The Early American: The Long Walk to Freedom: How Colonial Ropemakers Supplied a Revolution

The Thread That Held a Revolution Together

Colonial sailing ships use from four to forty miles of rope in their rigging, Image from; Pre-Revolutionary Ropemaking in the American Colonies, https://bkeithropemaker.com/

As we approach the 250th anniversary of American independence, it's worth pausing to consider a deceptively simple question: where did the rope come from? Not the metaphorical rope of revolutionary rhetoric or the hangman's noose that threatened traitors, but the actual miles upon miles of hemp cordage that held together every sailing vessel, hoisted every sail, moored every ship, and quite literally connected the scattered colonies into a functioning naval power capable of challenging the British Empire.

The answer reveals one of the untold stories of American independence—how a seemingly mundane industry, operating in long, narrow buildings that stretched across the colonial landscape like threads themselves, became strategically crucial to revolutionary success. When trade with England was cut off and the Continental Congress found itself trying to supply armies and navies with everything from muskets to medicinal supplies, American ropemakers faced an extraordinary challenge: could they produce enough cordage to keep American ships sailing and American forces supplied?

The Astonishing Appetite for Rope

To understand the magnitude of this challenge, consider a single ship: the USS Constitution, that magnificent frigate launched in 1797 and affectionately known as "Old Ironsides." A sailing frigate the size of Constitution required approximately 40 miles of cordage of varying diameters. Forty miles of rope—on just one vessel. More than 120,000 pounds of hemp fiber was needed to rig the 44-gun USS Constitution, and that figure doesn't even account for the additional hemp required for canvas sails and caulking materials.

Yet the Constitution was only one ship among hundreds that formed the Continental and later United States Navy, not to mention the countless privateers and merchant vessels that also depended on American independence for their operation. During the 1800s, sailing ships required miles and miles of rope, and during the Revolutionary period, when every vessel was needed to transport troops, supplies, and goods, the demand was virtually insatiable.

The stagger

ing scale becomes even clearer when we consider specific rope dimensions. The biggest ropes on USS Constitution were 3 inches in circumference (approximately 1 inch in diameter), while the anchor cables were 7 inches in diameter and made by twisting smaller ropes together. These weren't delicate threads but massive hawsers that could moor thousand-ton vessels in stormy harbors or tow disabled ships to safety. Each required enormous quantities of fiber, painstaking labor, and specialized facilities to manufacture.

The Ropewalk: Where Fiber Became Freedom

The manufacture of rope took place in specialized factories called ropewalks, often long, narrow buildings that had to be longer than the lengths of rope made there, stretching hundreds or even thousands of feet in a straight line. These remarkable structures were among the most distinctive industrial buildings in colonial America, their extreme length-to-width ratios making them instantly recognizable in any port town or manufacturing center.

The term "ropewalk" was literal in its origins. Early ropewalks were generally outdoors and were quite literally walks, or paths, where workers laid out and twisted rope. In the mid-1600s, ropemakers in the American colonies created outdoor spaces on straight and level ground where workers could walk backward for hundreds of feet while spinning and twisting fibers into cordage.

A group of Bostonians solicited English ropemaker John Harrison to establish a ropewalk in 1641 near where the South Station is today, marking the beginning of American rope manufacturing. The industry spread rapidly throughout the colonies as the crucial connection between hemp cultivation and maritime trade became apparent. By the Revolutionary period, ropewalks had evolved from open-air paths into substantial buildings, though their fundamental operating principle remained unchanged: the length of the ropewalk determined the longest rope that could be manufactured within it.

From Field to Fiber: The Hemp Connection

The raw material for all this rope came from an unlikely source—a plant that today carries controversial associations but which colonial Americans viewed simply as an essential agricultural commodity. Hemp arrived in Colonial America with the Puritans in the form of seed for planting and as fiber in the lines, sails and caulking of the Mayflower. The plant, cannabis sativa, wasn't cultivated for any psychoactive properties but rather for the extraordinarily strong fibers contained in its stalks.

