Betty M.

This wheel has the feel of a city-made wheel—sophisticated and finely finished. Not surprising, since it was made just outside of Philadelphia. I spotted it on Facebook Marketplace in Connecticut, where it sat for weeks and weeks, with the price lowered from $50 to $25 as the seller appeared desperate to just get rid of it. Although it did not have a spinning head, I had to rescue it—fine Philadelphia great wheels do not come along very often.

It is a solid heavy wheel, made by Windsor chairmakers, Benjamin Love, and his step-son, Isaac Whitelock.

Love, a Quaker, was born in 1747 in Bucks County, Pennsylvania. He married Eleanor McDowell in 1768 and they had ten children over the next two decades, several of whom died young. By 1780, when he was 33, Love was living in Frankford, five miles north of Philadelphia, where he was admitted to the Frankford Preparative Meeting (Society of Friends or Quakers). Their Frankford meetinghouse was built in 1775-76 and now is the oldest surviving Quaker meetinghouse in Philadelphia.

Records show that Love was a Windsor chair maker from 1781 to 1820.

He also took care of and did repair work on the Frankford Meetinghouse, according to the Meeting’s minutes. His wife, Eleanor, died in 1793, and, two years later, in 1795, Love married Elizabeth (Smith) Meharry Whitelock (1752-1829).

Love’s new wife, Elizabeth, had been recently widowed and left with several children, including a son, Isaac Whitelock (1778-1848). In addition to their sizable combined clan of children, the couple took in the daughter of widower, John Davis, who later married Elizabeth’s daughter, Mary Whitelock. In his autobiography, Davis describes Benjamin Love as a “respectable” Quaker Friend. Davis also noted that Isaac Whitelock, Love’s stepson, was in business with Love. (p. 33)

Isaac was about 17 years old when Love married his mother, so a prime age to be trained into Love’s chair and wheel making business. In 1807, when he was 29, Isaac married Ann Woodcock Marot (1785-1865) a Quaker from Delaware. Her uncle Davenport Marot (also spelled “Mariott” and “Marott”) appears also to have been a chair and spinning wheel maker in Philadelphia (from 1771-1829).

Love & Whitelock’s shop was large enough to have an upper loft or attic, called a “cockloft,” where an apprentice may have slept. (Evans, p. 9) By 1818, a few years before Love’s death, it appears that they also expanded into lumber sales, because Love is described as a “Lumber Merchant” in one document. At the time of Love’s death in 1821, Whitelock was described as a “Spinning Wheel & Chairmaker.” At some point later in his life, Isaac Whitelaw gave up chairmaking altogether and focused on dealing in lumber and hardware, running a lumberyard in Frankford from at least 1837 on. (Evans p. 84, fn. 147)

The wheel itself is sturdy and well-made, with a straightforward design of few embellishments or fancy turnings. Its an attractive wheel and I am surprised that there do not seem to be many that have survived. I know of one in the Mercer Museum in Doylestown, Pennsylvania, and have seen another one for sale in St. Louis, but compared with some other makers, Love & Whitelock wheels seem to be hard to find.

This one is in excellent condition. The wide drive wheel rim is undamaged, without any cracks or chips. The two-piece rim is neatly joined.

The spokes gently widen as they near the rim, decorated with burn marks midway and near the rim end.

They are firmly attached to the rim with screws.

The hub has intact metal bearings on both sides.

The axle is threaded on the wheel side

and held in place on the other side with folded over metal pieces.

The wheel sits on the axle at an angle, giving more room for the spinner’s arm to turn the wheel.

The table is made of heavy-grained wood,

with grooves down each side, and tall rolag holders.

The barrel tension has a screw for tightening on the non-spinner side.

The wheel came without a spinning head.

I found this direct drive head for it because it is similar to the head on the Love & Whitelock that was for sale years ago in St. Louis. The legs are simple and heavy.

All of the posts extend well below the table and are pegged in place.

The table’s underside included a surprise. The names “Betty Megargee” and “Franklin Lewis” were carefully carved in large squared-off letters, along with the date “1934.”

After some on-line research, I found a Betty Naomi Megargee (1911-1995) who married Benjamin Franklin Graves Lewis (1908-1967) in Philadelphia in 1939. I wonder if this wheel may have been an engagement present. If so, it would have been given in the depths of the depression, which might help explain a five-year engagement.

