Framingham Legends & Lore

by James L. Parr

  Map of the Chautauqua grounds at Lakeview, 1895.

  Beginning in mid-July, trains would arrive at the Lakeview station at the foot of Mount Wayte, depositing hundreds of families and individuals from across the country. Carriages would then transport the attendees to the campground for their Chautauqua experience. The sounding of the Chautauqua bells at the top of the hill would signal the start and the end of each day’s activities. While the main focus of the meetings was religious in nature, many cultural and educational lessons were offered during the ten-day sessions. Each week featured special theme days, such as Temperance Day, National Day, GAR (Grand Army of the Republic) Day and Children’s Day. Temperance lectures and workshops were a regular part of each year’s program. A four-year program of study was offered under the title of the Chautauqua Literary and Scientific Circle (CLSC). Graduation ceremonies for each CLSC class were held in the Hall of Philosophy, with participants marching under a colorful banner bearing their class year. A program from the 1898 assembly contains a variety of offerings including chorus training, concerts, prayers, roundtable discussions, classes in “Physical Culture and Elocution” and lectures on “The Indians, their Haunts and Homes with Glimpses from Prairie and Mountain,” “The Gold Mine and Miners of Nova Scotia” and temperance. While most of the instruction and lectures were given by local ministers and lecturers, several prominent speakers addressed the crowds at Lakeview over the years, including former president Rutherford B. Hayes in 1892 and African American educator Booker T. Washington in 1896.

  Ticket booth at Lakeview.

  Congregational Sunday school tent at Lakeview.

  Outdoor auditorium at Lakeview.

  Chautauquans boating on the Sudbury River.

  The presentation of such erudite lessons and activities needed an appropriate setting, and over the years the collection of quaint tents and cottages was transformed into a campus of grand halls and spacious auditoriums. The Greek-inspired Hall of Philosophy, dedicated in 1896 and modeled after the Parthenon, stood on the summit of Mount Wayte. An open-air auditorium could comfortably seat five thousand, with room for an additional five hundred people in an adjacent pavilion. Lectures and classes were conducted in the four-hundred-seat Normal Hall. Baptist, Congregational and Methodist social halls were available to those church members who wished to use them. Over one hundred cottages were nestled under the oaks and maples, bearing such nature-inspired names as Sunrise, Oak Dell and Twin Tree. Attendance at the annual meetings began to drop off in the twentieth century, and at the end of the 1917 assembly organizers were scrambling to sell tickets to the following year’s events. On November 11, 1918, Armistice Day, the bells at the top of Mount Wayte were rung for the last time, and the property was eventually sold off.

  After the sale of the property in 1918, the entire Mount Wayte area fell into disrepair. Many of the cottages burned down or were demolished, and all of the campus buildings were gone within a short time. Today a handful of cottages still stand on Mount Wayte Avenue, some still bearing their distinct Victorian gingerbread decorations. Similar cottages in Oak Bluffs on Martha’s Vineyard, also built as part of a Methodist campground, have been designated National Landmarks and a thriving Camp Meeting Association still holds annual summer encampments there. The Chautauqua Movement itself lives on in its birthplace in Chautauqua, New York, where modern pilgrims can still attend a ten-day program of arts, education, religion and recreation. The spirit of the Chautauqua Movement even spawned a short-lived Disney version of the assemblies. In the mid-1980s, then Disney CEO Michael Eisner, inspired by visits to the original Chautauqua near his wife’s home in upstate New York, began developing the Disney Institute at Walt Disney World in Florida. Starting in 1996, the Disney Institute offered educational and arts programs at a luxury hotel on the shores of a private lake within the Disney World compound in Orlando. But attendance at the institute never met expectations, and the program was phased out in 2001.