Hemp, from the genus cannabis, can grow up to 16 feet in height and has been cultivated for nearly three millennia. The strong, durable fiber used to make cordage is located in the stalk of the plant. Hemp was the fiber of choice for maritime uses because of its natural decay resistance and its adaptability to cultivation—crucial characteristics when ropes had to withstand constant exposure to salt water, sun, and the tremendous mechanical stresses of controlling sails and anchoring ships.

British colonial policy had long recognized hemp's strategic importance. Britain's colonies were compelled by law to grow hemp. Ship captains were ordered to disseminate hemp seed widely to provide fiber wherever repairs might be needed in distant lands. Henry VIII (1491-1547) required farmers to plant 1/4 acre in hemp for every 36 acres under cultivation, establishing a pattern of government-mandated cultivation that would continue for centuries.

Oakum is made by picking apart old ropes. Oakum is used for caulking ships, sealing joints in pipes, closing spaces between masonry and wood framing, and packing horse hooves. Image from ; Pre-Revolutionary Ropemaking in the American Colonies, https://bkeithropemaker.com/

By the mid-1600s, hemp had become an important part of the economy in New England, and south to Maryland and Virginia. The Colonies produced cordage, cloth, canvas, sacks and paper from hemp during the years leading up to the Revolutionary War. The first crops of hemp were grown in Salem, Massachusetts in 1640 and taxes at the time could be paid with hemp, demonstrating the crop's accepted status as a form of currency in colonial economies.

The Art and Science of Ropemaking

The transformation of hemp stalks into usable cordage required both physical labor and technical sophistication. The process began in the fields, where hemp plants were harvested, the woody outer stalks separated from the valuable inner fibers through a laborious process called retting. These fibers, each about three feet long, then had to be combed or hackled—essentially brushed with metal combs until the fibers lay straight and parallel, ready for spinning.

In the ropewalk a spinner with hackled hemp wrapped around his waist twisted the fibers between thumb and fingers into a yarn that was spun into a thread. It was then fed to a spinning wheel run by another person, usually a child, as the spinner walked backward down the walk. This image—of workers walking backward down quarter-mile-long buildings while spinning fibers into thread—captures something essential about pre-industrial manufacturing: the intimate connection between human movement, mechanical process, and finished product.

The actual construction of rope involved multiple stages, each requiring careful control and precise technique. Most rope is of three or four strands and making it into rope is done by twisting one around the other. There are three parts: fiber, thread and strand. The individual plant fibers are twisted into thread, the threads are twisted into strands and the strands twisted into rope.

A rope's strength comes from the multiple and opposite twisting of its components: ropemakers twisted slivers clockwise to form yarns, then twisted yarns counter-clockwise to form strands. Finally, three strands were twisted together clockwise to form a typical rope. This twisting also prevented the rope from unravelling. This alternating direction of twist—clockwise, then counter-clockwise, then clockwise again—created internal tensions that held the rope together while also making it resistant to unwinding under load.

The process required both strength and precision. Fibers were twisted clockwise into yarns and then coiled onto bobbins. Workers brought these bobbins of yarn to the first floor and placed them on an upright rack at one end of the Ropewalk. Then, workers tied together yarns from multiple bobbins to a twisting device on a moveable cart. As this cart moved on a track down the length of the Ropewalk, it pulled the yarns from the bobbins and twisted the yarns into a single strand.

The Hazards of Hemp: Fire and Ropewalks

The ropewalk industry operated under constant threat of catastrophic fire. Hemp fibers created clouds of dust that hung in the air of ropewalk buildings, while the pine tar used to waterproof finished rope required heating to liquid form. A great danger in ropemaking was fire because of the prevalence of hemp fibers and dust and the hot tar used to waterproof the rope.

On July 30th, a fire began in Edward Howe's ropewalk consuming it and five others, culminating in ninety-six buildings being lost altogether. The fire caught in the Rope Walk of Mr. Howe, by an accident in heating some tar, and before the Inhabitants could be alarmed and assembled, it had gained so great a head as to render abortive all attempts to secure, from the flames, any of those elegant and valuable Rope Walk. Hot North Carolina tar, flammable fibers and wooden buildings were a volatile mix.

These recurring disasters demonstrated the tremendous economic stakes involved in rope manufacturing—a single fire could destroy businesses that had taken years to establish, wiping out not just buildings and equipment but also the accumulated expertise of skilled ropemakers who represented generations of craft knowledge.

