The Human Stories of the Rockville Mill Complex

 

 

The climb to the old Dart Stone Mill wasn't for the faint of heart. My friend J and I huffed our way up that punishing incline, shirts clinging to our backs, calves screaming in protest. But we'd made this trek before, drawn back time and again to this crumbling monument perched high above Vernon, Connecticut. There's something about abandoned mills that gets under your skin, and this one had its hooks in us deep.

When Albert Dart built this place back in 1868, he picked the most dramatic real estate in all of Rockville. The mill sits on a rock ledge at the second millseat below Snipsic Lake, clinging to the cliff face like it grew there naturally. And in a way, it may have. The lake fed water to nearly 39 mills as it descended through the valley, dropping ten inches in elevation along the way. That's a lot of industrial muscle powered by gravity alone.

Dart built his mill for spinning silk and producing shoddy, a recycled wool material that was big business back then. But honestly? The real product was the view. No other mill in Connecticut could touch it. The stone construction, the waterfall backdrop, the sheer audacity of building something this substantial on a rock shelf. It looked like a postcard come to life, the kind of scene that made other mill owners jealous.

The engineering down below was just as impressive as the setting. During operation, water from the tailrace flowed through a massive metal pipe into the turbine room, spinning the machinery that kept the entire operation running smoothly. Now that the pipe is a rust-eaten relic, the water still flows. These days, it pours through an arched opening in the foundation of the five-story wing before tumbling into Mill Pond below.

Standing there with J, watching the Hockanum River cascade down into the pond, I couldn't help but marvel at what our ancestors pulled off. They redirected an entire river to power four separate mills in this complex, carving channels and building foundations into solid rock without bulldozers or hydraulic excavators. Just sweat, dynamite, and determination.

Getting inside required some creative problem-solving. We'd scouted a hidden entrance on previous visits, and after that killer climb, we squeezed through and found ourselves in the belly of the beast.

What a letdown.

The Carlysle (Carlisle) Thread Company & Fitch's Knotting Wool in its glory days. Horse and buggy days down E Main Street.

The interior of Hocknaum Mills was chopped up into a maze of storage units, courtesy of the building's recent tenants’ incarnation as Daniel's Mill Self Storage and Charity Storage. The only saving grace of the mill was the window view of the Dart Stone Mill, the waterfall, and Anacoil just below the Mill Pond. Dark, cramped, and frankly ugly, Dart Stone Mill had lost all its romance once you stepped inside. The floors were badly water-damaged and baby soft around the edges of the walls. On one side of the building, the roof had already caved in on three floors out of the five. It was a sombering truth, undeniable that it was falling apart unbeknownst to the town.

Unfortunately, that was as far as we got that day. The other two mills in the complex, the former Belding Brothers Silk Mill and the Rose Silk Mill, were locked up tight. I mean, seriously secured, no way in, not even for determined explorers like us. If you want to see what those buildings looked like in their glory days, track down a copy of "Vernon and Historic Rockville" by Dr. S. Ardis Abbott and Jean A. Luddy. The historical photos in there are worth the hunt.

Now, I should mention that while I'm covering the four main mills in the Rockville Mill Complex here, I'm saving the Anacoil Mills for another post. That story deserves its own space, given the rich history involved.

Walk the streets of Rockville today, and you are stepping into a story. Tucked into the rolling hills of Vernon, Connecticut, this historic district is more than just a collection of old buildings; it is a 550-acre time capsule, a living monument to a time when the relentless rush of a river could power an American city.

The story of Rockville is the story of the Hockanum River. This is no lazy, meandering stream. From its outlet at Snipsic Lake, the Hockanum tumbles and falls, dropping a significant distance over just a mile and a half. For the ambitious industrialists of the early nineteenth century, that falling water was not just a scenic wonder. It was pure power, a liquid engine waiting to be harnessed.

And harness it they did. What began in the 1820s as a few scattered mill sites along the riverbanks grew into a powerhouse of the textile industry. By 1900, Rockville was a chartered city of nearly 8,000 people, its skyline defined by the brick facades and smokestacks of its mighty mills. The city was built to the rhythm of the river, its very layout dictated by the need to capture and channel that natural energy.

To wander through Rockville is to take a tour of American architectural history. The wealth generated by the mills is still visible in the homes that line the streets. You can see the proud, columned porches of the Greek Revival style, popular when the city was first finding its feet. There are the ornate brackets and tall windows of Italianate villas, homes built for mill owners who wanted to show off their success. You will find the steep, dramatic roofs of Gothic Revival homes and the elaborate, whimsical charm of Queen Anne houses, with their turrets and sprawling porches.

