at one time President of the Maine Central R.R.

In 1873, Mr. Dunn had retired from his railroad activities, had sold most of his Maine Central stock, and although 70 years old, he was ready for a new business venture. He was able to secure the attention and finally the financial assistance of a New York cotton manufacturer, Amos Lockwood, and in 1874 the Lockwood Company was chartered, with capital stock of $600,000.

That brings us to John Webber’s part in what would soon become Waterville’s largest industry. When Webber started to solicit subscriptions to the Lockwood stock, $200,000 had become available from other sources, so that the amount sought from public subscriptions was $400,000, or 4,000 shares at $100 a share. John Webber’s subscription book is headed by the words, “Subscription book for Stock in Lockwood Mills, 1874,” and the subscriptions are headed by the following statement: “We the undersigned severally promise to take and pay for the number of shares at $100 each set against our respective names in the capital stock of the Lockwood Cotton Mills, a corporation established under the act of Legislature approved February 11, 1874, provided that no account shall be laid until 4,000 shares shall have been subscribed for. Dated, July 1, 1874.”

Webber’s list is headed by the two leaders already mentioned, Reuben Dunn and Amos Lockwood, each of whom took 500 shares for which each paid $50,000. Only two other subscribers took as many as a hundred shares, both George Hanson and John Webber’s own firm of Webber and Haviland being responsible for exactly one hundred shares each. Originally the partnership of Norton and Leavitt subscribed for 50 shares, but they later added another 50 making them the third of the 100 shareholders. The smallest shareholders on John Webber’s list were E. R. Drummond with two shares and C. L. Robinson with three. There were, however, a number with only five shares. including Lemuel Dunbar, George Richardson, J. H. Chaffee and James Coffin. Webber’s list contained three women purchasers of the Lockwood stock: Sarah Hager with ten shares and Earline Coffin with five, while Esther Johnson was a major buyer of thirty shares. Names familiar in Waterville history were among those early Lockwood stockholder. Samuel Appleton took ten shares, H. A. Alden 5, Abel Hoxie 10, A, F. Nason 50, and Henry Fuller 30. The total shares listed in John Webber’s book was 1,603, far from the 4,000 shares that were sought. We have no record of what more Webber may have done, but we do know that the plan finally succeeded. The mid-1870’s was a time of financial depression and it was not easy to raise capital for any ventures. On the other hand, the Civil War had given strong stimulus to the manufacture of cotton cloth in New England, and the Dunns were determined that Waterville should share in that growing industry.

In the spring of 1875 the financial difficulties were at last surmounted and construction of the first Lockwood Mill begun. The first cloth came from its looms in February 1876, nearly 98 years ago. It is memorable that Waterville celebrated the nation’s centennial by starting its first big cotton mill. The company prospered, and in 1882 a second mill was put up, and the two big buildings became known as Lockwood No. 1 and Lockwood No.2. Meanwhile the capital stock was increased to $1,800,000, most of the additional shares being taken by Maine investors. At the turn of the century in 1900, the Lockwood Company was using annually 6 million pounds of cotton and was making 20 million yards of cloth from its 2,100 looms. Its annual payroll to 1,300 workers then exceeded a half a million dollars.

Now in 1973 we are only too keenly aware of what happened to New England cotton mills, not only in Waterville, Lewiston and Biddeford, but in the older and larger cotton cities of Lowell, Lawrence, Fall River, New Bedford, and Manchester. The mills went south, nearer the source of cotton. Synthetic fibers replaced cotton in the market. Finally the Lockwood Mills had to close. That was a serious loss to Waterville, but determination and enterprise has seen the loss gradually replaced, especially by the greatly expanded Hathaway Shirt factory. But while they lasted, the Lockwood Mills made major contribution to the growth of this community.

A few weeks ago I told you about the MCRR timetable of 1876, given to the Redington Museum by Jack Baker of Waterville’s Donald Street. When Mr. Baker handed me the old timetable he told me a very interesting railroad story I want to share with you today.

It is the story of the only recorded illegal holdup of a Maine Central train. Over the years it is probable that many Maine Central trains were flagged down because of track washouts or accidents, but this was a case of a train stopped between stations when there was neither accident, washout nor other train stalled ahead. It seems that a demented man in the central part of Maine in the early 1900’s had been placed in the care of a permanent custodian. One winter night the man escaped from his guardian and showed up about midnight at the railroad station in Clinton, where there was a single attendant on duty.

Inside the station were several crates of eggs awaiting shipment. The fellow opened one of the crates and began pelting eggs through the open ticket office window. The agent managed to close the window and buzzed the telegraph key to have the dispatcher or someone else get word to the sheriff.

Before any help arrived, the fellow took off down the track toward Benton. Soon the St. John Express came through on its Hay to Bangor. The crazed man stood in the middle of the track frantically waving his arms. Fortunately the engineer saw him in time to stop the train. Taking the man for a railroad workman who was warning of some danger ahead, the engineer let the man climb up into the cab. “What’s wrong?” asked the engineer. “Are signals against us?” “Oh, no,” said the fellow, “I just want a ride.” “Well you can’t ride here,” said the engineer, “you’ll have to go back in the cars.” Without protest the fellow got out of the cab, but instead of going back to the cars, he climbed up on the front of the locomotive, where the night winter air would soon have chilled him to freezing. “You can’t stay there,” yelled the engineer. “Get down at once.” “Come up and get me,” replied the man.” And that is just what the engineer did. Soon the two were rolling in a snowbank beside the track. By that time other members of the train crew had appeared, and the man was subdued.

Meanwhile, Maine Central officials were getting worried about the St. John Express. It had left Benton but hadn’t shown up at Clinton. There, between the two stations, it was stalled for half an hour by a crazy man who wanted a ride. And that, said Mr. Baker, is the only instance ever heard of when anyone ever held up a Maine Central train.

Year: 1974