In the 1930 census, when Betty was 18, she was listed as a Stenographer at a bank and Franklin Lewis as an apprentice electrician. From what I can tell, this Betty and Franklin did not have any children and always lived in Pennsylvania. So, if this wheel belonged to them, I have no clues as to how it ended up in Connecticut. I wish I could confirm that Betty Naomi was the owner of this wheel and that we knew more of her and Franklin’s story.

References:

U.S. Gen Web Archives Philadelphia Wills for a copy of Benjamin Love’s will, witnessed by Isaac Whitelock “Spinning Wheel & Chairmaker.”

Ancestry.com for genealogical research on the Love, Whitelock, Marot, Megargee, and Lewis families, and minutes from the Frankford Preparative Meeting 1772-1794.

Maryland Historical Society, Volume 30, Issue 1, Baltimore, 1935, Autobiography of John Davis.

Evans, Nancy Goyne, Windsor-Chairmaking in America, From Craft Shop to Consumer, University Press of New England, London, NH 2006.

The Pamphlet of the Historical Society of Frankford, Pennsylvania, 1912.

Woody Hill and Rose

On August 25, 2022August 25, 2022 By BrendaIn antique spinning wheel, great wheel2 Comments

A few years ago, I wrote about two distinctive flax wheels, Julia and Jerusha. They are part of an instantly recognizable family, with vase-turned legs, painted rims (usually), star/sunburst/flower stamps, secondary upright supports, and distinctive chip carving. Speculation was that these wheels were made in Connecticut or Rhode Island. Some are unmarked, some marked with the initials JC, IC, or SC.

I am besotted with these wheels and always on the lookout for them. So, my eyes lit up when one came up for auction last September in Rhode Island. The auction was a benefit for the Babcock-Smith House Museum in Westerly. (https://www.babcocksmithhouse.org/). I thought perhaps the museum would have some background on the wheel, but put off contacting them because I was busy and did not have high hopes of getting a response.

I finally shot off an email about a week before the auction. What I thought would be a fruitless email turned out to yield a rich harvest. We still do not know who made these wheels, but what a pleasure the hunt has been.

The museum referred me to one of their trustees, Ellen Madison, who, despite knowing little about spinning wheels and having a packed schedule preparing for the auction, unhesitatingly gave her time and attention to my questions. Ellen found not just one, but two, wheels from the museum’s attic coming up for auction.

*Second auction wheel from attic, for which someone had made a new distaff post*

The one in the auction photo had a “JC” stamp and the other “IC.”

When I explained to Ellen that I “rescued” old wheels, she mentioned her family’s great wheel for which she wanted to find a new home. When she sent me photos of her wheel, I was intrigued.

It was four-legged and tensionless–unusual features for New England great wheels. My interest in the wheel skyrocketed, however, when Ellen wrote that her brother had found initials on the wheel–not just any initials, but a “JC” stamp.

Could this great wheel be by the same maker as the flax wheels? At this point, I decided that I needed to go down to the auction myself and bring home Ellen’s great wheel to add to my collection.

Knowing I would be in Rhode Island, I checked out wheels for sale and did a double take when I saw a great wheel in North Stonington, Connecticut—a town bordering Westerly–that looked identical to Ellen’s. It also had a “JC” maker’s mark. Things were getting exciting. On the day of the auction, a friend, Sue, joined me and Ellen kindly showed us the wheels in the Babcock-Smith house.

*Babcock-Smith House great wheel, unmarked*

There were two wheels on display–an unmarked great wheel looking just like the two “JC” wheels, and an unmarked flax wheel with a family resemblance to the ones from the attic, but with simpler maidens and spokes.

We then perused the auction lots and, to top off the house’s wheel treasure trove, I found a reel with a “JC”—a huge surprise since reels are not often marked.

I bid on the two flax wheels for my friend, Tina, who, like me, is fascinated with these wheels. Sadly, I was outbid, but did win the reel. So, I set out for home the next morning with Ellen’s great wheel, now named “Woody Hill,” and the reel, which I named “Rose.” In the meantime, Sue picked up the North Stonington wheel for Tina. Some months later, Ellen contacted me about a gorgeous wheel that she had spotted at a friend’s house, marked “SC.”

