Where do you even begin to describe the history of Essex Mill?
It started all the way back in the 1690s, when a small grist mill was built up the road about a quarter of a mile by the swamp. It was built by a man named William Covington and was called Covington's Mill. It was just a little mill with two sets of French burr millstones. The wood to build it came from the trees that were cut down right there on that plot of land. All it did was grind corn or flour—there were no sifters or bolters of any type to refine the product.
In the mid-1770s, either the mill was torn down or burned down.
Building a new mill.
By this point in time, the mill was owned by the Cauthorn family. The millstones were moved up the way a bit to the current site. The new mill was built around them, and the latest and greatest equipment was added. Water to power it was brought in from the millpond via a little mill race that ran all the way to an undershot water wheel. Instead of water being directed over the top like the more common setup, this wheel was powered by water hitting the bottom and causing it to spin.
Sometime around 1910, the machinery inside the mill was upgraded. All of it was bought from the Wolf Company in Chambersburg, PA. Roller mills were added to grind smoother flour, along with more advanced sifters. One of these was called the Gyrator. It shook at a constant speed, sifting flour through various screens to separate the finest product from the more coarse.
Once all this new equipment was installed and the mill got started again, they found the wheel just couldn’t produce enough speed or power to keep things running steadily—certainly not fast enough to grind properly. Because of this, the mill race was rebuilt to fit a turbine. A turbine is a little cylinder that water is directed through. The more water that sits above it, the more power it produces. When you open the gates, the weight of the water forces the blades inside to spin. By this time, most new mills were using turbines instead of water wheels, because turbines produced way more power. A shed was built around it to direct the flow of water and make maintenance easier.
This same year, Eddie Howard came to the mill at the age of 14, with only a second-grade education. He showed up looking for a job as an apprentice, wanting to work his way up. He was given the job, and at the time, the mill employed about 15 people. There was also a small one-story wing with a loft above it added onto the right side of the building, which housed a small general store and the Dunnsville post office. We're not exactly sure when this was added, but later on, the post office moved to Ware's Store up Route 17. The general store at Essex Mill had a bake oven, and at one point, it was known for its bread—that was the main product of the store.
Also during this time, a Fairbanks-Morse diesel engine was added to provide extra power. Franklin Hundley, who once owned the mill, stated that during World War II, the engine and the mill ran day and night. When occasional droughts hit and water levels got too low for other mills to operate, Essex Mill kept going—it was the only one that could.
Sometime in the 1940s or ’50s (there’s no official record), the general store quietly disappeared. By then, Eddie was the sole employee. He handled every repair, big or small, and took on all the responsibilities that came with being a miller. With the general store empty, the old bake oven was removed and a potbelly stove was put in its place. The original brick chimney still stands today, though it’s in need of some work. That space became Eddie’s office. It was also a place for loyal customers to wait while their flour was being ground—or just to hang out and talk.
Everything kept going like this for years, with folks stopping in to buy products—people on vacation, locals, and loyal farmers. But in the late ’60s and into the ’70s, the Environmental Protection Agency and the Food and Drug Administration started enforcing new regulations. They visited multiple times until finally, they labeled the flour not fit for human consumption. Essex could still sell chicken scratch and hog feed, but that was it. Even so, Eddie continued grinding flour and selling it under the table to the most loyal customers.
That went on for two years until they officially closed the business in 1976. It was the end of the business on paper, but Eddie kept the mill going—not grinding product, but showing it to visitors and school groups. By 1984, he could no longer get around as well, and the mill was no longer maintained.
There have been many solo attempts to save the mill over the years, but now we’re asking for your help to one day get Essex Mill going again! And maybe—just maybe—one day we’ll sell flour under its original slogan:
“Home Pride.”
Original Writing About Essex Mill By Franklin Hundley The Former Owner
Writing From Essex County Bulletin 31 Website: HERE
This Is Now No Longer There
Credit: Essex Museum
Credit: Essex Museum