Imperial Restrictions and Revolutionary Necessity

As tensions between Britain and her American colonies escalated during the 1760s and 1770s, rope manufacturing became entangled in the larger conflicts over colonial economic autonomy. While British policy had long encouraged hemp cultivation in the colonies (viewing it as a way to reduce dependence on Russian hemp imports), Parliament was far less enthusiastic about allowing colonists to develop their own rope manufacturing capacity that might compete with English ropewalks.

This imperial ambivalence created frustrating contradictions for colonial entrepreneurs. They were required to grow hemp but discouraged from processing it into finished goods. They could export raw fiber to Britain but found it difficult to obtain the equipment and supplies needed for large-scale rope manufacturing in the colonies. These restrictions, like the better-known prohibitions on American iron production and textile manufacturing, reflected Britain's mercantilist vision of colonies as sources of raw materials and markets for finished goods rather than as autonomous economic entities.

When the Revolution finally came and trade with Britain was severed, these restrictions created immediate crises. The military wanted tin items, because they were inexpensive, lightweight, and durable. The tinware the American navy and army needed wasn't easy to get. Until the war, most tin items came from England. Relatively few tinmen lived in the colonies, and supplies of raw material were limited by the British blockade. The same dynamic applied to rope—suddenly, American forces needed vast quantities of cordage but faced severe limitations in manufacturing capacity and raw material supplies.

Colonial ropemakers rose to meet this challenge through a combination of innovation, improvisation, and sheer determination. They expanded existing ropewalks, built new facilities, and developed techniques for working with whatever materials they could obtain. Some colonial governments offered bounties for hemp production, while revolutionary committees organized campaigns to increase cultivation. The privateers who preyed on British shipping also provided crucial supplies by capturing vessels laden with cordage and sailcloth.

The Human Drama of the Ropewalk

The work of rope manufacturing was physically demanding and required years of training to master. Young men typically entered the trade through apprenticeships, spending four to six years learning the craft under master ropemakers. They started with simple tasks—cleaning tools, organizing materials, maintaining equipment—and gradually progressed to more skilled work as they developed the strength, coordination, and judgment needed for quality rope production.

Workers walked the length of a ropewalk as they twisted plant fibers into rope by hand, a process that required both endurance and technique. A spinner might walk backward down a quarter-mile building dozens of times each day, maintaining consistent tension and twist while avoiding the many hazards of the working environment. The work built distinctive muscle development and created characteristic occupational injuries—ropemakers' hands became calloused and scarred from handling rough fibers, while their backs and legs ached from the constant walking.

Yet for all its physical demands, ropemaking also offered opportunities for skilled workers to achieve economic independence and social respect. A master ropemaker who established his own ropewalk could become a substantial figure in his community, employing dozens of workers and supplying rope to merchants, shipbuilders, and naval contractors. The strategic importance of rope during the Revolutionary period enhanced the status of ropemakers, who found themselves contributing directly to the war effort through their craft.

The Charlestown Legacy: America's Great Ropewalk

The story of American rope manufacturing reached its culmination in the construction of the Charlestown Navy Yard Ropewalk, which would become the greatest rope manufacturing facility in the United States and a symbol of American industrial achievement. In 1833, the Navy persuaded the US Congress on the practicality of a single ropewalk supplying all the Navy's rope, reflecting recognition that naval rope requirements demanded specialized facilities operating at unprecedented scale.

The Navy asked architect Alexander Parris and machinist Daniel Treadwell to design and outfit the Charlestown Navy Yard Ropewalk. Based on their plans, the US Navy constructed the Ropewalk building: a quarter-mile long, one-and-two story granite building with a slate roof. The length of the Ropewalk equaled the height of the Empire State Building. The Ropewalk is 45 feet wide with walls that are two-feet thick. The thick walls made this Greek-Revival structure both formidable and fireproof.

Opened in 1838, the Navy Yard Ropewalk followed what is now Chelsea Street for 1325 feet, allowing workers to produce rope up to a quarter mile in length. The building's construction from granite reflected lessons learned from the countless ropewalk fires that had plagued the industry—this facility would be as fireproof as 19th-century technology could achieve.