Her friend’s father was a third-generation scrap metal and junk dealer in Westerly, who had an eye for antiques. He had picked up the wheel years earlier, likely in Westerly. When Ellen’s friend decided to sell the wheel, it happily found a home with Tina.

This cluster in Westerly and North Stonington–three great wheels, four flax wheels, and one winder—could not be coincidental, could it? Eight within a ten-mile radius. It seemed as if we were homing in on the area where the wheels had been made. Surely we could track down the maker or family of makers. Ha.

*Woody Hill’s beautiful hub* *and bearing*

I, and others, spent the next months pursuing every imaginable avenue. There were plenty of likely candidates, namewise, around Westerly and North Stonington—Clarkes, Chapmans, Congdons, Churches, Culvers, Chesebroughs, and more. Some had ties with the Babcock family, some were weavers, some carpenters, but I could not find any definitive links to spinning wheels. I read and read about early Rhode Island, searching for clues.

I dove into different aspects of Rhode Island history, learning about its furniture, weavers, coastal trade, plantation system and slavery, town histories, and early industrialization of spinning and weaving. With Ellen’s help, I tracked down people who might provide leads. I contacted museums, historical societies, authors, professors. All fascinating, but I have not been able to find our wheel makers.

I thought the wheels themselves might provide clues. The flax wheels do not look like other New England wheels. They are more festive, colorful, and elaborate. In fact, the decorative stamps and secondary upright supports running to the legs are features associated with Pennsylvania wheel makers. Similarly, the great wheels do not resemble other New England wheels. With the exception of a small cluster of wheels from the Narragansett, Rhode Island area, four-legged wheels are rare here.

They are usually found in Canada, and very occasionally in the south. Even more unusual is the lack of a tension system, something uncommon even in the south.

*No mechanism for adjusting the drive band’s tension*

But we know that the great wheels have been in the same families for generations and likely were made in the area.

*The spindle support is wedged in place under the table*

Were the wheel makers involved in Rhode Island’s vibrant coastal trade and influenced by wheels in other areas? And, when were the wheels made?

There has been some thought that the flax wheels may have been produced during the nation’s centennial in the 1870s. The decorative nature of the wheels supports that theory. But most of the flax wheels show heavy use, which likely would not have been the case for centennial celebration wheels, especially in Rhode Island, where industrialized spinning overtook home spinning fairly early in the 1800s.

Also, the great wheels in particular, look much older than the 1870s. My thinking, based on the wear, the wheels’ histories, and the area history, is that the wheels likely date from the late 18^th century to early 19^th century—but it’s just speculation at this point.

We are fortunate to have some history for Ellen’s wheel, Woody Hill. Ellen lives on land that had an 1857 house belonging to Abby Burdick, one of Ellen’s ancestors. In 1819, Gideon Burdick, Abby’s grandfather, was granted a pension for his service in the War of the Revolution, and listed “2 old spinning wheels” as part of his household goods when applying for the pension.

Could those wheels have been passed on to Abby (who lived until 1906) and could one be Woody Hill? In any case, by the early 1900s, Woody Hill was hanging from the rafters of a corncrib on the same land, then belonging to Ellen’s grandfather.

*The corncrib in the background–Woody Hill’s home for decades*

In Ellen’s memory, and the memory of her aunt, born in 1908, the wheel was never taken down from its perch in the rafters. It even survived the legendary 1938 Hurricane, when the corncrib was blown aloft–picked up off its granite posts and landing several feet away. In the 1970s, Ellen rescued the wheel from its corncrib perch when she built her home. Her brother made a bat head for it out of an oar

and her father did an expert job at replacing one of the spokes.

*The replacement spoke–beautifully made*

It graced her antique-filled house for decades and now I am honored that her family has entrusted me with this wonderful wheel. If only I could figure out who made it.

So many questions remain unanswered. We do not even know if the great wheels were made by the same “JC” as the flax wheels.

While it appears that the JC mark is the same, at first look, I would not have guessed that the great wheels were made by the same hand as the flax wheels. In contrast with the flax wheels’ elegant turned legs and spokes, the great wheel legs are simply chamfered.

There are no decorative stamps and the spokes are plain.

The wheel and spindle supports are turned but are huge and heavy, seemingly built for strength rather than beauty.

