Factory in the Wilderness: Katahdin Iron Works, 1845-1890

October 1, 2006 PHM Lecture given by historian Joel Eastman

reported by Jack Reynolds

Moses Greenleaf

When Moses Greenleaf, Maine's first map maker surveyed Maine resources in the 1820s he had a theory that Native American place names could provide clues to valuable resources. The Aabanaki place name for a hill near Brownville, Maine sounded something like "Moonalungua" and translated to "fire paint." Since iron ore oxidizes when exposed to air and forms red ochre Greenleaf was convinced that a source of iron lay in the shadow of Mt. Katahdin

Intrigued by the notion that development of the Katahdin iron deposit would be a boon to local farmers and woodsmen, Greenleaf forged a horseshoe as proof that his discovery was a site worth developing. Armed with his Katahdin iron horseshoe talisman, he traveled about spreading the message to Maine legislators and investors that opportunities would open up for locals to mine ore and cut wood for charcoal to fuel the blast furnace.

"The history of the iron works illustrates Maine's effort to make a transition from farming and lumbering into a modern industrial economy of which the ability manufacture iron in state was a key," said Joel Eastman, University of Southern Maine Professor of History Emeritus. "Maine leaders hoped that Katahdin iron would provide less expensive cast and refined iron for Maine industry. One of the biggest dreams was to use Katahdin iron to transition to the building of ships out of iron.".
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Slow burning beehive ovens converted wood to charcoal needed to make fires hot enough to melt ore.

Eventually entrepreneur, Samuel Smith, got Greenleaf's message. In 1841 he purchased the ore site and organized the Maine Iron Company. Smelters along with a whole village to support the workforce was constructed. Smith's investment proved unprofitable and he sold out to

David Pingree, a shipping tycoon from Salem, MA. By 1849 Pingree's blast furnace produced 1,700 tons of pig iron for the Philadelphia market. Despite sales in Philadelphia, problems remained for Pingree's operation Removing the ore's high sulfur content produced a brittle product that was undesirable for most projects.

"Different iron ores are suitable for different purposes," said Joel. "Unfortunately Katahdin ore didn't seem to be good for any purpose."In 1857 Pingree closed down the mine and smelter operation. A subsequent owner reopened and kept things going until he failed in 1873.

Iron ore was poured into the top of the tall blast furnace at rear. Hot charcoal fed fires melted it down for pouring into pigs in the building. in front.

Scientists hired by Owen Davis, Katahdin's next owner, finally solved the sulfur problem. It seems that high temperatures used to remove the soulful increased its silicon content and produced brittle metal.. Regulation of smelting temperatures resulted in a superior product that was beginning to find a market. Davis's improvements included a railroad to Bangor pierheads and a connection to Canadian National tracks. Katahdin iron was shipped west to Detroit to make railroad car couplings.

Iron workers. Greenleaf's dream came true.

Data researched by Joel shows that at its peak the operation employed 300 to 500 men cutting wood for charcoal, 156 residents in the village. A new Silver Lake Hotel, catered to a growing tourist trade introduced by the Davis's new railroad.

After the fire. Only the blast furnace remains standing. An out building remains in the foreground.

Trains to Kathadin Iron Works eventually added passenger cars for a burgeoning tourist trade

Katahdin Iron Works survived a major 1883 fire and continued in operation until lack of revenue shut the operation down for good in 1890. The hotel burned down in 1913 and the last train left town in 1922. For a while the tracks were used by a light rail vehicle that carried sportsmen to the area. A chemical company saw possibilities for mining sulfur in 1952 and purchased the town for $1.25 million. The smelter site was deeded to the state as a historical monument.

Paddles to deflect molten iron from the Sow at left for cooling in the short horizontal Pigs at left.

In a lighter moment during his lecture Joel asked the audience why pig iron is so named. Following a few suggestions ("Looks like a pig?" "Color?" "Shape?") he put up a picture of the Katahdin smelter's floor. Molten iron from the furnace fills a long trench called a "Sow". As it flows along the sow paddles deflect some of the flows to cool and harden in the smaller short perpendicular trenches called..... (you guessed it)....."Pigs"

Before the railroad horse drawn wagons hauled the pigs to pierheads in Bangor.

Joel noted that iron pigs are sometimes discovered along hilly stretches of the old roadway leading from the Katahdin works. It seems that when a teamsters horsepower started to fail he remedied the situation by jettisoning some of Mr. Owen's product.

"Katahdin Iron Works eventually failed," said Joel, "but it fueled the dreams of Maine's leaders for 50 years."

Joel W. Eastman, Professor of History Emeritus, University of Southern Maine, used the records of the Katahdin Iron Works as the basis for a history of the operation, which became his Master's thesis in History at the University of Maine in 1965.