Hendey Machine Co.'s Historic Complex in Torrington

 

One warm day, J and I set off to explore an old mill he’d discovered some time ago. The place was hidden away and seemed ideal for the kind of photos we loved taking—rustic spaces with that raw, forgotten feel. We entered casually through the front, our cameras ready, aiming to capture as much as we could before moving on to the other buildings.

About 20 minutes into our shoot, J’s voice broke the silence. “There’s a white truck out front.” He’d spotted it from the second-floor window. I joined him, snapping a few more pictures along the way, trying to stay calm. We figured maybe it was someone stopping by briefly. But just as I was getting my last shot in, I saw movement at the entrance. A man stepped inside, chatting on the phone. Alarmed, J and I ducked behind a wall, hearts racing. Before we knew it, three more people had joined him—a second man, a woman, and a small dog.

We realized, with sinking dread, that it was the property owner, likely giving contractors a tour and getting an estimate on renovations. Their voices echoed through the vast space as they moved toward the back of the mill, and we could hear the contractors conversing in Spanish, calling out measurements and notes to the woman, who seemed to be recording everything.

J and I held our breath, crouching in a small, partitioned room with the door cracked just enough to see outside. For some reason, we couldn’t fully close it; it seemed stuck. We stayed low in the dim light, hoping they’d keep to the far end of the building. J motioned to make a quick exit, but I wasn’t sure. We’d have to pass them, and the timing wasn’t on our side.

The group’s voices soon grew louder, and we realized they were moving back toward the front—right where we were hiding. Hearts thumping and nerves on edge, we braced ourselves. They climbed the nearest staircase, footsteps heavy, and a flashlight beam briefly swept into our room. We ducked lower, hoping they wouldn’t notice. In a stroke of luck, they walked right past us, heading to the other end of the second floor. We stayed still, listening as they continued their tour, measuring and chatting with each other.

It was a close call, but we kept our cool.

As our legs grew numb from crouching, we finally had to stand up, easing the strain on our cramped knees. But before we could get comfortable, another contractor unexpectedly came up the stairs, forcing us back down into our hiding spots, knees protesting in agony. He walked past us, thankfully without noticing, and joined the rest of the crew at the far end of the floor.

Minutes stretched on, feeling like hours. The four of them eventually made their way back toward us, only to head upstairs, searching for a bathroom. It was excruciating, every second ticking by while we stayed hidden. Finally, we heard them moving back down, glass crunching beneath their feet, as they made their way toward the exit. Holding our breath, we waited until their voices faded completely.

Peering through the dusty, square-paned windows, we made sure the coast was clear. Then we slipped out of our hiding spot, sticking close to the wall as we moved toward the back of the building. J led us to a side door he’d spotted earlier. We crept through tall weeds, over rocks, and past bits of discarded junk, eventually emerging behind a row of white tractor-trailers lined up like a wall.

Relief hit us as the adrenaline began to wear off. We made it out, no handcuffs, no trouble—just a memory to tell later. Looking back, I was grateful we’d left that door slightly open. A closed door might have drawn them in, but an open door left nothing to wonder about. We got away, leaving behind what we now called the “Did Not Catch Me Mill”—a place soon to be bustling with the construction we barely escaped witnessing firsthand. Unfortunately, we never returned to see the other buildings, such as No. 3 & No. 4 Machine Shop and the No. 2 main building, while the foundry, powerhouse, pattern house, and core building were demolished some unknown time ago. 

The No.1 Machine Shop Building.

History

Henry John Hendey, founder of the Hendey Machine Company, was a London-born craftsman (1844-1906) whose early life was shaped by the rapid industrial growth of New England. His family emigrated to Waterbury, Connecticut, in 1848 and later settled in Wolcottville (now Torrington), just as the Naugatuck Valley Railroad was completed in 1849. This new rail connection transformed the once-isolated area into a hub for industry, linking its woolen mills and emerging brass industry to the broader New England market. The area quickly gained a reputation for metalwork and engineering, drawing skilled immigrants, including Henry and his family, who were eager to work and learn in this growing industrial community.