Their wood is fairly coarse grained,

possibly chestnut, with beautiful oak on the drive wheel rim.

In looking closer at Woody Hill and Rose, however, similarities with the flax wheels start to emerge. Rose, the reel, seems almost like a transition piece.

Her table and legs are much like those on the great wheels—almost rustic in feel.

But the upper part was crafted with great precision,

attention to detail,

and an eye for beauty.

There are dark decorative bands,

similar to those on the flax wheels, and traces of dark paint (much like the paint on Jerusha) applied selectively,

*The lower half of the arm bars were painted with a dark paint*

*while the upper side was left unpainted*

which must have made a lovely contrast with the wood.

The reel has a delicate, finely-made handle for turning the arms.

As with the great wheels, the uprights extend way below the table, with large wedges holding them in place.

All have grooves running down the sides of the tables.

The reel and flax wheels have slightly chamfered underside edges, while Woody Hill’s are pronounced.

All have some form of chip carving on the ends, with variations.

Whoever the maker was, Woody Hill was made to last.

Aside from some wood-boring beetle damage, its massive posts and sturdy legs survived decades in the corn crib quite nicely.

A few spokes were loose,

with extra nails on the rim and hub showing previous tightening repairs.

All it took to get it spinning was stuffing some wool around the clattery spokes and finding a bat head that fit.

In no time, Woody Hill was spinning again, with a smooth, easy cadence. Although the posts are massive, the wheel itself is not that large, with a 43 inch rim diameter and relatively small table, 5 3/4 inches wide and 41 1/2 inches long. Its size, weight, and four-legged stance give it a sturdiness that provides a good anchor for spinning.

This is no tippy, band-throwing, temperamental wheel, but a solid legacy of endurance and hard work from those who made and used it.

I am taking a break on researching these wheels for now. Perhaps the next step is a visit to the Rhode Island Historical Society. I would like to read the Westerly store accounts of Rowse Babcock, which are housed there. In the 1790s, he was a commission agent for textile outwork, exchanging store goods for spinning and weaving. Perhaps he also sold spinning wheels.

Thank you so much to Ellen Madison for her interest, enthusiasm, generosity, photographs, and help on this journey.

Handsome Molly

On September 24, 2021October 23, 2021 By BrendaIn antique spinning wheel, Irish spinning wheel8 Comments

I know little about the history of this stately wheel. A woman in southern Maine kindly gave it to me. She had bought it from a woman–not a spinner–who decided to sell it because it was taking up space on her porch. How and when this wheel made its way to New England likely will remain a mystery.

It almost certainly came from Ireland originally. It has the distinctive characteristics of an Irish wheel of this style–upright stance,

a drive wheel that sits close to the flyer but high off the table,

thick, solid legs,

and amazing reed turnings, row upon row of tiny ridges that look like perfect smocking.

Old postcards and photographs show a variety of similar wheels being used in Ireland.

Interestingly, in these photographs, most of the footmen are string or cord (usually with a leather piece attaching to the axle) rather than wood, a contrast with North American wheels.

When starting to research this wheel, I posted a photograph on Instagram. Fortunately, Johnny Shiels, a third-generation wheel maker in Donegal, saw the photo and thoughtfully reached out. He sent me a photo of a very similar antique wheel from Donegal. And, his IG account spinningwheels.ie revealed photos of other lovely old Donegal wheels that he has restored.

This style wheel, which we usually refer to as a “Saxony” in North America, is known in Ireland as a “Low Irish” or “Dutch wheel.” Actually, early Connecticut probate records from the 18th and early 19th century often referred to them as Dutch wheels, too. These wheels were introduced to Ireland from Holland by Thomas Wentworth, later the Earl of Stafford, in the 17th century to encourage linen production.

While originally intended for flax spinning, they later also would be used for spinning wool.

Ireland also had spindle-style great wheels, often called “long wheels” for wool spinning. The wheel style that we, in this country, most often associate with Irish flax spinning, however, is the upright “castle” wheel. I have been curious as to whether the different styles were regional.

Were castle wheels and Dutch wheels both used throughout Ireland, or were they exclusive to different areas? And, were the turnings on the Dutch wheels specific to certain towns or counties?

