Northampton Silk on Silk:
The Silk History Quilt of the Northampton Silk Project
The twelve panels of this quilt, Northampton Silk on Silk, depict the history of silk in Northampton and Florence.
Center Panel: Raising Silkworms
In the early 1830's, raising silkworms and their food supply, the leaves of the mulberry tree, was a popular pastime throughout the Connecticut Valley. After the silkworms (the caterpillarBombyx mori) spun their cocoons each spring, housewives would unwind them, twist the "raw silk" into thread, dye it, and and use it for stockings and sewing.The Mill River (shown here running northwest to southeast, where it joins the much larger Connecticut) turned the wheels of thirty mills in those days, including -- after 1833 -- a silk mill.
In the early 1830's, raising silkworms and their food supply, the leaves of the mulberry tree, was a popular pastime throughout the Connecticut Valley. After the silkworms (the caterpillarBombyx mori) spun their cocoons each spring, housewives would unwind them, twist the "raw silk" into thread, dye it, and and use it for stockings and sewing.The Mill River (shown here running northwest to southeast, where it joins the much larger Connecticut) turned the wheels of thirty mills in those days, including -- after 1833 -- a silk mill.
The Silk-Making Process Panel
1. Cocoons after the silkworms have spun them. The silkworm converts mulberry leaves into a liquid silk, which it stores in a special gland. When the gland is full, the worm ejects the silk in two continuous strands which join together and harden on contact with the air. Nodding and bobbing, it wraps itself up in this delicate fiber; inside, it proceeds to turn into a moth.
2. Spools of silk thread.
3. To make thread, the cocoon must be unwound before the moth cuts through it. The Chinese discovered 5,000 years ago that sericin, the gummy substance that binds the cocoons together, dissolves in hot water. The process of unwinding the cocoons is called reeling. Several cocoons are unwound together, because the individual filaments are too fine. The sericin remaining on the silk binds these strands into one. In the 1830's, New England farmers used various versions of the Piedmont reeler*.
4. Late in the nineteenth century, the Nonotuck Silk Company adopted the brand name "Corticelli," a nod to the public's adoration of all silks Italian. The flower in this panel is embroidered with real Corticelli embroidery thread. The design is copied from one of the Corticelli Home Needlework Book that the company produced to promote sales of its threads.
1. Cocoons after the silkworms have spun them. The silkworm converts mulberry leaves into a liquid silk, which it stores in a special gland. When the gland is full, the worm ejects the silk in two continuous strands which join together and harden on contact with the air. Nodding and bobbing, it wraps itself up in this delicate fiber; inside, it proceeds to turn into a moth.
2. Spools of silk thread.
3. To make thread, the cocoon must be unwound before the moth cuts through it. The Chinese discovered 5,000 years ago that sericin, the gummy substance that binds the cocoons together, dissolves in hot water. The process of unwinding the cocoons is called reeling. Several cocoons are unwound together, because the individual filaments are too fine. The sericin remaining on the silk binds these strands into one. In the 1830's, New England farmers used various versions of the Piedmont reeler*.
4. Late in the nineteenth century, the Nonotuck Silk Company adopted the brand name "Corticelli," a nod to the public's adoration of all silks Italian. The flower in this panel is embroidered with real Corticelli embroidery thread. The design is copied from one of the Corticelli Home Needlework Book that the company produced to promote sales of its threads.
Samuel Whitmarsh opened Northampton's first silk mill in 1834. The building was known as the "old oil mill" because its grindstones had pressed linseed in the days when farmers raised flax and their wives spun it into linen. Whitmarsh's silk machinery was made by the master machinist Nathan Rixford, of Mansfield, Connecticut (the cradle of American silk manufacture.)After a visit to Europe to inspect the silk industy there, Whitmarsh built a large brick factory, shown below, also on the Mill River, and planted 25 acres of mulberry trees nearby.
His cocoonery -- a barn-like shed on his in-town Northampton estate -- was built to house 2,000,000 silk worms
His cocoonery -- a barn-like shed on his in-town Northampton estate -- was built to house 2,000,000 silk worms
Harrison Holland, an impecunious inventor, received U.S. Patent 977 for his "Silk Spinner" in 1838.
This panel shows the model he submitted with his patent application. The patent was awarded for two innovations: the machine stopped automatically when a thread broke, and it was easy to reverse the direction of the twist. Holland was living in Northampton at the time, and his machine was used by in the silk industry here.
Holland grew up near Mansfield, Connecticut, where he ran a wool-carding business, but fewer and fewer women spun their own wool.After several moves, the family made Northampton their permanent home. Holland, his wife, and three daughters are buried in the Bridge Street Cemetery.One of Holland's sons, Josiah Gilbert Holland, became a noted teacher, essayist, and poet.
