Stanley Twins From farm boys to renowned inventors

by Kenneth Smith

Kingfield, so named for Maine’s first governor, William King, sits beside 7-Mile Brook (later the Carrabassett River). This river drains the watershed created by some of Maine’s best-known scenic mountains — Abrams, Bigelow, and Sugarloaf. Neither Solomon nor Apphia Stanley could have imagined that on June 1, 1849, they would become proud parents of not one but two of the most creative men Maine ever produced, Francis E. and Freeland O. Stanley. Father Solomon built a grist mill and dam on the banks of the Carrabassett in Kingfield. The rich soil made for excellent farming, and the twins learned early the value of hard work.

Play for the twins consisted of making small devices with ideas and encouragement provided by their father. Solomon was a farmer, teacher, politician, small businessman, and violinist. A stream behind the farm provided water-power to operate the twins’ first project, a miniature water wheel. They geared it to convert the wheel’s circular to reciprocating action, powering all manner of contraptions.

In the summer of their eighth year, Freel climbed from bed at 4:30 am, driving the neighbor’s cows to pasture, and back to the barn at night. Francis pulled double chores on the family farm. At summer’s end, they shared a two-dollar gold piece, which Freeland promptly lost in a gravel pit.

Feeling a bit out-of-place in their rough, homespun clothes, Mom had promised to make them new school outfits if they bought the cloth. Deciding to enter the maple sugar business, they spent a winter making sap buckets. Needing a pan to boil the sap down, they approached the local storekeeper. He had just the ticket, but they did not have the $8.00 to buy the pan. One late winter afternoon, they spied a large mink frolicking near its riverbank den. Freel struck for home to collect an old smoothbore musket while Francis kept watch. He returned in time to shoot the mink. Hurrying to the village store, they traded the animal for the sap pan. Later the twins took the $25 syrup money they made, hiked the 40-mile round trip to Farmington, buying cloth for next year’s clothes.

The twins took life seriously but enjoyed practical jokes. It was impossible to tell them apart. Even their girlfriends had a problem, and the boys took full advantage.

Francis, the leader, wanted to be a lawyer. Not much older than his students, he taught school in Andover, Farmington, and Lisbon, eventually enrolling in Hebron Academy. Both twins attended Farmington Normal School. In the fall of 1873, at age 24, Freeland enrolled at Bowdoin. He lasted a year. College President General Joshua Chamberlain insisted all underclassmen take military science and drill. This caused a major revolt. Finally, in the spring of 1874, Joshua sent all dissidents home, which just about shut Bowdoin down.

Freeland didn’t recant and was one of the few who never went back. He became principal of Mechanic Falls High School. Here he met and married Jane Tileston. It was a 63-year commitment. After a short stay in Pennsylvania, Freeland returned to teach at Farmington Normal School. Poor health forced him to leave. He entered business designing and manufacturing drawing, drafting, and school supplies.

In 1876 Frank married Augusta Walker. They had two girls and a son. Frank’s dream of becoming a lawyer faded before his new interests. A gifted portrait artist, he developed and patented an airbrush technique. So many people commissioned him to do pastel portraits that he opened a studio in Augusta, becoming a commercial artist.

Sensing photography was the wave of the future, he left canvas for camera. At that time the wet-plate developing process required the subject to sit absolutely still for two minutes, or the picture would blur. In 1886 he joined with brother Freeland to form the Stanley Dry Plate Company. The process they invented revolutionized photography and attracted worldwide attention.

In 1890 the Lewiston operation was moved to Newton, Massachusetts, for access to supplies and markets. In 1904 they sold out to George Eastman of Eastman Kodak. Money worries ended, and their focus shifted to steam-powered, self-propelled carriages.

In 1885 in Germany, Daimler and Benz developed a successful gasoline engine of the type used in today cars. The twins decided they could build a superior vehicle. In one year they did.

First they dealt with two basic problems — enough steam to power the vehicle, and control of steam generation so fire tending could be ignored. They decreased boiler size to 14 inches in diameter. To reduce weight, copper was substituted for cast iron. The engine was two-cylinder with a two and onehalf inch bore and three-inch stroke. (cont. on page 20)

(cont. from page 19)

Ball bearings were used to cut friction. The engine was placed over and geared to the rear wheels, eliminating the troublesome chain drive. To obviate the need to stop every few miles to replenish water, a steam condenser was added. The roofless, four-passenger, two-seater body included compartments for fuel and water. The entire vehicle weighed only eight hundred pounds. The twins created not a locomotive on wheels, but a slick-looking car.

The first Stanley Steamer was completed in the summer of 1897 at their Newton factory. In 1900 they motored from Newton to Lewiston, over little more than cow paths. The Steamer averaged 18 m.p.h. and got 7 m.p.g. on kerosene fuel. This car later broke the land speed record, traveling 27 m.p.h.

By 1899 the Stanley brothers had made 210 Steamers using another innovation, standardized parts. Experts described the vehicle as the “Best Car in the World.” In 1904 Freeland and his wife tackled the Mt. Washington carriage road, demonstrating the Steamer’s traction and endurance. In two hours they had reached the summit, the first motor car to make the ascent.

The twins sold their patent to Locomobile Company for $250,000. However, they continued to make cars with important design modifications. Reduced sales forced Locomobile to sell the patent back at a huge loss. Next, the brothers formed the Stanley Motor

Carriage Company. In the face of fierce competition from over a hundred other U.S. companies who made steam cars, theirs was clearly superior.

In 1906 the Steamer took the Dewar Cup Race in Ormond Beach, Florida officially clocked at 128 m.p.h. and unofficially at 190 m.p.h. No one knows then or now just how fast the Steamers would go.

By 1910 automakers were using gasoline engines. Henry Ford’s assembly line concept buried the Stanleys, who could not keep manufacturing pace. The Steamer proved hard to start and slow to generate steam. Not stilted for long-distance travel, it had an open fire, and steam burns were sometimes a problem.

The most telling blow occurred when Francis, returning to Newton from Boothbay Harbor, was tragically killed on the Newburyport Turnpike. He topped a rise and, confronted by two hay wagons, swerved off the road, crashing into a tree. Freeland never recovered from Francis’ death. By 1925, after producing 10,960 cars, the business had failed. Freeland moved to Estes Park, Colorado, where he died in 1940.

Had Francis lived, what might the Stanleys have created? The steam car they did build was the finest of its kind. These Kingfield farm boys became two of the most successful inventors in American history.