The only information I have found so far is in the booklet from the Ulster Museum, which indicates that castle wheels were principally found in Ulster, explaining that they were “confined in distribution to the northern counties. The design provides good rigidity which is essential to efficient spinning.” Id.

The same stability applies to Handsome Molly, but derives from sheer size and weight. It is a remarkably large wheel, with long legs of substantial girth, and a wide heavy table.

It measures 43 1/2 inches tall, with an orifice height of 29 1/2 inches. The table is an ample 7 1/4 inches wide and upright circumference is 8 1/4 inches.

For comparison, it is almost a full foot taller than a typical Connecticut flax wheel made by Silas Barnum.

The legs on the Barnum wheel look puny compared to Molly’s generous proportions.

There is something about the sheer mass of this wheel that does affect spinning–giving a certain lightness and ease. Pure pleasure. There are signs of use on the wheel, but it is difficult to tell how much.

There are grease marks around the axles and some signs of treadle wear.

There appear to be some wear marks, from winding off perhaps, on the tension knob. The groove over the fat part of the knob looks just like the puzzling groove on the wheel Adelaide’s knob in a previous post.

Both maidens are pegged through the mother-of-all and do not turn.

They are in good condition and look much like the maidens on Green Linnet, in a previous post.

The distaff is made from a tree branch, typically used for spinning tow.

The distaff cross-support threads into the upright.

That is a feature I have never seen before, but brilliant to keep the distaff full of flax from tipping over while spinning (which it can do–I speak from experience).

The cross support also has what appear to be wear marks from thread or yarn, again, perhaps from winding off.

There are secondary upright supports on both sides, extending to the table.

Decorative marks ring the uprights and legs, both burned and incised.

The wood grain is interesting, somewhat wide and coarse

–perhaps oak, ash or a mix?

I do not have the original flyer yet. It still exists, but has been stored away and the hunt is on to find it. I am hoping that it will give more clues as to whether this wheel was brought to this country for use or for decoration. It cannot have been easy or cheap to transport across the Atlantic. But, I totally understand why someone would go to the trouble, because it is a magnificent piece of machinery.

I am extremely grateful that this wheel is now taking up space in my home. And, it is not relegated to the porch, but in a place of honor, creating beautiful yarn.

October 2021 update: Joan Cummer had a somewhat similar wheel in her collection, Wheel No. 30. In describing the wheel, she notes: “This wheel was made in the late eighteenth or early nineteenth century in Ireland. The turnings are Sheraton period with extremely fine reed turnings on the distaff … This has been a well made and very heavy wheel.” Cummer, Joan Whittaker, A Book of Spinning Wheels, Peter E. Randall, Portsmouth, NH, 1994 (pp. 72-73).

For more information see:

Johnny Shiels Inishowen Spinning Wheels, website here.

Evans, Nancy Goyne, American Windsor Furniture, Hudson Hills Press, New York, NY, 1997 (p. 214).

Ulster Museum, Spinning Wheels (The John Horner Collection); Ulster Museum, Belfast, Ireland 1976.

Experience (Prance)

On September 29, 2020April 21, 2021 By BrendaIn antique spinning wheel, great wheel, Maine spinning wheelLeave a comment

Most wheel makers remain a mystery. Even when they mark their wheels, leaving names or initials, it can be difficult to determine who they were or to find any details about their lives.

That is not the case with Marlboro (or Marlborough) Packard. He marked his wheels and lived in a town–Union, Maine–with an unusually well-documented history, allowing us to get a small glimpse into his life.

Marlboro was born in 1763 in Bridgewater, Massachusetts. According to DAR records, he served as a private in the Massachusetts militia during the Revolutionary War. At some point after that, he moved to Maine, joining his uncles, Micah and Benjamin, who had been there as early as the 1770s.

His uncle, Benjamin, in fact, has a role in Union’s early history. Initially called Stirlingtown, Union was born in controversy. A group of Scottish men first claimed possession but, soon after, a Massachusetts man, Dr. John Taylor, bought the land, despite the previous claims. After some dispute, Taylor prevailed, and in 1775, Marlboro’s uncle, Benjamin, worked with Taylor’s indentured servants to clear the land and cut lumber for Taylor. History of Union, Maine, pp. 27-39.

