THE BIRTH OF THE BOOM:  THE CREATION OF BARRE’S GRANITE EXPLOSION

(Part 1 in a series on Barre’s Granite Industry in celebration of Rock of Ages’ 125^th anniversary) 

The last quarter of the 19^th century in America was a time full of promise, excitement and optimism. Technology was changing the world. This scant twenty-five years witnessed the birth of the phonograph, the electric light, the telephone, the electrical transformer, a practical internal-combustion engine and the soon-to-be-ubiquitous horseless carriage. 

Most industries benefited from technological advances, and Barre’s granite industry was no exception. During this period animal-powered derricks were replaced by steam-driven derricks and blondins; steam drills burst onto the scene; overhead “traveling” cranes were invented; man-made corundum abrasive was created and pneumatic surfacers filled Barre’s granite sheds. Barre’s pounding, whirring, buzzing, jangling, clanging voice of opportunity was heard ‘round the world, calling forth the adventurous, plucky and courageous. And heed that call they did! Thousands came from around the globe to change their lives and forge their personal fortunes in Barre’s granite quarries and sheds.

One of these young immigrants was George B. Milne, who emigrated from a village near Aberdeen, Scotland, one of the granite centers of the Old World. He arrived in Barre in 1883, worked industriously, and founded in 1885 his own granite manufacturing company, a company that would one day be known to the world as Rock of Ages.

But just twenty years earlier, when Emery L. Smith returned to his native Northfield after serving in the Civil War, Barre’s granite industry was languishing. It was reported that less than a dozen men labored in Barre’s granite quarries. Why was Barre’s granite industry near extinction? While its birth had been labored and slow, its auspicious toddlerhood heralded great things to come. Why were these early dreams dashed and what happened to resurrect them?

Barre’s granite industry dates back to the very early years of Wildersburg (later renamed Barre), the name first given to the tract of land granted to William Williams by the Republic of Vermont in 1780. Among Wildersburg’s early settlers was Abijah Abbot who farmed and opened a small quarry on his property. Granite from this quarry (present-day Wells-Lamson quarry) was used to fabricate grinding wheels for grist mills. The stone was of good quality and soon locally produced wheels were replacing those previously imported from France. It is for this reason that present-day “Quarry Hill” was referred to as “Millstone Hill” by as early as the late 1790s. Another granite pioneer was Robert Parker, who came to Barre after the War of 1812. He and his partner, Thomas Courser, opened a quarry on what is known today as Cobble Hill.

These men and their heirs established Barre’s granite industry, the granite being used primarily for mill wheels and architectural pieces, such as underpinnings, sills and other trim work. Abijah Abbott’s son, Richard F. Abbott, joined his father’s quarrying business in 1834 after his tavern in Jackman’s Mills (East Barre) burned to the ground. Richard Abbott, who had the reputation of being an enterprising man, developed one of the largest of the early quarrying and manufacturing operations. Mr. Abbott’s firm fabricated a large memorial in memory of Rev. James Marsh, the first president of the University of Vermont. The base was just over 6 feet long and 6 feet wide and the shaft was 20 feet long. The monument weighed an estimated 15 tons and required 30 pair of horses and oxen to draw it the fifty miles from Barre to Burlington.

Barre granite weighs nearly 170 pounds per cubic foot, and there was no easy method of transporting it in the early days of quarrying. The difficulty of transporting stone in these early years is cited by Arthur Brayley in the second volume of his work entitled History of the Granite Industry of New England: “Mr. Abbott found it quite difficult to obtain means of transportation, owing to the fact that the devices for handling stones were very inadequate. Very large undertakings were usually left for winter, strong sleds being especially made for the purpose, and when farmers being less occupied and desirous of obliging a man they liked, could more easily be obtained. As many as thirty or more oxen and horse teams would sometimes be required, and on such occasions they were gathered from different parts of Barre and the adjoining towns.”

These same difficulties were highlighted once more when two of Barre’s granite firms were contracted to provide the granite for the construction of the new State House in Montpelier, beginning in 1833. Angier “Deacon” Jackman was one of the men who worked to haul the heavy loads of stone from the quarries to Montpelier. Sections of his diary were reprinted in the Barre Times in November 1903 in celebration of Jackman’s 90^th birthday: “Our day’s work began early in the morning, our horses were fed and harnessed ready to hitch to the sleds before breakfast. We had our breakfast regularly at 5 o’clock, then we started for the quarries, where we loaded our sleds and returned home to dinner and fed our horses. After dinner we started for Montpelier with our load of granite, unloaded it and returned to Barre; when we had our supper and our horses cared for it would be 9 o’clock.” Mr. Jackman goes on to describe how difficult it was to safely haul the stone down the steep hills from the quarries to Barre. It was necessary to chain the runners on the sleds to act as braking mechanisms. Horse teams were then hitched to the rear of the sled to act as a governor to slow the descent of the sled. Long poles were used to “clog” the sleds, providing further assistance with braking.

When completed in 1837, the Capitol was received with great acclaim. However, due to the labor-intensive methods used to cut the stone and the difficulties transporting the granite, the Barre firms lost money on the construction contract. A general pessimism arose such that many believed that the State House would be the last public building to be constructed from Barre granite. More efficient methods of both cutting and transporting the stone would be necessary if the industry was to survive, let alone grow and prosper.

Upcoming civil strife, technological innovations, charging social values and upwardly mobile Victorians with a taste for the exotic would forever change Barre’s granite industry…