A Forgotten Industrial Disaster: The Mt. Hickory Rolling Mill Fire

Author’s Note: My late uncle, Daniel Silverthorn, was an avid genealogist and historian. As his executor, when he died, I salvaged his papers, organized them, and catalogued them. Sometimes Uncle Dan was simply interested in a particular subject and would go down analog rabbit holes to learn more. This time, it was about a devastating industrial fire.

One of the documents in my uncle’s “Rolling Mill” research envelope was entitled, “The Mt. Hickory Iron Co.,” with an address label attached for Raymond Jewell, 320 Pittsburgh Avenue in Erie, PA. This article had been written in 1985 and donated to the Erie County Historical Society. It was part of Jewell’s memoir of his many years employed by AMSCO, a pioneering manufacturer of sterilizing equipment. An engineer, Jewell retired as a vice president of the company.

Raymond Jewell, working at Reed Manufacturing on West 8^th Street in Erie, PA, in his early career, was inspired to learn the story of the rolling mill that had been located just west of the Reed property. He gathered its history from his employer, The History of Erie County, Pennsylvania 1884, and various newspaper stories found on Erie County Library microfilm.

In his seven-page document, written at the age of 90, Jewell discusses the story of the Mt. Hickory Rolling Mill fire of 1883, which he had heard about from his father and others. He uncovered a fascinating story of the conflict between rule following and common sense. When my uncle read Jewell’s document, he did his own investigation, acquiring city planning drawings, survey drawings of the Rolling Mill site, land transfers, legal documents, mortgages and indentures, and more. Years later, I dug further with the help of digital resources available in 2026.

Jewell describes the Mt. Hickory Iron Company’s owner, William L. Scott (1828-1891), as one of the wealthiest men in the country at the time, on par with railroad and shipping tycoon Conelius Vanderbilt. As a young man, Scott worked for Erie industrialist Charles M. Reed, who made his fortune in shipping, banking, and railroads. William L. Scott became highly successful himself as a railroad executive, horse breeder, and member of the U.S. House of Representatives.

History of the Rolling Mill

The 1884 history book says the Mt. Hickory Iron Company, a producer of merchant iron and bridge iron was founded in 1879 by William L. Scott, and the Mt. Hickory Rolling Mill, one of its facilities, was a 120-foot by 280-foot structure situated on 30 acres. The factory’s nine steam engines powered machines that passed iron ore through hardened steel rollers at high pressure to create sheets, strips, wires, and other shapes. It employed around 250 men, many of which lived in the 24 mill houses provided by the company. The facility was located where the Finish Thompson company now sits at 921 Greengarden Blvd. in Erie.

Jewell also consulted with his 1913 classmate, Vera List, who served as a trustee for the Scott and Strong estates. She was described by Ed Mathews of the Erie Times-News as having “a wealth of knowledge about old Erie history, particularly when it came to many of the old families of the city.”

While viewing 1800s newspapers on microfilm, Raymond Jewell learned that William Scott had been urged to build his rolling mill on city property where he would have the protection of the city’s police and fire services. Scott refused and said that he had his own police protection and would have enough resources to extinguish any fire.

A Devastating Fire for the Company and the Workers

On December 10, 1883, the Erie Morning Dispatch reported on a $200,000 fire at Mt. Hickory Rolling Mills facility. Because no fire alarms had sounded, very few people knew about it. The reason? Mt. Hickory was situated ½ mile west of the city limits and was ineligible for city fire services. This was before large parts of Millcreek, where the plant resided, was annexed by the City of Erie.

In the early morning hours of December 9th, an employee was alerted by the barking of a dog. “Mr. McDonald” observed flames shooting from the plant’s blacksmith shop and sounded an alarm to the mill hands residing in the company-provided cottages. They could not access the company’s water source and hose because of the heat. The employees tried to pull down part of the building between the fire and the warehouse where $80,000 worth of finished iron was stored. They even tried to dam Cascade Creek, which ran on the property, so that the fire trucks would have plenty of water when they arrived. But the rigs weren’t coming.

