VELVET MILL

MANCHESTER CONNECTICUT

 

There are several Velvet Mills around The Land of Steady Habits, as Connecticut likes to call itself, but the biggest and most impressive is in Manchester, just east of Hartford. Building began in the 1830s, when Connectikittens were really cashing in on the Industrial Revolution (though we started it long before Engaland claims to have done in the 1820s), the Velvet Mill was actually called the Cheney Silk Mill back thin the 19^th century. It reached its peak in 1923, then declined due to changes in fashion, advancement of synthetics, and the likelihood that the silkworms went on strike. Or maybe it was the women that had to unravel all those inch-long cocoons. But I jest. Huge chunks of machinery did it by that time.

The entire operation ended in 1984, and though a few enterprising people used the many structures there for manufacturing on a small scale after that, what was left was eventually turned into apartments. Lofts, they call them now. They are quite trendy.

I had the experience of removing, repairing, and restoring some of the windows from this massive expanse of apartments, and the few pictures I took on one of these trips are presented here. The complex is not as massive as it once was, but it still inspires awe. The apartments are, as far as I saw, fairly nice and very eclectic in design, but many also sport high ceilings that I imagine lend to uneven heating.

But the windows are HUGE, and most have been re-outfitted with dual-pane thermal glass called IGUs (insulated glass units). This makes them heavy and difficult to move, much less maintain. They were an absolute pain in the ass to restore.

But the place is magnificent, and the folks that run it have a genuine love for what they are doing. The tenants are almost defensive about the place.

It is one of a kind.

I like the design, but I mostly like the brickwork.

And though I wouldn’t want to live there (I am a country gentleman), I would like to work on it some more.

While I worked with Steve Marshall, I restored, reglazed, and repainted the windows that were reinstalled in this walkway. Steve did the nearly impossible task of rebuilding them, as their bottom rails had to be replaced in nearly every sash. He is quite the wood mechanic, and these things brought out his considerable skill as a woodsmith. The bridge is not new, and  there is at least one more. I'm glad I didn't have to reinstall them; the crew that did so did it from the outside. Both Steve and I wondered why the window frames weren't reframed and trimmed out so the fixed sashes could be pulled from INSIDE the bridge. It would have been the time to do it.

Other side of the bridge. Another, yet to have its windows restored, is in the distance.

Looking down the street, which still looks like mill workers should be coming out en masse at the end of the day. The Dye House Apartments.

(At this point I'd like you to begin humming The Rolling Stones' "Waiting for a Factory Girl")

One of the reasons that mills like this are converted to apartments is because it's just too damn expensive to tear them down and build something else. Another is because Connectikittens are loathe to replace anything they can reuse, as they are the frugalist of frugal Yankees. Yet another is that Connecticut is a very densely populated state (though you wouldn't know it from looking at MY end of the state, shush and don't tell anyone), and housing is at a premium. But one darker reason is that mills of this size sometimes have vewy vewy nasty things buried nearby, and disturbing those things can bring, pain, sickness, death, and lawsuits. I am sure that the area around Velvet Mill was cleansed before reconstruction was begun (I'm not kidding; we are VERY conscienscious [I have no idea how to spell that word and the computer doesn't believe it exists] about such things here), but it does happen that industrial sites from the past have been known to harbor ground-dwelling nasties.

 

I love the brickwork here. It harks back to the days when folks took pride in the workmanship around their industrial facilities. I wish I took closer pictures of the rather magnificent lamps on either side of the arch.

I'm not sure the origin of the white deposits on the bricks to the right of the arch; it is caused by redeposition of lime from water leaking, dissolving the calcium from the mortar, and redepositing it elsewhere.

More of the same calcium. But the green algae and erosion of the mortar near the downspout is a direct result of the gutter above not draining properly. Either it is clogged (unlikely, there are no nearby trees to fill it with leaves), the seams need sealing or resoldering, or, as I surmise, it has pulled away from the parapet to allow water to course behind it. The dark areas on both sides suggest this.

But I still like the roofline and the brick fancies up near the roof.