The architectural timeline continues with the heavy, rounded arches of the Romanesque style and the formal elegance of Colonial and Classical Revivals. Even the humble Bungalow, the house of the rising middle class, finds its place here. These grander homes are woven together by simpler, practical structures, the houses and shops that were home to the thousands of workers who kept the looms running day and night.

By the turn of the twentieth century, Rockville had reached its peak. The woolen textile industry was mature, the population was stable, and nearly every available lot within the city limits had been built upon. The city that stands today was largely complete. While the mills continued to operate until 1952, the boom years were over. The city had grown as much as it was going to.

This period of arrested development is precisely what makes Rockville so special. Because the area was so densely built out by the early 1900s, there was little room for the kind of twentieth-century development that transformed so many other American towns. The result is a remarkably intact district. Of the 975 buildings here, an astonishing 87 percent contribute to its historic character. Most streets still feel as they did over a century ago.

The city is not without its scars. Like many industrial centers, Rockville suffered from the mid-century push for urban renewal. Several early mills and commercial blocks in the downtown area were lost, torn down in the name of progress that now feels shortsighted. These gaps in the city’s heart are a permanent reminder of what can be lost.

When Albert Dart arrived in Rockville in the early 1850s, the town was already humming with the energy of industry. The Hockanum River had been put to work, its banks lined with textile mills founded by local farmers and businessmen who had seen the potential in its rushing water. But Dart was part of a new wave, an ambitious new breed of entrepreneur who saw not just a thriving village, but a landscape of opportunity waiting for a bolder vision.

Born in nearby Tolland in 1823, Dart was not a man of inherited wealth or lofty education. He was a tradesman, a blacksmith who had learned to shape iron with his own two hands. After setting up a shop in Rockville in 1842, he seemed destined for a life at the forge. But a fire changed everything. When the Windermere Mill burned down in 1844, Dart saw more than just ashes. He saw a chance. He purchased the ruined property, then shrewdly sold it to an out-of-state company on the condition that they hire him to build the new factory.

That deal lit a fire in him. The profit and the experience were a revelation. He realized his true talent was not just in shaping metal, but in shaping the very landscape of the city.

Emboldened, Dart began scouting his own projects closer to home. His eyes settled on two promising but undeveloped sites along the Hockanum. One was a relatively straightforward piece of land downstream, nestled between two existing factories. The other was a far more difficult prize: a rugged, steep property at the top of a waterfall near Paper Mill Pond, a place of jagged rocks and challenging terrain.

Starting in 1855, Dart began a fourteen-year campaign to tame these two sites. He was a force of nature, excavating dams and mill races to channel the river’s power, and erecting modern brick and stone factories where there had been only rock and wilderness. True to his new business model, he completed the mill complex on the lower, easier site and promptly sold it to another manufacturer, banking the capital and the experience.

Then he turned his attention to the falls.

This was the ultimate test of his skill and ambition. The land, which he purchased along with its crucial water rights in 1862, was a builder’s nightmare. Yet over the next seven years, Dart completely transformed it. He envisioned not one, but three separate factory buildings, all drawing power from the same violent rush of water. This required a complex and masterfully designed system of dams and canals to split the river’s force precisely.

Back half of the former Carlisle (Carlysle) Thread Company locally known as the "Daniels Mill" (Hockanum Mills)

Dart Stone Mill by Albert Dart.

Belding Brothers & Co -  Sewing Silk Mill - Dec 1921

 Dec 1921 - Jan 1946

First, in 1865, he built a mill for the Carlisle Thread Company. This later became the Daniel’s Mill (M. T. Stevens & Sons Company) building, a landmark that still stands. Two years later, he completed his second mill at a key intersection, which was first owned by the E. K. Rose Company. When that business failed, the Belding Brothers, giants of the silk thread industry, bought the factory and turned it into a cornerstone of their empire for decades to come.

By 1868, construction began on his final, and most magnificent, creation: the Stone Mill. Perched dramatically above the river, this five-story building is the most scenic of all Rockville’s mills, a stone sentinel visible from the center of town. Dart designed it so the Hockanum River itself flows through a stone arch at the building’s base before feeding a pond used to power another mill downstream.

