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History
of the Mill
The mill was constructed in 1840 from wormy chestnut
wood where it
has operated as a gristmill
for over 150 years.
The
original wood water wheel was replaced in 1952 by a
27-foot, 10,000-pound steel wheel that was relocated
from Tennessee. The waterfall, fed from springs atop
Black Rock Mountain, cascades over one side of the
property, overlooking the picturesque and tranquil land
of Wolffork Valley.
Today, the mill has been renovated and converted to a
charming, romantic bed and breakfast. It offers lovely
views of the adjacent valley, the 3,300-foot elevation
of Rocky Knob Mountain, and the waterfall running down
from the northeast Georgia mountains. Located inside the
mill house or the separate guest house, each of the
inn's four guest quarters has a private bath and is
decorated with its own unique furnishings ranging from a
wrought iron bed, to brass beds and antiques, to rustic
wood furnishings.
Grist for the Mill:
We recently were visited by Floyd
Bingham and his sister Mary White who lived in the small
cottage next door during the mid 1940's. Their
family rented and worked at the mill. Floyd told
us many tales of growing up here and the one that was
most unique was about how the boys would go fishing...
...this whole area was different back
then, there was no road or pretty garden in front,
this was all sunk in and you drove through the stream
right here. Mr. Hopper owned the field yonder and
would graze cattle or raise crops depending on the
year. Well, anyway, Carl was in charge of
servicing the dam at the head of the falls and he could
regulate the water and all. I was about ten years
old and my brother Herbert a little older, but Mr. Carl
would help us to get the fishing done right quick.
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Actual millstone
from Sylvan Falls Mill. It measures six inches deep and
has a diameter of 24 inches. |
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We
would go into the cottage and get buckets and he would go
up to the dam and let the flood gates open for a short
time. All the water would come gushing down the
falls and fill up the first part of Mr. Hopper's
field. Well, then the water would be turned off, and
the field would drain out, and there would be all kinds of
eels and trout and brim flopping all over the place.
We would run with our buckets through the field picking
fish and eel as fast as we could. Then we could
clean them and cook them up for supper. That sure
was a sight to see, fish flopping and boys running around
catching them bare handed. I don't suppose
that you have been fishing that way yet here, but I sure
remember the fun it was. In 1948 we moved away, but
I came back in 1966 with my wife and family to show them
where I grew up. Now I am back again with my sister
and new girl... it really brings back memories to see the
old place, even though it has changed so much.
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