That year, Benjamin Packard built the first permanent house, a log cabin, in what would become Union. The next spring, in 1776, the Robbins family moved into the cabin and their story was the basis for the novel “Come Spring.” The foundation of the house built by Benjamin is still intact near the shore of Union’s Seven Tree Pond.

It’s unclear whether Marlboro came to Maine right after serving in the militia, but the 1790 census shows that, by then, he had joined his uncles, living in Cushing on the coast. That same year, he married Mary Ann “Nancy” Blackington. They had seven children, all of whom lived to adulthood–no small feat in those days. According to his children’s birth records, Marlboro appears to have been living in Union in the early 1790s, then moved to nearby Warren and Thomaston, and eventually returned to Union by 1803.

He lived the rest of his life in Union, on a farm on Clarry Hill, at times serving the town in positions such as selectman. He died in 1846, days shy of his 83rd birthday. Marlboro’s descendants still live in and around Union. His oldest son, Nathan, named his first son (born in 1828) “Marlboro.” This namesake grandson became a well-known master shipbuilder in Searsport, Maine, clearly inheriting his grandfather’s design and woodworking skills. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marlboro_Packard.

As noted in the previous post about Marlboro’s flax wheels, “Clarry,” his wheels are well-designed and attractive. And, as with his flax wheels, Marlboro’s great wheels are immediately recognizable as his.

He used a double-nut tensioning system–a somewhat unusual design found primarily in wheels from New England and New York. The wheels are sturdy, with some lovely turnings and scribe marks, and his signature “MP” stamps.

The hub is particularly nice, with brass bearings in both ends.

The axle has square base, holding the wheel away from the upright, and nuts to tighten down each end.

My wheel originally came with a Miner’s head, but I replaced it with an old bat head, new spindle, and new cornhusk spindle bearings.

As with his flax wheels, Marlboro’s great wheels show no influence from the Shakers. For example, the top of the spindle support is hefty–flat, wide, and collar-less–in contrast with Shaker wheels, which generally have slender, curving uprights with a collar.

Interestingly, a few wheels have turned up that look almost identical to Packard’s, but with the initials “MS.” It is not known whether MS may have worked with Marlboro, copied him (or the other way around), or whether the similarity is coincidental.

Thanks to some friends who spotted her, I found my great wheel in the front window of an antique store in Liberty, Maine, two towns away from Union, where it had been sitting for a long time.

According to the store owner, it had belonged to a Liberty woman, Ida Quigg McLain, who lived in a old square farmhouse with a huge central chimney.

Whether that chimney is responsible, I’ll never know, but the spinner side of the wheel is badly blackened and charred,

likely from being too close to an open fire or hot stove.

The charring doesn’t affect the wheel’s spinning, though. She spins beautifully and I love that she’s a local girl—made from trees one ridge over from where I now live, by a man with one of my all-time favorite names—Marlboro Packard.

For more on Marlboro Packard and the history of Union, see the previous post “Clarry,” and these books:

Sibley, John Langdon, History of Union, Maine, originally published in 1851, reprinted by New England History Press, Somersworth, N.H, 1987.

Williams, Ben Ames, Come Spring, Houghton, Mifflin Co., Boston, 1940.

Update December 2020: Last month I picked up a Packard great wheel in Nobleboro, a nearby town, for my friend, Susanne. The seller had found the wheel at the Waldoboro dump. Its drive wheel did not appear to be original, but the rest of the wheel was lovely and had some interesting differences with my wheel. My wheel is on the left in the photo below.

Susanne’s wheel had a slightly daintier feel than mine. The tension screw supports were smaller overall and fit up snugly against the table–in contrast to mine and another wheel of Susanne’s, which have a significant gap between the supports and the table.

Susanne’s on the left, mine on the right.

In addition, the ball at the top of the wheel post is flatter on Susanne’s than on mine.

The legs are much the same.

Intriguingly, Susanne’s wheel had a “VII” inscribed on the table, the front tension screw support and the wheel post–something I have not seen on other Packard wheels.

It is hard to say whether the numbers were for disassembling the wheel for transport, used because apprentices or others were helping with assembly, or for some other reason.

The VII is very faint in the photo–easier to see in person.

It would be interesting to know whether Marlboro Packard changed his wheels slightly over the decades of production or whether he changed things up from wheel to wheel. It was a treat to be able to compare these wheels side by side.