 

Unlike his other projects, Dart did not sell the Stone Mill. He knew he had created a landmark, and he kept it, renting out the factory space to a variety of businesses.

Tailwater exiting underneath the arched opening in the rubble foundation of the 3 1/2-story wing.

Underneath the ground floor of Dart Stone Mill, there is a large metal pipe that channels enormous amounts of water for energy production.

Interior of the former power plant base foundation. Below is the entrance to Dart's water wheel would have stood before being upgraded to a turbine. 

To power this massive three-mill complex, Dart knew he needed something extraordinary. He designed a water wheel of such immense scale that upon its completion, it was hailed as the largest in the country. Mill owners and engineers traveled to Rockville just to gaze upon his creation. It was a testament not only to his vision but to the town's ecosystem of talent. The wheel was a purely local triumph, manufactured by Burt & Putnam, cast at the Murless Foundry, and forged by Pat Hurley, all Rockville companies working together to bring Dart’s audacious dream to life.

Albert Dart's great water wheel was his masterpiece. Hailed as the largest in the country, it was a marvel of engineering, a symbol of Rockville's industrial might, and the crowning achievement of a blacksmith turned visionary. It was also his ruin.

History, as it so often does, had a cruel twist in store. The same newspapers that praised Dart's genius soon had to report on his downfall. The crushing weight of the water wheel's cost proved to be too much. The man who had tamed a river found himself drowned in debt. Within months of his greatest triumph, his creditors closed in, his business endeavors were halted, and he was dragged into the humiliation of a bankruptcy trial.

As if the financial collapse was not devastating enough, a second blow came to his character. Whispers turned into formal questions about his time as a town selectman. Had he used his public office to approve road and bridge projects in the 1850s and 1860s that conveniently benefited his own mill properties?

A committee was formed to investigate. They pored over the records and in the end, they cleared his name, finding no evidence of wrongdoing. But for a man like Albert Dart, a man who had built his career on his name and his word, the accusation itself was the conviction. The public stain on his name was a wound that would not heal. He felt his reputation was destroyed.

The fight went out of him. The ambitious blacksmith who had reshaped a section of the city retreated from the world he had helped build. He retired from business and from public life, a proud man broken by debt and suspicion. After a long illness, Albert Dart died in 1882. He was only 59 years old.

His story is a cautionary tale, but it is also a distinctly American one. Dart was a risk taker, part of a generation of industrial entrepreneurs who came from the trades and were willing to bet everything on a bold idea. He used his practical skills to solve a complex problem in a way no one else had, designing an innovative system to power three factories at once. That vision, that willingness to risk it all, is what built cities like Rockville.

Today, the impressive water wheel that cost him everything has vanished, long ago replaced by a more efficient turbine and now gone completely. But Albert Dart’s true legacy endures, written in stone and brick against the Rockville skyline. His three mill buildings still stand as powerful landmarks by the waterfall, a testament to his ambition.

Interior of the Dart Stone Mill.

Former Rose Silk Mill

And now, they are on the cusp of a new life. Soon, these old factories will undergo a remarkable transformation, their sturdy frames to be filled with homes. The looms are gone, the great wheel has vanished into rust and memory. But the stone walls that Albert Dart raised from the riverbank remain. Soon, they will echo not with the roar of machinery, but with the quiet rhythms of daily life. It is a future he could never have imagined, a legacy of homes and community born from the triumph and tragedy of his ambition.

The years between 1850 and 1875 were a fever dream in Rockville. The city was on fire with ambition, its growth fueled by the insatiable demand for woolen textiles during the Civil War and the relentless pace of new technology. This was not just a period of expansion; it was a revolution in how the city was built. A new era of bigger, stronger, and safer mills was dawning.

The constant threat in any textile mill was fire. Lint, oil, and wood were a catastrophic combination. The solution that arrived in this era was called slow-burning construction, a smart new way to build factories that were more resistant to fire. It featured massive brick masonry walls on the outside and heavy timber frames inside. These thick beams would char in a fire rather than collapse, buying precious time.

The pioneer of this new style in Rockville was the Florence Mill, erected in 1864. It was a statement piece, a transitional work of architecture caught between the ornate Italianate style and the bold, new Second Empire. Its most dramatic feature was a slate-shingled Mansard roof, crowned by an imposing six-story tower with a beautiful, open belfry at its peak. It was a factory that looked more like a city hall, a symbol of the industry’s newfound confidence.

