Valley Girl Views: Reminiscences of Milton by J.P. Kohler

In the 1920's, Attorney James Pollock Kohler wrote a series of letters about his early years as a boy in Milton Pa. The Miltonian published them under the heading "Reminiscences of Milton by J.P; Kohler".

This letter, published in September 1921, focused on the tannery's, shoemakers, and Wilson Fly Net Factory, with a great story about the boys using the leather scraps from the fly-net factory in a "battle" between the "Upper Enders" and "Lower Enders" of Milton.

INDUSTRIES

"I have heretofore mentioned the tannery on Back Street as one of the principal industries of Milton, and it seems apropos at this time to recall several smaller industries that might well have legitimately sprung from the loins of this larger leather business. There were saddlers, shoemakers and the Wilson fly net factory to illustrate and exemplify the kind and character of the leather trade in those days.

On Front street, below Center on the river side was the McCormick store of quite large dimensions. I do not recall that any leather goods were actually made on the premises, but in the store room and show windows was a great display of harness, saddles, whips, dog collars and general livery regalia.

On Broadway, about opposite the Bijou Drean, was that little shop and store of "Dan" Marsh, who later became a shoe merchant on Front street, In this shop Mr. Marsh made harness and saddles from the kind of leather that was tanned at the tannery. The back window of his shop looked out upon the vacant space upon which the Wilhelm livery fronted, and there was a strong kinship between the shop that made the harness and the stable which provided good markets for its product. Mr. Marsh took great pride in showing the results of his handiwork and especially the saddles, which seemed to be more difficult to make than harness and bridles. Many of the farmers driving in on Broadway stopped at this one-story frame shop to re-deck their teams with silver-mounted harness. The shop itself had a rectangular front and was in size and elevation similar to the main street stores of a Western mining town. But it turned out fine goods.

The shoemaker shops were more numerous and of much more more interest. Here, as the leather used was much softer and thinner, a boy could have a self-made ball of rubber or yarn, or cord, covered, which ball needed to be soft, as in the game of round-town the ball was thrown at the base runner, and he was "out" if it him him; but if it hurt him he was "outrageous." These shops had a number of workers at the benches and they were hot beds of discussion, for whether he was bristling his wax-end fitting the "upper" to the "last" or running his "awl" into his work, the shoemaker could always talk, even with a mouth full of pegs. If he harbored a mouthful of tobacco, he could stow it away in one cheek and "squirt" his juice between sentences on a pile of leather refuse near to each bench.

The largest shop was that of "Sam" Long, made from alterations in the Murray warehouse at the canal bridge on the south side of Broadway. There were at times eight or ten cobblers and shoemakers employed here

The next largest shop was that of Kauffman, on Arch street, at the rear of Dr. Davis' yard. Small boys were furnished with copper-toed, red-topped leather boots at Yount's shoe store on Front street, but men went to Long's or Kauffman's to have their boots made. A beautiful pair of calfskin, hand-sewed, perfectly fitting boots were made at either shop for twelve dollars. When the soles and heels were worn out a new foot was sewed to the leg at a cost of eight dollars. Very neat, light and artistic ladies' shoes were made to order in both of these shops. Shoe factories, shoemaking machinery and machine-made shoes, as we see them today, were then unknown. I would gladly pay, twice twelve dollars today for a pair of "Ben" Kauffman's hand-made boots.

Last week in Philadelphia, I saw a paper drawn up in Milton in 1831, of which I had no previous knowledge, though it concerned by forebears. It was an indenture of apprenticeship between one John Bright, a Milton shoemaker, and Jacob Kohler, in which George Kohler, a veteran of the Mexican war, and the war of 1812, whose bones have recently been removed from the old Harmony cemetery to make way for the new creamery, apprenticed his son to learn the "trade of cord wainer, alias boot and shoe maker." The terms of the contract are in many ways amusing, as they include among other things, relating to schools and religious teaching, an examination of the apprentice by a minister at least once a year, during his apprenticeship.

Several years back, a New York paper printed a curious apprenticeship indenture, made in the Chesapeake bay region, a century ago, in which it was stipulated that the master would not feed the apprentice canvass-back duck more than three times a week, nor terrapin more than twice a week, so plentiful in those days were these modern luxuries.

In 1831, the canal was being dug through Milton and about ten years later another shoemaker made a trip from New York to Milton, the difficult times of which he related with much gusto. A boat from the Battery carried the passenger to Perth Amboy, N. J., where a train of the old Camden and Amboy railroad, now a part of th Pennsylvania system, picked him up and took him to Camden ferry, where he crossed to Philadelphia. On the outskirts of Philadelphia another train awaited which finally landed him at Columbia, the terminal of the railroad. From Columbia, he went by packet, making several changes, to Milton, which was reached after four days from starting. The Miltonian several years ago printed a letter of a traveler from Boston to Pittsburgh, which trip took nearly a month, and this was a century after Ben Franklin walked, almost broke and looking for work, through a street of Philadelphia, munching a roll, while being laughed at by the woman who later was glad to share his name and fame.

But I have mentioned the Wilson fly-net factory. It occupied the second story of the Goodlander block and had several interesting pieces of machinery, one cut leather into strips about inch wide, another run strips of leather through holes to make the leather round, like shoe strings; another thinned leather strips from cowhide thickness down to the thickness of heavy paper. There was no machine split a hide up into several pieces of the same size, but thinner, as we now see in the "guaranteed" cow-hide grips today. These various parts were put together under valuable patents and were sold in great quantities as the Wilson Flynet, and brought much money into Milton.

Inside the Flynet Factory - at it's new location along Ferry St

Through the back windows of this factory and down upon the river bank were thrown the leather shavings from the' machines. A great pile was always there and boys frequented the place and wrapped these shavings into spool shaped ball, which, with a tack or pin to hold its shape, was a handy missile to have in the pocket.

A year came when there was a great dispute about the location of the post office. It had been in the Brown block, several hundred feet above the Front street bridge and. "Wils" Lawrence was the postmaster.' It crossed the street to about opposite Center street, and I think that Mrs. Egbert was appointed. At any rate, the town be came divided into "upper " and "lower' and the feeling among the boys of the two sections became red hot. They did not come to blows, use clubs or throw stones, but they resorted to the leather pile back of Wilson's flynet factory and turned the leather strips into spool- shaped ammunition, and the fighting began.

There was a big battle one night at Front and Upper Market. I. was an upper ender recruit. Too small to throw the leather missiles back upon the lower enders, Frank Chamberlin assigned to me the import ant duty of picking up the spools that came from the invading force and keeping the defenders supplied with them. At last some one said: "They, (the lower enders) have stones in their spools." This brought the parents and elders on the scene and the battle was stopped.

For some reason or other, I was taken prisoner, not by the enemy, however, but by the upper enders, and I was locked in a portable bath house .on the river bank, close to the water. After enjoying these fortunes of war and reflecting upon the folly of combat for some time, Mrs. Moses Chamberlain unlocked the door and with expressions of great regret that I should be thus treated, released me. Thus ended the famous battle of Milton, but thereafter for a long while a feeling of rivalry, if not of enmity, existed between the two sections of the town, divided approximately by Center street. "- James P. Kohler

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