Franklin Jr. Mine

It was almost two years ago now that we set out to find the Boston Mine along the shores of Boston Pond. (so these pictures are very old, bear with me here) The pond itself is man-made, built to serve the nearby Boston Stamp Mill built along her shores. The pond provided a constant supply of water for the mill as well as a convenient dumping ground for waste. Those tailings have since been covered with rock and topsoil, and the mill itself was reportedly burned down decades ago. But there are still remains of both the mill and the mine, if you look hard enough.

I’m not sure where the “Jr” moniker arose, but for the Franklin it represented a second generation in a mine that had fallen on hard times. By 1895 the Franklin’s Pewabic Lode shafts up on Quincy hill had been producing for nearly half a century – and were beginning to run dry. To make matters worse the Quincy Mine had managed to buy up almost every inch of land surrounding the old Franklin property, a move that had seriously hampered the old mine’s ability to drift and stope. In desperation the Franklin turned northward and bought up the defunct Peninsula properties at Boston (more commonly known as the Albany and Boston). This new acquisition became the Franklin Jr.

It was in 1860 that the small mining location of Boston was born along a swampy stretch of land several miles north of Hancock. The mine in question was the Albany and Boston, which had attempted to mine a stretch of the Allouez Conglomerate. The ill-fated endeavor managed to build itself a lake, stamp mill and town but very little else. A few years later a second mine – the Peninsula – gave it the old college try but it too managed very little. Finally in 1895 the property was sold yet again, this time to the struggling Franklin Mine which was in a choke hold by its omnipresent neighbor, the Quincy Mine. For a time it looked as if the Franklin would suffer the same fate as its predecessors, but it soon discovered what all the other mines had managed to miss – profitably. For the next twenty years the mine managed to eek out a living and keep the Franklin Mining Company clinging to life.

At the beginning the Franklin Jr. concentrated the majority of its efforts along a northern extension of the Pewabic Lode, which happened to run across the old Albany and Boston property. But what at first seemed promising quickly turned out to be anything but. In response the Franklin Jr. turned its attention several hundred feet to the east – back to the Albany and Boston’s original workings atop the Allouez conglomerate. It turned out to be a smart move.

The Franklin’s early mining efforts along the Albany and Boston property were a convoluted mess of failed starts and resets. In an almost desperate attempt to find suitable copper deposits to keep the company afloat, Franklin jumped back and forth between the two main lodes along the Boston property, as well as a few other smaller lodes and deposits scattered about. In the end the company managed to settle on the utilization of three main shafts, two along the old Albany and Boston Workings and a third at the north end of the Pewabic Lode. It was this third shaft – the No.3 – that we ended up stumbling across first as we ventured north of town.

While heading eastward towards that gleaming concrete tower in the distance were were first confronted with what we thought was just a pile of debris left at the center of what was a large poor rock pile. Turns out that pile of debris was in fact a ruin, more specifically a foundation to some type of steam equipment. Whatever it once belonged to, it appeared as if it was previously buried by the surrounding rock pile and uncovered when the pile was removed.

As we pushed onward towards that concrete stack beckoning us from the distance the sun was beginning to dip behind the tree line, stretching our shadows out across the rocky landscape and signaling our need to speed things up a bit. But before we could reach our destination we were confronted yet again with another detour – a rather substantial one this time. It was only after we had scrambled atop the remains of the Franklin Jr. No.1 rock pile that we noticed its impressive mass sprawled out before us. We recognized it immediately.

The No.1 surface plant consisted not only of the engine house but also a rather large boiler house as well. The No.1 boiler house accommodated four boilers, with plenty of available space to add more. The building also featured a line of inclosed coal bins, filled by means of an overhead trestle running through the buildings upper story. After leaving the ruins of the hoist behind, we found ourselves confronted with the remains of the boiler house sprawling out into the woods.

Standing 80 feet in the air, the concrete stack at the Franklin Jr. No.1 surface plant has become a Boston landmark, along with its brother across the street at the No.2. The two stacks stand tall over the swamplands surrounding Boston Pond and are the only reminders to the general public of the mines that once called this place home. It was always my goal to one day find them both on the ground and stand at their feet. Today I finally accomplished that goal as I looked up at the towering concrete monolith rising above my head.

After four years of exploring the Copper Country the moments where I find something that truly amazes me are starting to become scarce. Once you’ve seen a couple dozen rockhouse remains you’re not exactly excited by the 25th one. But in those waning moments of light at the Franklin Jr. it was a massive free-standing wall rising up through the trees that truly took my breath away – a rare event to be sure. But don’t just take my word for it, have a look for yourself…