This panel shows the model he submitted with his patent application. The patent was awarded for two innovations: the machine stopped automatically when a thread broke, and it was easy to reverse the direction of the twist. Holland was living in Northampton at the time, and his machine was used by in the silk industry here.
Holland grew up near Mansfield, Connecticut, where he ran a wool-carding business, but fewer and fewer women spun their own wool.After several moves, the family made Northampton their permanent home. Holland, his wife, and three daughters are buried in the Bridge Street Cemetery.One of Holland's sons, Josiah Gilbert Holland, became a noted teacher, essayist, and poet.
This panel depicts the slender thread that pulled the Northampton's silk industry out of the dustbin and onto its feet in the early 1850's: "machine twist," a strong triple strand of uniform width that could withstand the demands of the newly invented sewing machine.The Northampton silk industry almost didn't make it. It died its first death in 1839. Silk growing had become very popular in the late 1830's, as the rise of manufacture promised new markets for cocoons. The price of mulberry trees shot up from $5 a hundred to $500 in just a few years. Samuel Whitmarsh's Northampton Silk Company collapsed when the bubble burst.Whitmarsh's factory and orchard were bought by the Northampton Association for Education and Industry, an abolitionist utopian community. Its hardy members valiantly tried support themselves by selling the silk that they raised and manufactured, but they too gave up after a few years.
One of the members, Samuel Hill, stayed in Northampton and revived manufacture, but he bought his raw silk instead of raising his own. Hill rose to the challenge of devising a suitable sewing machine thread. His "machine twist" delighted Isaac Singer. In the Singer archive in Madison, Wisconsin, Smith student Alena Shumway found the canceled checks that put Hill's business on its feet.
One of the members, Samuel Hill, stayed in Northampton and revived manufacture, but he bought his raw silk instead of raising his own. Hill rose to the challenge of devising a suitable sewing machine thread. His "machine twist" delighted Isaac Singer. In the Singer archive in Madison, Wisconsin, Smith student Alena Shumway found the canceled checks that put Hill's business on its feet.
This panel shows a detail of the tripling machine that Hill patented. Instead of twisting three separate strands of silk together, it loops a single strand into a triple twist. In the days before reeling was done to uniform standards, this gave a smoother thread than three separate strands could.
After the Civil War, Hill's Nonotuck Silk Company grew to be Northampton's largest employer and one of the largest silk thread manufacturers in the nation. The Nonotuck Silk Company won prizes at the Centennial and other expositions in the late 1890's. By the turn of the twentieth century, the Nonotuck Silk Company comprised many large mills.
The dye house of the Nonotuck Silk Company, circa 1900. From "SILK: its origin, culture, and manufacture," a booklet published by the Nonotuck Silk Company at the turn of the century.
While the rest of the nation converted to steam, the owners of mills on New England rivers resisted making the change. The Mill River supplied power to Northampton's mills, including the prosperous Nonotuck Silk Company, into the 1870's. The mill owners joined forces to build a dam, but nature's forces were greater. The flood of May, 1874 cost 150 lives.
This panel depicts the famous Corticelli silks of the early 20th century.The company's logo, the "Corticelli Kitten," became synonymous with quality silk thread. Its sign at 42nd Street and Broadway in New York (1910-1913) was one of the earliest ads on the Great White Way.
The Nonotuck, later Coricelli, Silk Company bought all its raw silk from Japan. Its booklet, "SILK, its origin, culture, and manufacture," includes several hand-colored photographs showing Japanese workers raising silkworms and reeling and sorting cocoons.
The Nonotuck, later Coricelli, Silk Company bought all its raw silk from Japan. Its booklet, "SILK, its origin, culture, and manufacture," includes several hand-colored photographs showing Japanese workers raising silkworms and reeling and sorting cocoons.
In 1922, the Nonotuck Silk Company merged with the Brainerd and Armstrong Company to form the Corticelli Silk Company; ten years later, the Corticelli Silk Company merged with the Belding-Hemingway Company. Smith student Sarah Homrighausen recreated one of the gowns shown above.
The silk industry's large factories spurred cottage industries too. Westfield, near Northampton, was known as "Whip City" in the horse-and-buggy days, and the lashes, or whipsnaps, at the ends of the whips were often made of silk. This panel is based on a painting in the Smith College Museum of Artcollection, Edwin Romanzo Elmer's "A Lady of Baptist Corner, Ashfield, Massachusetts," dated 1892 (shown below). The artist's wife is making whipsnaps on a machine of his invention.
The Corticelli Silk Company closed its Northampton area mills in the early 1930's, a victim of rayon, short skirts, and the Great Depression. Gone, but not forgotten: myserious place names like Corticelli Street, a few gnarled old mulberry trees, and a large mural depicting the wide range of women's work in early twentieth century Northampton (off Masonic Street in downtown Northampton) remind us that Northampton was an important stop on America's own Silk Road. This scene from the mural shows women winding silk in the Corticelli Silk Company.