Walking in the ruins of the industrial age at Stottville

Approaching Stottville, New York from the west on county road 20. The old Stott/Juilliard factories are across Claverack Creek. The lower dam is visible just past the factories.



The upper dam, as seen from Town Garage Road which leads into the ruins of the factories. Columbia County road 20 crosses Stockport Creek above the falls and continues to Greenport and Hudson on state route 9


A view of two walls of Mill #2 still standing. The roof has collapsed, and there are many dangerous spots where the unwary could plunge through rotted floors. Surprisingly, there are no warning or trespassing signs on the factory property.


Mill#3 is the only building still standing of the four built by the Stott family in the late 1880s. Windows, insulation and other features of this building show twentieth century renovations.


The interior of Mill#3 is still strewn with wreckage of its last commercial occupant, a manufacturer of cardboard boxes.


A box for "adult non-alcoholic whiskey flavored lollipops," which apparently had market appeal when the box manufacturer was in operation. Another set of cardboard boxes lists Kandy Kane King of nearby Hudson as the candy maker. The company is no longer in business.

Going into the office. We tried to imagine the meetings that took place here when company officers and employees realized that that they were going out of business. Where did the workers go when Juilliard ceased operations in 1953? What became of the workers in the low-tech firms that briefly used this building in subsequent decades?

The boss's desk. Among the papers on the floor was a "Hand Glue Record" from June, 24, 1966 which listed orders completed for a variety of packaging clients, including Skinners Nuts, Four Star, and Magic Marker. This was the last date we found. It is likely that the end of manufacturing came around this time. The extent to which papers and records were scattered suggests that employment ended suddenly, without much advance notice.


Time card rack gives an idea of how many workers were employed here even in the latter days of manufacturing. There are no longer any major employers in Stottville, although work is available at Walmart and other retail stores in Greenport. Only a mile or two away, a new mall is under construction by the Widewaters Corporations. Like all malls, it will sell plenty of products manufactured outside of the USA by poorly paid foreign workers, further contributing to the economic decline of the United States.



A card table and two chairs seem to be arranged for conversation. This is one of the few signs that anyone has been in the property for the past forty years. We did not observe any empty beer cans, cigarette butts or candy wrappers. Perhaps adolescents in this area are not attracted to abandoned buildings, or maybe there are not that many children or young people left in a town where jobs disappeared long ago. However, an officer from the Stockport Police did show up when we left the grounds and said he saw our car and was afraid that teenagers were going in the old factory. We assured him that our interest was purely historical.


Before leaving, we visited the field of debris behind Mill #3 stood and noticed this fieldstone foundation below the ruins of the brick mills, possibly from the preceding pre-Civil War era factory. A channel for a sluiceway runs from the lower falls to this location, which would have allowed waterpower to drive the machinery. Cotton fabric was produced from raw cotton in such mills, allowing Northerners to profit from slavery.
As we left Stottville's ruined factories, we talked about those ruins in other parts of the world to which tourists flock. Pictured above is Chichen Itza, a Mayan ruin popular with vacationers in Cancun. Why are we willing to spend money to see the remains of distant, ancient societies and at the same time ignore the rich potential for archeological investigation into our own immediate past?

The Rise and Fall of the Factories at Stottville

For centuries after the arrival of Europeans in this corner of New York State, people produced their own food, clothing and shelter without the reliance on foreign imports characteristic of our time. The waterpower which now races unharnessed down our many streams once drove the machinery to produce textiles, lumber and grain. From the earliest times, the Dutch colonists used the power of falling water to grind grain and cut lumber, and produced their own clothing at home.

Inspired by the English factory system, the Americans began to manufacture clothing on a mass scale in the late 1700s, drawing on water power to run the machinery. By 1793, Samuel Slater's water-powered mill in Rhode Island was processing cotton from the slave states. The example soon spread to this region of cascading streams.

There are few places that better illustrate the old sustainable economy of waterpower, and its decline, than Stottville. The village takes its name from Jonathan Stott, a captured British soldier who chose to remain in the US after the War of 1812, and who has left many descendants. Inspired by his father's success as a manufacturer back in England, Jonathan started a weaving business in Hudson, NY. In 1828 he bought the hamlet then known as Springville from the wealthy landowners, the Van Rensselaers, in order to take advantage of the waterfalls in the Claverack Creek. Today all that remains of Stottville's 120 years of textile manufacture are the ruins of a large brick factory and the dramatic cascade over an adjacent dam.

Jonathan Stott’s mills specialized in the production of felt from wool and beginning in 1846, he replaced his earlier mills with what eventually became four large brick mills, all driven by the power of the creek. The Civil War was a prosperous time as the factories, under the direction of Jonathan’s sons, supplied Union army uniforms. The years after the war were also good for Stottville and the fourth five story brick factory was completed in 1876. Three dams furnished power for the textile machinery.

The Stotts were very much committed to state-of-the-art technology and from an early date maintained steam engines to run the machinery when drought or ice jam reduced the water flow. And Stottville was the site of the nation's first hydroelectric power generator . The turbine, a Morgan Smith, and waterwheel were installed in 1871.

The Panic of 1893 was the first blow to the long prosperity of the Stott enterprises and by 1901 both of Jonathan’s sons had died and the firm went bankrupt. However, textile manufacturing was still a lucrative business and Augustus Juilliard, a wealthy manufacturer who later endowed the Julliard School of Music in New York, bought the mills and his firm successfully ran them through World War I, the Depression, and World War II. In 1953 Juilliard went out of business, part of mass closings as the textile industry fled the Northeast in a pursuit of low wage workers that continues to this day.

For the next thirty years the four mills were mostly empty and falling into decay, despite a few efforts to use the buildings as the home for other smaller-scale industries. In 1978 the county demolished Mills 1 and 2, and in 1994 Mill 3 was destroyed by fire. Mill 4, stripped of much of its interior and its roof gone, still stands as a ruin beside the waterfalls.

Unlike depleted oil wells and ruined coal country, the water power of this region is as inexhaustible a resource today as it was four hundred years ago. It will be up to us to remember how to use it.

(For those interested in further reading, I recommend Hudson Valley Ruins: Forgotten Landmarks of an American Landscape by Thomas Rinaldi and Robert Yasinac)