Chain of Command Prevented Rescue

The Erie fire chief, J.A. Moser, refused to send his crews because of a rule forbidding his trucks beyond city limits without special permission. Pleas from company personnel and nearby citizens were denied. A desperate member of the Mt. Hickory firm offered to pay for any liabilities the fire department might incur, but he was refused.

Still, Moser went to Mayor Philip Baker’s house at Tenth and French Streets to see about special permission to render aid to the plant. The mayor was not at home, and his family members didn’t know when he’d be back. According to a 1936, Erie Times-News article, Baker was at the Maennerchor Club with three or four “cronies” playing cards.

Moser then raced to the home of John Sherwood, a member of the city’s fire committee. The Mt. Hickory general manager and son-in-law of William Scott, Charles Strong, and a messenger from the mill had also gone to Sherwood’s home. Sherwood ordered an engine and one hose cart to the site immediately. Unfortunately, by the time the two rigs made it there, it was too late. The plant, including the warehouse with the finished ore, was completely consumed by flames.

The Aftermath for Owner, Workers, and Fire Chief

The building losses ranged from $250,000 to $300,000 in addition to $150,000 in damages to machinery. In addition, foul play was suspected because a fire had also started in a plant location at a distance from the blacksmith shop. Later it was speculated that a union had set the fires because the mill was using non-union labor. The fire put more than 250 men out of work affecting the many women and children who relied on those workers.

A subsequent Erie Times-News article reported that Chief Moser had been criticized harshly for not sending help to Mt. Hickory, instead searching for 45 minutes to find someone who could give him permission to fight the fire. Some councilmen argued that he could begged for forgiveness afterward. Also, one offered that the rule against leaving the city limits referred to other towns, not a suburb of the City of Erie.

When interviewed about his decision, Chief Moser said, “We are bound by our orders. Orders are given to be obeyed, and my men dare not disobey. . . The public, by their representatives, made that order. Did they make it to be obeyed or not?” When asked if he would make an exception for the Almshouse, which also lay outside the city, Moser said he would not break the rule even for the old and infirm who lived there. “If I took the steamers to the Almshouse in such a case and there should happen to be a fire in the city while we were away, what would be said of me and the department?”

Five days after the fire, flames continued to light the Mt. Hickory Rolling Mill. Men who had been regular employees of the plant were now charged with the cleanup for half the wages they had previously been earning. Having been abruptly thrown out of work, they were probably happy to be making anything at all. Other employees had to leave town to find employment often leaving wives and children behind, who struggled to make ends meet in their absence.

The 1936 newspaper article referenced above recounted the reaction of the mill’s owner, William L. Scott, who was out of town at the time of the fire. When he was told of Moser’s decision not to respond to the fire without permission, he “expressed himself more forcibly than elegantly.” Scott swore never to rebuild the mill and kept that oath.

About Raymond Jewell:

Raymond Lawrence Jewell was born in 1895 in Erie. He served in the military as an electrician. Raymond married Lois Veda Collins, and they had three children, Richard, Kenneth, and Marjorie. Sadly, young Richard died at age six after being struck by an automobile in 1926. Raymond worked for Reed Manufacturing and then American Sterilizer (AMSCO), retiring as a vice-president in 1960 after 40 years of service. Vera died in 1977 and Raymond died in 1992. They are buried in Erie Cemetery.

About Daniel Silverthorn:

Daniel Stilwell Silverthorn was born in 1936, son of Burton Stilwell Silverthorn and Catherine Wäschle, a German immigrant. His siblings were Russell Joseph, Lee Burton, and Mary Ann. Daniel attended Cathedral Preparatory School and Gannon College. A brilliant student, he left Gannon after having difficulty passing his English classes, which he thought were worthless. Dan served in the United States Navy Reserve for eight years and worked at Zipp’s Erie Permastone, Anson Tools, and General Electric for many years. A confirmed bachelor, Dan never married and spent many years researching his family history and other interesting historical people and happenings. He was the uncle and godfather of Ann Silverthorn. He died in 2021 and is buried in Gate of Heaven Cemetery.

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