It has been my intention for a number of years to write about the historically important powder mills which once thrived in upstate New York where I spent my childhood. Unfortunately, knowledge of the black powder industry and its role in the development of our nation is fast disappearing. The finding of authentic records and accounts of participants or eyewitnesses becomes more difficult with the passing of time. This book was written to help perpetuate a fascinating, but rather neglected, chapter in our countrys history.

The Powder Mill Gates portrays in vivid detail life in a powder mill town and the dangers that the powdermakers endured as part of their everyday existence. Written from the perspective of my mother as she recalls the days when my grandfather worked for the Schaghticoke Powder Company, this combination of memories, documented facts and vintage photos provides insight into the lives and work of the men who manufactured black powder. While this account focuses on one specific mill, its somber past typifies hundreds of powder mills throughout the country, just as the men mentioned throughout these pages personify all who walked the powder-line.

The origin of black powder, commonly called gunpowder, has been debated for centuries. Generally it is agreed that Friar Roger Bacon was the first to record the quantitative formula for the three ingredients of black powder; sulfur, saltpeter (Potassium Nitrate) and charcoal. Later on, a German monk by the name of Berthold Schwartz would invent the first firearm and develop gunpowder so that it could be used for specific purposes.

Websters Dictionary defines romance as an emotional attachment or aura belonging to an especially heroic era or activity. This makes it a fitting word to describe the dynamic black powder era. For centuries black powder rendered a valuable service, both as a blasting powder and as a propelling agent. Its power literally moved mountains and unleashed Natures storehouse of energy. During the Dark Ages, black powder experiments were considered black magic. This magic was the genesis of a dynamic and explosive industry which changed the world.

The long and exciting romance of black powder would not be complete without remembering the powdermakers - the heart of the black powder business. Skilled powdermakers were a crucial resource to our country in the days when black powder was king. All of our great engineering triumphs, from the primitive age into the space age, can be traced back to black powder and its men.

As a child, I often walked through the collapsed mill site, heedless of the significant scars beneath the undergrowth. Today, as an adult, walking these same overgrown woods among the crumbling remains, I think back to busier days. Ravaged by time, these decaying ruins are poignant reminders that I am walking in the footprints of men who were a crucial part in the advancement of our country. While standing next to the eroding earthen mounds of old powder magazines, I can almost hear the rumbling noises of the mill and the voices of the men. These echoes from the past should not be forgotten!

Different types of men from various locations and backgrounds worked in the dangerous business of making black powder. These men probably never realized the full impact of their work or the fact that they had something in common other than the hazard of their work. Their heroic spirit that dedication, perseverance, and day-to-day courage - required to be a gunpowder man.

Its the everyday hero we count on

Who does his plain duty each day

And bearing the risks and the burdens

Never a word of complaint does he say

In the face of danger and trial

He works hard and earns what he can

And he stands among the most noble

the gallant gunpowder man!



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My father, William Engel, was a powdermaker during the years when the black powder industry flourished in our town. Within the power and scope of my knowledge, I have endeavored to relate many of the events which took place in the valley, to describe the scenery, the people, their homes, and give as accurate sketch of what it was like to grow up where burns, injuries and losses to property were common occurrences. Many changes have taken place since 1928. The peaceful hills and valleys of long ago remain but the town life I knew has vanished along with the abandoned powder mills. Although memories have a way of mellowing through the years, traumatic events often cannot be erased. The images I have written of here the memories of a powdermakers daughter remain forever imprinted in my mind.

..Helen Engel Kelly

Whenever I think back to those early days when my father was a powdermaker, I remember so many sights, smells and sounds. But most of all, I remember the powder mill gates. The powder mill gates, which read No admittance, separated the work place from home and family. Beyond the gates were the mills where work was hard and dangerous. At these gates, children would meet their fathers and brothers to give them their lunch pails. Only the workers themselves were allowed inside for it would have been dangerous to permit any outsiders to enter the powder yard. It was here, outside these gates that frantic families would quickly gather to huddle in fear desperate for word of injuries after an explosion.

Many occupations have a high rate of mortality but the complete and utter destruction caused by a powder mill explosion is hard to describe. A veteran powdermaker once said, There are no half-way measures about an explosion. It settles the matter for you at once. Living in a powder mill town where stories of devastating explosions and of men being blown across the Hoosic River flourished, I grew up knowing firsthand of the dangers and hardships endured by the powdermakers and their families.