This wave of construction swept through the city right after the war. It was during this time that Albert Dart was erecting his three-mill complex by the falls. His Samuel Fitch and Sons mill, a handsome brick Italianate structure, went up in 1865. The Belding Silk Mill followed in 1867, and his magnificent Dart Stone Mill, with its unique stucco-finished stone, was completed in 1868. These new giants were changing the face of the city.

But while these new brick titans were rising, one of Rockville’s oldest survivors was undergoing a rebirth of its own. The Hockanum Mills was the grand old man of Rockville’s factories, a direct link to the very beginning. It was first built in 1814, a simple wood-framed structure on the banks of the river. Think about that for a moment. 1814. James Madison was president, and the White House had just been burned by the British.

Back then, it was known as The Bingham and Nash Mill, and it produced a sturdy cloth called satinet, a blend of a cotton base with wool filling. In 1821, the mill was sold, and an identical building was constructed right beside it, earning them the nickname the Twin Mills. The business grew, and in 1848, a much larger mill was added to the site. But in 1854, disaster struck. A massive fire tore through the complex, destroying the newest building.

Like the city itself, the Hockanum Mills was resilient. It was rebuilt, but the market was changing. The demand for satinet (satin) was fading. In 1869, a new president, George Maxwell, took over and made a brilliant decision. He retooled the entire operation to produce high-quality wool for menswear. It was a gamble that paid off handsomely. The mill became wildly profitable, employing around 100 workers and earning a reputation for excellence.

That reputation reached the highest office in the land. In 1897, when President William McKinley stood to take the oath of office, the inaugural suit he wore was made from fabric woven right here, at the Hockanum Mills.

The mill’s story continued. In 1906, it merged with three other local mills to form a holding company, The Hockanum Mills Company. It survived the Great Depression, only to face a new, insurmountable challenge: the invention of synthetic fabrics. The age of wool was coming to an end. In 1951, under a new owner, M.T. Stevens & Company, which purchased the mills in 1934, the looms of the Hockanum Mills, the mill that had survived fires and reinvented itself for over a century, fell silent for the last time.

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Dart Stone mill elevator.

Looking down Brooklyn Street towards E Main Street, the former Rose Silk Manufacturing Company is visible on the left, connected via a pedestrian bridge to the Belding operation acquired in 1871 (later known as Belding Brothers). To the right stood a larger building attached to the castle-like building. It was demolished in 2014, along with smaller ancillary buildings located to the left of the Dart Stone Mill.

"Old Stone Mill Falls" aka Dart Stone Mill
Courtesy of The Museum of Connecticut History 

Undated Google Earth satellite view of all original buildings before the 2014 partial demolition.

After the looms fell silent, a factory’s life can take a strange and winding path. For Albert Dart’s old mill, the decades after 1985 were a slow fade from its grand industrial purpose. It became a catch-all for the messy aftermath of industry, a hollowed-out shell housing a string of tenants: a sheet metal workshop, band practice rooms, an electrician’s shop. Its final, quiet role was as a self-storage facility, its vast floors carved into a maze of small, anonymous lockers.

But this slow decline masked a deeper, more dangerous problem. The building was sick. According to Vernon’s development director, Shaun Gately, the former textile mill became a toxic hotspot. After the clean business of weaving wool ended, it was used for far dirtier operations, including a paint factory. For years, the very bones of the building, its massive wooden floors, beams, and pillars, soaked up a poisonous legacy of chemicals and contaminants.

The diagnosis is grim: all of the wood inside is contaminated and must be ripped out and replaced. It is an expensive and heartbreaking necessity. The building that was once a marvel of slow-burning construction must be gutted to its brick and stone shell before it can be reborn.

This is the challenge now facing the Town of Vernon. After taking control of the building in 2021, the town is looking for a contractor to perform the massive cleanup, a daunting first step in a bold redevelopment plan. The vision, championed by town officials and developer John Gumpert of Camden Management Partners, is to transform this poisoned relic into the crown jewel of a new residential community.

Exterior brick wall of Belding Brothers architectural features.

Rose Silk Mill buttoned up tighter than Fort Knox.

The plan is to convert the historic Daniels Mill into apartments and, crucially, the amenities center for a much larger complex. The vast majority of the 214 planned apartments will be built in the neighboring Anacoil and Amerbelle properties, but Daniels Mill will be the heart of the community, the historic soul of the new neighborhood. In total, 157 apartments will be carved out of the old mill buildings, with another 57 units planned for new construction on the site.