By the time the Navy decided to make its own rope, ropewalks were enclosed buildings, and steam engines mechanized many ropemaking tasks. Initially steam-powered, the facility made use of a number of innovations designed by local inventor Daniel Treadwell, transforming rope manufacturing from a primarily manual craft into a mechanized industrial process.

Wartime Production and Women Workers

The Charlestown Ropewalk proved its worth during times of national crisis, dramatically increasing production to meet military demands. The Ropewalk experienced its highest level of productivity during World War II (WWII). In 1942, the workers in the Ropewalk made 20 million pounds of rope. Even after the transition from sail to steam in the later half of the 1800s, ships still required miles of rope. A World War II battleship needed 34,000 feet of cordage and the Charlestown Navy Yard rapidly increased production after Pearl Harbor to its highest levels during World War II.

Perhaps most remarkably, the wartime production surge created unprecedented opportunities for women in rope manufacturing. As Navy Yard workers entered the armed forces in WWII, the Navy hired women to take their place in the Charlestown Navy Yard. While women became 17% of the Yard's workforce, the proportion of women ropemakers was much higher (44%). This dramatic shift demonstrated that the supposedly demanding physical work of rope manufacturing could be successfully performed by workers regardless of gender—a lesson that would contribute to broader changes in industrial employment patterns during and after the war.

The End of an Era

The Navy Yard Ropewalk made rope for the US Navy from 1837 to 1971, spanning 134 years of American naval history from the age of sail through two world wars and into the era of nuclear-powered vessels. Yet by the 1950s, the facility's future had become uncertain as Congress questioned whether the government should continue operating industrial facilities that competed with private industry.

In 1953, Congress launched an investigation and considered the Charlestown Navy Yard Ropewalk for closure. Many, including master ropemaker David Himmelfarb, argued to Congress that the Ropewalk served a number of purposes from ropemaking to rope testing and development of new types of rope. It was perhaps these other uses that kept the Ropewalk in operation until 1970.

The Ropewalk's survival through the 1950s and 1960s reflected its evolution from pure manufacturing facility to research center. The Charlestown Navy Yard was the center for considerable research into treated natural rope and nylon rope in the 1950s and 60s. After 1962, only nylon rope was produced, marking the complete transition from natural hemp fibers to synthetic materials.

When the Ropewalk finally closed in December 1971, it marked the end of an industrial tradition that stretched back to the earliest days of European settlement in North America. Yet the building itself survived, becoming a National Historic Landmark and serving as a tangible reminder of the crucial role that rope manufacturing had played in American maritime history and industrial development.

Legacy: The Thread That Runs Through History

The story of colonial ropewalks and Revolutionary-era rope manufacturing illuminates broader themes about American development, technological change, and the relationship between mundane industries and grand historical transformations. The rope that held together sailing vessels also held together networks of trade, connected scattered military forces, and quite literally suspended the physical infrastructure of maritime commerce.

Those long, narrow buildings where workers walked backward while spinning hemp fibers represented more than just industrial facilities—they embodied a distinctively American approach to solving practical problems through a combination of traditional craft knowledge and innovative adaptation. When British restrictions threatened to limit colonial rope production, American ropemakers found ways to expand capacity and maintain supply. When war created unprecedented demands, the industry responded through increased cultivation, expanded facilities, and improved production techniques.

The workers who spent their days walking the length of ropewalks, hands calloused from handling rough hemp fibers, were participating in one of the essential activities that made American independence possible. Every rope they produced helped equip another vessel, supply another military unit, or facilitate another commercial transaction that built the economic foundation for the new nation. Their craft may have lacked the dramatic appeal of blacksmithing or the refined elegance of cabinetmaking, but its strategic importance was undeniable.

As we commemorate 250 years of American independence, perhaps it's worth remembering that revolutions require not just inspiring speeches and battlefield heroics but also vast quantities of mundane materials produced through patient, skilled labor in specialized facilities. The ropewalks of colonial America, stretching their quarter-mile lengths across the landscape, remind us that freedom was spun from hemp fibers and twisted into reality by workers whose names we've mostly forgotten but whose contributions were absolutely essential to the creation and survival of the new nation.

Citations and Sources

USS Constitution Rope Requirements: