A Patriotic Endeavor: Exploring Francis Lightfoot Lee’s Fulling Mill Operation

By Nora Kuhlman, Summer 2026 Research & Interpretation Intern

“JUST FINISHED, THE Nomony FULLING-MILL,” (Rind’s Virginia Gazette, September 14, 1769)

Francis Lightfoot Lee is best known as an early American patriot, famous for his political legacy as a member of the First Continental Congress and signer of the Declaration of Independence.[1] Yet, many are unaware of his economic contributions to the colonists’ fight for liberty. 

In September of 1769, Francis and his business partner, John Turberville, published newspaper articles in the Virginia Gazette advertising the opening of their newly finished fulling mill to the public.[2] Just a year later, they would go on to advertise this mill, named the Nomony Fulling Mill, as a means of resisting British tyranny.[3] But why was it patriotic to own a fulling mill? How might Francis's decision to operate a fulling mill with enslaved labor be viewed alongside his public embrace of the cause of liberty?

Diagram of a fulling mill. Courtesy of mylearning.org

Fulling mills were an integral part of the 18th century textile industry and were one of the final steps in textile production. Inside, freshly woven, wool cloth would be cleaned and pressed into a tighter fabric that could then be used to produce a finished cloth-based product, such as a shirt.[4] The Nomony Fulling Mill, located “at the head of the Nomony River” (today called the Nomini River) in Westmoreland County, Virginia, would have been used by local residents of the Northern Neck to fulfill their textile-making needs.[5]

John Turberville’s father, George, had purchased the future filling mill (at the time it was a grist mill) from the Asbury family in 1741.[6] He likely purchased the structure due to its close proximity to his home, Hickory Hill plantation. After his father’s death, John inherited the mill as he also inherited Hickory Hill.[7] From 1768 to 1769, John and Francis worked together to turn the old grist mill into a fulling mill.[8]

Locations of Hickory Hill and Nomini Hill. D

avid Eaton, Historical Atlas of Westmoreland County Virginia (Dietz Press, 1942), 70.

John was only three years younger than Francis and shared his political hopes of independence from Britain.[9] Together, they financed the running of the Nomony Fulling Mill, and in doing so, supported Virginia-made goods in opposition to British imports. In a 1768 letter to Richard Henry Lee, Francis’s brother, a man named Edmund Jennings wrote while in England, “your brother has given me cloth made in your family. I wear it on all occasions to show the politicians of this country that the sheep of America have not a hair on their backs–they can hardly believe their eyes.”[10]

In the 18th century, it was more economically efficient to import British textiles rather than to make them in the colonies. However, many colonists decided to no longer support the British economy after revolutionary sentiments had begun to spread. In the years leading up to the Revolutionary War, patriots across the continent began to make their own goods in protest.[11] Francis and his fulling mill were a part of this growing movement.

Underlined in red: “£40 to purchase…our fulling mill such as screw, or Press, Paste boards, shears & dyes”

Francis Lightfoot Lee to William Lee (July 1770)

In July of 1770, Francis wrote to his brother, William Lee, who was located in London at the time, requesting £40 worth of parts for his fulling mill.[12] Based on the items he requested, we can put together a more complete picture of how the mill was operated.

“WESTMORELAND, May 10, 1770. THE Nomony FULLING-MILL” (Rind’s Virginia Gazette, June 14, 1770)

One of the items that Francis ordered was a collection of dyes. Using a 1770 newspaper advertisement detailing the services offered by the mill, we know that it was possible for Francis’s customers to request to have their fabric dyed. If a customer wished to purchase cloth dyed “all shades of drab,” they would have had to pay two British pennies. “Other colors” cost four British pennies whereas “fine greens and blues” were “more costly.” 

In the same letter to William, Francis also purchased shears. Because of the 1770 newspaper ad, we know that the Nomony Fulling Mill did not offer to shear customers’ sheep but instead preferred to have the wool already woven. Instead, the ad offers an additional service of shearing the already-made cloth. This practice would have created a finer, more expensive product, allowing the mill to charge an additional two British pennies for the service. [13]

These advertised prices were relatively inexpensive for the time, making it possible for Francis to encourage other patriots, and even those not sympathetic to the cause, to purchase from his Virginia-based mill. These cheap prices, though, did not help to create a substantial profit. In fact, Francis admits in his original newspaper advertisement that “the profits of a fulling-mill [are] being by no means sufficient to support the expense of keeping accounts, and [is] collecting small debts.”[14] Francis’s dedication to the cause of liberty is evident as he stood to gain very little monetarily from this fulling mill. Instead, these princes were stated to “encourage [colonial-based] manufactures at this time, when the use of [the] British is utterly destructive of our liberty.”[15]

Mill stone from Mount Airy

Francis’s fight for liberty, however, did not extend to everyone. The existence of a fulling mill in Virginia was often facilitated by wealthy planter-class individuals, such as Francis, who could afford to pay for its operation and upkeep without making a profit. Their ability to do so, though, was afforded and made possible by an enslaved labor force. Francis’s father-in-law, John Tayloe II of the Mount Airy Plantation in Richmond County, Virginia, was another wealthy Virginian who owned a fulling mill during the period of time leading up to the Revolutionary War. Through Tayloe’s records, we know that his mill was operated by enslaved laborers, some of whom were enslaved fullers who manually cleaned the wool given to his fulling mill for processing as well as maintained the mill’s mechanical parts.[16] Although Francis’s records have been lost to time, we can infer that his fulling mill most likely would have been operated by enslaved persons as well.

“To be SOLD, at Loudon Courthouse, on Monday the 26th Instant (November) if fair, otherwise next fair Day,” (The Virginia Gazette, November 3, 1774)

Enslaved people, typically women, were also involved in the earlier steps of textile production. These women would have cleaned the wool once it had been sheared off of the sheep; carted, or combed, the wool to ensure its hairs were facing the same direction; fed the wool into a spinning wheel to create yarn; and finally would have weaved the yarn into cloth. Enslaved women who took part in these steps were known as spinners, seamstresses, and wavers and often became experts in their craft, sometimes being hired out to other plantations for their skills.[17] In November of 1774, John Turberville placed a newspaper article in the Virginia Gazette advertising the sale of multiple enslaved women who could “sew, wash, iron and spin.”[18] These women were likely forced to produce pieces of fabric that would have then been sent to the Nomony Fulling Mill for further processing.

Today, the Nomony Fulling Mill no longer exists. In 1819, after the deaths of both Francis and John, it was given to Major Robert Beale, the son-in-law of John’s brother George. To this day, the millpond that once powered the Nomony Fulling Mill is called Beale’s Millpond. The mill was converted sometime later into a saw mill and then again into a shingle mill until its last year in operation in 1937.[19] The land where it once sat is now overgrown and filled with trees.

 

Location of the former Nomony Fulling Mill in Westmoreland County, Virginia