Henry received his early education in Torrington and trained as a toolmaker, eventually becoming a journeyman. In 1870, Henry founded Hendey Brothers, a custom machine tool company, with his brother Arthur, a skilled pattern maker and machinist from New Haven. They operated out of rented space on Lawton Street, crafting machinery by order, including a three-horsepower rotary engine and wood-turning lathes. But as their venture faced early challenges, Henry returned to his tool-making job, taking on extra hours to support their business ambitions. Despite these hurdles, he built a three-horsepower steam engine in his spare time, providing the essential power for a new workshop constructed on family land adjacent to their home. This modest backyard shed became the birthplace of what would soon become a major player in American industry.

By 1871, demand for their machines had outgrown the original workshop, prompting the construction of a larger, one-story production shed. By 1873, this, too, proved inadequate, and they built a two-story factory on the same site. Hendey’s reputation grew quickly, and its products expanded to include woodworking lathes, pin-making machines, and various other tools for local manufacturers. As the business flourished, the payroll grew, sometimes reaching 20 employees. 

In 1874, amid economic downturns and financial panic, the brothers incorporated the Hendey Machine Company, transitioning to a joint-stock structure to better support expansion. The new company adopted a unique approach, developing custom machines that allowed modifications based on clients’ needs—a key factor in their success. By the end of the decade, their workforce was growing by almost 20% annually, and the plant regularly underwent expansions to keep up with demand. This adaptive, customer-focused approach positioned the Hendey Machine Company as a significant innovator in machine tooling, shaping both the company’s legacy and the industrial landscape of Torrington.

In 1875, Hendey Machine Company introduced a significant innovation with its "friction-drive" shaper, featuring a patented mechanism created by Eli Manville. Alongside a range of planers, this shaper became a highlight in the industry, available in both hand- and power-driven models. The shaper's design won acclaim at popular trade exhibitions, helping solidify Hendey’s reputation for engineering excellence. A milestone came in 1878 when the U.S. Naval Board adopted Hendey’s friction shaper as the standard machine across its operations—a major endorsement that boosted both credibility and demand.

As sales rose, so did the size of Hendey’s factory. Between 1873 and 1880, the facility more than tripled in acreage. By 1884, the addition of a powerhouse and foundry allowed Hendey to manage both product design and crucial aspects of metallurgy in-house. This level of control became invaluable as the company grew, allowing Hendey to maintain quality and innovation while scaling up production.

The company's growth accelerated in the mid-1890s. A large three-story brick building was constructed to keep up with demand. By 1898, that building was duplicated, and the foundry was expanded to twice its size, integrating new powerhouse capabilities and modern electrical equipment.

Hendey’s reach was also expanding beyond the U.S., with machines shipped to Europe as early as the 1870s. Hendey lathes found markets in China, South Africa, Spain, and South America, where they became valuable tools in industries like mining and manufacturing. By the 1880s, the company shifted its focus from custom machines to a standardized line of shapers and lathes, which allowed for more efficient batch production.

In 1890, Hendey launched its high-speed engine lathe, a model that became central to the company’s catalog and reputation. This lathe, along with new offerings like gear-driven shapers, drills, and turret head chucking lathes, showcased Hendey’s knack for innovation. The high-speed engine lathe, in particular, evolved into a versatile "center" lathe, or "engine" lathe as it was called in the U.S. This model became Hendey’s flagship product, known worldwide for its reliability and precision, and it remained the foundation of Hendey’s success as the company entered the 20th century.

In 1892, the Hendey Machine Company acquired W.P. Norton’s groundbreaking quick-change screw-cutting gearbox. Traditionally, changing cutting speeds on a machine tool was a slow, hands-on task, as it required manual gear adjustments inside the machine’s gearbox. Norton’s invention simplified this process, enabling operators to change gear ratios swiftly without disassembling anything. Hendey acquired Norton’s patent that year, agreeing to pay him a royalty on each machine sold with his gearbox and appointing him as the company’s superintendent.