Clarry

On September 11, 2020December 6, 2020 By BrendaIn antique spinning wheel, flax wheel, Maine spinning wheelLeave a comment

Marlboro Packard, born in Massachusetts in 1763 into a family of carpenters, moved north to Union, Maine where he produced attractive, well-engineered spinning wheels, found throughout the midcoast to this day.

Marlboro, also spelled “Marlborough,” was “a natural mathematician. He excelled in the solution of mathematical problems and in the use of mechanical tools. He could make anything from a boot-jack to a wagon wheel, from a window to a spinning wheel and in construction of the latter, he was a past master. All spinning wheels in the locality having the letters ‘MP’ carved on the end of the body are the work of Mr. Packard.” Soldiers and Sailors of Lower St. Georges Maine, p. 51.

Marlboro was born in Bridgewater, Massachusetts, in the same part of town (now Brockton) as the wheel-making Thompson family (see previous posts “Polly and a Skarne” and “Mag Reiver and a Finger”).

Multiple generations of Thompsons (also spelled “Thomson”) were well-known wheel-makers in Bridgewater.

While the Packards were carpenters, I couldn’t find evidence that they made wheels while in Bridgewater or that they worked with the Thompsons.

But it does appear that the two families were related. Marlboro’s aunt, Joanna Packard (his father Nathan’s sister), had a daughter, Jennett Allen, who married wheel-maker John Thompson. John and Jennett were wheel-maker Hannibal Thomson’s parents.

That makes Marlboro and Hannibal first cousins once-removed.

Both Marlboro and Hannibal ended up in Maine making spinning wheels, but they are a generation apart and their wheels reflect that.

Marlboro’s wheels were similar to those made by the earlier Thomson generations, based on a traditional Scottish-style wheel, while Hannibal’s wheels show the strong influence of the Maine Shakers on wheel styles in the early and mid 1800s.

Marlboro’s father, Nathan, died in 1772, when Marlboro was only nine years old. It’s unclear when Marlboro came to Maine, but his uncles Micah and Benjamin apparently moved to Cushing on the midcoast in the 1760s.

They worked as carpenters and appear to have done well. I couldn’t determine how long Marlboro stayed on in Bridgewater or whether he learned wheel-making skills there before coming to Maine.

But eventually, Marlboro joined his uncles and by 1795 must have been well established in his trade, because the Maine Historical Society has copies of payment invoices to Marlboro for turning work, including banisters, for Montpelier, the mansion being built in Cushing by Henry Knox, George Washington’s former Secretary of War.

In the 1790s or early 1800s Marlboro moved to Union, about 15 miles inland up the St. George River from the coast, and settled on Clarry Hill, the top of which is now blueberry barrens with a magnificent view.

The Packard farmhouse still stands and Marlboro’s wheels appear with regularity in antique stores and barn sales throughout the area.

In the Maine State Museum, one of Marlboro’s wheels serves as the example of a typical Maine flax wheel.

Marlboro’s flax wheels are easily recognizable.

Aside from his doubled initial stamps on the table end, the turnings are somewhat unusual in their generous proportions. There is nothing skinny or delicate about these wheels, they are plump and ripe-looking.

My wheel has a replacement treadle.

Marlboro’s treadles have a distinct notch such as this one found by a friend in Searsport. Here is her wheel and the treadle.

On my Packard wheel, the back side of the drive wheel has black marks, which look somewhat like burn marks, but in odd patterns.

It also has gouge marks on the table, which remain something of a mystery.

They are usually attributed to the practice of sticking knives (or forks) in the table to separate or guide the double drive band, perhaps when plying.

My wheel has a quirk shared with another of my Maine wheels, in that if the whorl is tightened fully, it tends to pinch the bobbin so that it doesn’t turn freely, so I need to back it off slightly. Once that is done, she spins fast and sweet.

I was delighted to be contacted this week by a woman seeking information about her beautiful Packard wheel bought in New York state. It is complete with a full distaff and in amazing condition. It is satisfying to see that Marlboro’s wheels have been cherished and maintained so that they can continue to spin for us two hundred years later.

The wonderful quote on Marlboro is from:

Miller, Frank Burton, Soldiers & Sailors of the Plantation of Lower St. Georges Maine, Who Served in the War for American Independence, Genealogical Publishing Co., 1999.

