To spot the Wilcox, Crittenden Mill, just cast your eyes to the right and look for a group of old brick-and-concrete buildings perched by Pameacha Creek-they’ve got a tough, industrial look, with chunky brownstone sills, corbelled chimneys, and a mural of a clipper ship on the south wall.
Alright, let’s step out of the present for a second and try to imagine Middletown before hybrid cars, smartphones, and vegan donuts. Right here, long before the age of recycling bins and Instagram, these riverside mills powered the dreams-and the industry-of the city. Pameacha Creek in front of you wasn’t just babbling water; for centuries, it was a local version of the Energizer Bunny. There’s been some kind of mill here since the 1650s-think about that. When Jamestown was barely more than a muddy fort, this spot was already humming with water wheels.
The story of this landmark cranks into high gear in 1814, thanks to John Watkinson. He built the original section, Mill A, for weaving wool. If you listen closely … well, probably not, but you can almost picture the clatter of early looms and the whirr of gears powered by the creek. By the middle of the 1800s, this place was pivoting from wool to widgets.
Enter William Walter Wilcox-a young, driven guy with just enough grit and a keen nose for business. With his partner, Ira Penfield, Wilcox started manufacturing a little metal marvel called the grommet. It was essential for raising and lowering ship sails-think of it as the duct tape of the nautical world. Pretty soon, Wilcox was traveling the U.S., building a reputation... and probably a pretty sore back, considering 1849 travel. Adjusted for inflation, one of those grommets that sold for a few cents back then would run you about a dollar today-so, still a bargain in the world of boat parts.
The firm became Wilcox, Crittenden, and Company, with a string of managers who sounded more like a law firm than an industrial powerhouse-a mayor, a Chaffee, and even a Churchill. It grew rapidly, adding buildings and employing locals, always focused on two things: being honest and really knowing their way around marine hardware.
But the mill had its share of drama. In 1907, a fire ripped through the site, leaving almost nothing but a charred skeleton and a tiny brick structure. Instead of folding, the company rebuilt-without losing a single employee or customer. That’s the industrial spirit for you. If you check out the details, you’ll spot both the original brownstone features and the clunky window modifications from later restorations.
These days, three out of the four mill buildings are now apartments, and the complex stands as one of the few survivors of the city’s manufacturing heyday. And the archaeological secrets below ground? Some of the old machinery and tools from the 1907 fire are still down in that ravine, untouched-a local time capsule for any future adventurer with a taste for rust.
Ready for Middletown Alms House? When you’re set, just head north for about 3 minutes.