The Norton gearbox quickly made a name for itself, winning a gold medal at the 1892 Chicago Exposition. Although similar designs had been attempted before—Humphreys had patented a related concept in 1868—the Norton gearbox was the first to be commercially successful. This innovation strengthened Hendey’s reputation for reliable, operator-friendly machines.

The company continued to grow, exhibiting its machines at the 1900 Paris Exposition, where they received international acclaim. World War I brought even more demand, as Hendey’s plant operated around the clock to meet government contracts for munitions production. Though the Great Depression slowed production almost to a halt, Hendey revived its operations during World War II, reaching a peak workforce of over 1,000 employees.

In 1952, Hendey was sold for two million dollars to Frederick Richmond, a corporate raider who claimed he would expand the company. However, within two years, Richmond dismantled the business instead, selling off Hendey’s assets, including its product lines, land, and buildings. Barber Colman, a machine tool company in Rockford, Illinois, acquired Hendey’s lathe and shaper product line. By 1954, Hendey Machine Company closed its doors. The following year, Anaconda American Brass, owner of the nearby Coe Brass Division, purchased the remaining property and buildings, marking the end of Hendey’s legacy as an industry leader in machine tools.

Architecture

At its peak, the Hendey Machine Company complex in Torrington, Connecticut, spanned eighteen interconnected buildings constructed between the early 1890s and the 1940s. Although the first building on the site was put up in 1873, it was later demolished to make way for expansion. Today, the oldest surviving structure is the office building on Summer Street, dating back to around 1892.

Behind this office stands a three-story brick U-shaped loft with two prominent water towers, built incrementally in 1896, 1898, and 1902. Westward, additional concrete buildings—including one with a distinctive saw-tooth roof—were added in 1910. Further west, two more saw-tooth roofed buildings were constructed on the corner of High and Summer Streets in 1929.

While the original foundry and powerhouse were lost to a fire, the pattern shop remains on the southern end of the site. On the eastern side, closest to the railroad tracks, buildings completed by 1907 mark the complex’s boundary along that edge. This extensive site hosted Hendey’s machine tool production until the company’s closure in 1955, marking the end of an era for this once-thriving industrial hub.

Current News

Today, the historic Hendey Machine Company complex has found new life with a new tenant. Back in 2014, the Connecticut Department of Transportation (CT DOT) planned to acquire the site for the Northwestern Connecticut Transit District. The proposal included demolishing the buildings to make way for a 10,000-square-foot maintenance garage. However, those plans have yet to materialize, and the property remained in limbo.

The buildings have been repurposed recently, though the specific business now occupying the site is unclear. The transformation of the Hendey complex adds another layer to its storied past, marking yet another chapter in the site’s evolution—from a pioneer in American machine tool manufacturing to a piece of Connecticut's industrial heritage, adapted once again for modern use.

Sources:

1. (n.d.) (Hendey Machine Co.). Connecticut Mills.

2. Tony. (n.d.). (Hendey Machine Tools - History). Lathes UK.

3. (n.d.). (THE HENDEY MACHINE COMPANY 1870-1920)

4. .(1954l October 28,). (MACHINE LINE SOLD; Barber-Colman Co. to Produce Hendey Lathes, Shapers). NYTimes.

5. American Railroad Journal. (1922). United States: Simmons-Boardman Publishing Corporation. pp.246.

6. Western Machinery World. (1922). United States: Western Engineering Publishing Company. pp.16. 

7. Orcutt, S. (1878). History of Torrington, Connecticut: From Its First Settlement in 1737, with Biographies and Genealogies. United States: J. Munsell, printer. pp.110-111.

8. The Connecticut Magazine. (1905). United States: (n.p.). pp.131-132.

9. Hernandez, E. (2014, May 5). Connecticut looking to demolish Torrington’s former Hendey Machine Company building build bus maintenance garage. The Register Citizen. 

10. (1915) Sanborn Fire Insurance Map from Torrington, Litchfield County, Connecticut. Sanborn Map Company, Sep. [Map] Retrieved from the Library of Congress, https://www.loc.gov/item/sanborn01188_006/