Update December 2020:

I recently ran across this old photograph for sale in eBay. According to the seller, it was taken in 1914 and is from a photo album belonging to the Fountain and Sproul family from Round Pond and Sproul Hill in Bristol, Maine. The back of the photo identifies the woman knitting as Margy Johnson. What caught my eye was the swift behind Margy Johnson and, of course, the spinning wheel, which is a Marlboro Packard wheel. Bristol is about thirty miles from Union, where the wheel was made. It is hard to tell from the photo whether the wheel was still in use. The treadle appears quite worn, the footman is attached and there appears to be a drive band. It felt like I met an old friend when I recognized this wheel.

Mindwell Pond

On March 18, 2020April 1, 2020 By BrendaIn antique spinning wheel, Connecticut spinning wheel4 Comments

Solomon Plant made beautiful wheels. He lived from 1741 to 1822 in Stratford, Connecticut. Florence Feldman-Wood, publisher of the Spinning Wheel Sleuth, has done extensive research on Plant, who fortunately kept good records. She wrote two fascinating articles (in SWS issues 31 and 39) about him, his wheels, and his customers.

Because I have an interest in the early Connecticut wheelmakers, I was thrilled when this wheel appeared on Craigslist in Massachusetts. It had been languishing there for some time, perhaps because both flyer arms were broken off. On a trip to see his brother, my husband arranged to pick up the wheel at the Dunkin Donuts near the Bourne bridge. So, we still refer to it as the Dunkin Donuts wheel.

The edge of the rim was badly chipped. Despite that, it held the drive band I was able to do a little spinning when I got her home–using the two hooks left on one of the flyer arm stubs. She’s fairly small and easy to lift, so once the flyer was fixed, she became my favorite for summer spinning flax outside on the porch.

The wheel has stripe and chip mark decorations on the turned pieces, with chips scalloped on the end of the table and double grooves down the sides.

Plant’s initials on the table end.

One of the most fascinating things about the wheel is that the table has a huge crater underneath, the remains of a knot.

The table is very short–only 15 3/4.” The 16 spokes and plump curves give his wheels a distinctive look.

This wheel was stained or ebonized, apparently early on, giving it a rich glow. The treadle is a replacement, and perhaps the distaff. As far as I know, there are few Solomon Plant flax wheels that have survived, so I feel extremely fortunate to have found this one.

Mercy

On March 18, 2020April 1, 2020 By BrendaIn antique spinning wheel, Connecticut spinning wheelLeave a comment

In researching my J. Platt flax wheel (in the previous post), I combed the internet for other Platt wheels. Only a few turned up–one double-flyer wheel, one other flax wheel, a tilt-table yarn winder/reel, two great wheels, and some phantoms that were auctioned to unknown new owners.

This Platt great wheel turned up on Facebook, with an owner in New York state inquiring if anyone knew anything about the maker. I just about jumped out of my seat with excitement and another Platt owner (in Massachusetts) also joined in to share information on her wheel and winder. Some months later, the owner of this wheel decided to sell and, thanks to the kindness of three volunteers, we quickly had a wheel railroad to eastern Massachusetts, where my husband picked it up to bring to Maine.

The two-posted barrel tension is almost identical to those found on Barnum, Sturdevant, and Sanford wheels. When the previous owner bought the wheel, it had a double-post direct drive spindle set up. Unfortunately, that was lost when sent for a repair. It had been replaced with a Miner’s head, which I replaced with a bat head, since this wheel likely pre-dated accelerated heads.

The spokes do not run down the rim center, but are slightly offset, by varying distances. They have an almost imperceptible flare at the rim end. The drive wheel diameter is 44 1/2″ with simple overlap rim joins.

The table is absolutely plain–no scribe marks, no chip carving, no grooves, no curved edges–with the J. Platt mark on the end.

The wheel post is very coarse-grained, perhaps chestnut.

The legs are simple with four sets of double grooves at the wide parts of the turnings. Again, as with other features, they are similar to other Connecticut wheelmakers of the time.

The leg tops show through the upper side of the table.

The underside of the table is smooth, without any scribe marks.

The wheel is simple, solid, and made to last. She spins beautifully and, because her replacement spindle is huge, she’s one of my go-to wheels for plying.