This is not a project for the faint of heart. The abatement is a monumental task. The town has secured over $4 million in grants from the state’s Brownfield Remediation Program, funds specifically designed to clean up old, contaminated industrial sites like this one. The work will involve removing hazardous waste, demolishing the old boiler room and loading dock, and digging up contaminated soil from the ground itself. It is a painstaking, expensive act of healing.

Only after the poison has been purged can the building’s second act truly begin. It is a long way from weaving wool to creating modern homes. But if the plan succeeds, Albert Dart’s old mill, which once housed the largest water wheel in the country, will find a new purpose, its sturdy walls echoing not with the roar of machinery, but with the life of a new generation. It is a chance to honor the past not by preserving it in amber, but by making it part of a living future.

Thanks for reading, and as always, thanks for supporting this exploration of Connecticut's industrial past.

Source(s):

1. Stacom, D. (2025, August 8). 19th-century mill complex in CT could be redeveloped into 214 apartments with retail. Hartford Courant. https://www.courant.com/2025/08/08/19th-century-mill-complex-in-ct-could-be-redeveloped-into-214-apartments-with-retail/

2. Connecticut Department of Economic and Community Development. (n.d.). Daniels Mill adaptive reuse and remediation project: Scoping notice [Government report]. Connecticut Official State Website. https://portal.ct.gov/ceq/decd/scoping-notice/daniels-mill-adaptive-reuse-and-remediation-project

3. Dehnel, C. (2025, July 28). Vernon hosting stakeholder meeting on Daniel's Mill remediation project. Patch (Vernon, CT). https://patch.com/connecticut/vernon/vernon-hosting-stakeholder-meeting-daniel-s-mill-remediation-project

4. Bedner, E. (2025, July 16). CT Vernon Daniel's Mill site eyed for redevelopment after AmerBelle, Anicoil cleanup. Connecticut Post/Journal Inquirer. https://www.ctpost.com/journalinquirer/article/ct-vernon-daniel-s-mill-amerbelle-anicoil-20771967.php

5. Dehnel, C. (2024, June 17). Another $2 million earmarked for remediation at old factory in Vernon. Patch (Vernon, CT). https://patch.com/connecticut/vernon/another-2-million-earmarked-remediation-old-factory-vernon

6. Scinto, R. (2015, January 29). Mayor Champagne: Daniels Mill cleanup grant 'important for Vernon'. Patch (Vernon, CT). https://patch.com/connecticut/vernon/mayor-champagne-daniels-mill-cleanup-grant-important-vernon-0

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8. Symonds, R. N., Jr. (2017). Water power mill sites in Vernon, CT. [Unpublished manuscript]. Vernon Historical Society.

9. An old resident gone. (1882, June 3). Tolland County Journal.

10. Important manufacturing enterprises. (1869, May 8). Tolland County Journal.

11. Cogswell, W. T. (2006). History of Rockville from 1823 to 1871. Vernon Historical Society. (Original work published 1871)

12. Vernon Historical Society. (1989). Vernon & Historic Rockville. Arcadia Publishing.

13. Abbott, S. A. (2003). Building the loom city: Rockville, Connecticut, 1821-1908. Dorrance Publishing.

14. Luddy, J. (2017, November). Albert Dart and his remarkable water wheel [PDF]. Vernon Historical Society. https://vernonhistoricalsoc.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/11/Albert-Dart-and-his-Remarkable-Water-Wheel.pdf

15. Bedner, E. (2025, July 16). RFP issued for the cleanup of Vernon mill. Journal Inquirer. https://www.ctinsider.com/journalinquirer/article/ct-vernon-daniel-s-mill-amerbelle-anicoil-20771967.php

16. Lamar, K. (2014, April 10). Rockville: Hockanum Mills [Blog post]. Blogger. https://klamarphotography.blogspot.com/2014/04/rockville-hockanum-mills.html

17. (1946) Sanborn Fire Insurance Map from Rockville, Tolland County, Connecticut. Sanborn Map Company, De - Jan 1946. [Map] Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/sanborn01169_007/

18. Brigham, D. (2021, April 27). Zooming through the loom city, part I: The mills of Torrington. Backside of America. https://backsideofamerica.blogspot.com/2021/04/zooming-through-loom-city-part-i-mills.html

19. (1921) Sanborn Fire Insurance Map from Rockville, Tolland County, Connecticut. Sanborn Map Company, De. [Map] Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/sanborn01169_006/