  THE “HOLY ROLLER RIOT” OF 1913

  Over the years, the Lakeview site had also been used by various other organizations, including the Salvation Army and the Odd Fellows. One particular group, the Pentecostal Disciples of the Latter Reign, arranged to lease the property for several weeks in 1913 for a camp meeting. The leader of the group was sixty-nine-year-old Madame Maria Woodworth Etter, a Pentecostal preacher and faith healer. Mrs. Etter had spent over thirty-five years traveling the country, holding meetings in tents with crowds of twenty thousand or more. Often, Mrs. Etter’s followers, after experiencing the healing power of God, would fall to the ground writhing and speaking in tongues, thus earning the nickname “Holy Rollers.”

  The Holy Rollers began their prayer meetings at Lakeview in early August. The meeting had been going on for several days when word spread throughout town that amazing healings and cures were taking place at Mount Wayte. Within no time crowds at the campground grew from two hundred to two thousand, and a near riot ensued. The Framingham Police arrived to break up the crowd and ended up arresting Mrs. Etter and several of her staff on the charge of obtaining money under false pretenses. After posting $300 in bail, Mrs. Etter appeared in the courtroom of Judge William Kingsbury, who would decide whether to pursue the charges against the faith healer.

  A parade of witnesses gave testimony for both sides, with many in support of the preacher. One woman who claimed to be a cousin to President William McKinley had traveled all the way from Pennsylvania in order to be healed and testified that Mrs. Etter had restored her ability to walk. Other witnesses claimed to be healed of drunkenness, deafness and muscular ailments. A blind eighteen-year-old Saxonville boy named Joseph Tuttle attended the meeting one night and took the stage in hopes of regaining his sight. Church ministers rubbed Tuttle’s forehead, eyes and legs while shouting, “Come out devil, come out!” and “Hallelujah!” When asked by the prosecutor what happened next, Tuttle replied, “Nothing special.” Other witnesses testified that Mrs. Etter had pleaded for money to cover travel expenses, and that her assistants had warned that anyone testifying against her would have the wrath of God come down upon them. Doctors for the prosecution believed that Mrs. Etter used hypnotism to lead her followers into believing that miracles had occurred. After four days of testimony, Judge Kingsbury dismissed all charges and the Holy Rollers left Framingham for good. Maria Woodworth Etter continued preaching until her death in 1924. Today she is regarded as an important voice in the Pentecostal movement of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, and many of her writings are still in print.

  FRAMINGHAM AT PLAY

  There were other ways of passing the time in Framingham that were perhaps less high-minded than the Chautauqua assemblies and Methodist meetings at Mount Wayte. Some pre–Civil War attractions soldiered on into the postwar era. Harmony Grove continued as a family-oriented destination for speeches and lectures as well as recreation, although Mount Wayte soon surpassed it in both size and appeal, and the Grove closed in 1877. Its once picturesque grounds were fully redeveloped into rail yards and housing lots by 1900.

  Agricultural fairs had always been a staple of entertainment in such a farm-rich town and continued to be so for many more decades. In 1868, the South Middlesex Agricultural Society moved its annual fair to a twenty-four-acre site on the Sudbury River in South Framingham. The event was held over two days each September after the harvest was taken in and was a local institution for nearly fifty years. Framingham was still primarily an agricultural town in the early twentieth century, and the livestock exhibitions and produce displays at the fair were always the main attractions. Horses, hogs, cattle, sheep and poultry were exhibited and judged in the large barns and stables. Prizewinning fruits and vegetables were displayed and sold. Farmers showcased their skills behind the plow in friendly but spirited competitions, and a greased pig chase with the winner taking home the pig was always a hit with the crowd.

  The fair also offered a variety of nonagricultural activities over the years, including bicycl
e and foot races, baseball games between local teams and dog shows. At times the fairgrounds resembled an old-time carnival, complete with sideshow attractions such as giant lizards and a skeleton man. Visitors in 1873 were treated to a balloon ascension by the amazing Professor King.

  The highlight of each year’s fair was the afternoon of horse racing on the half-mile track. From time to time, the races would feature a head-to-head match between horses owned by two of Framingham’s “country squires,” John Macomber and John Bowditch. Macomber owned a 220-acre estate called Raceland on Salem End Road, where he had his own race track installed in 1927 after the fairgrounds closed for good. Horse racing continued at the Macomber track until 1935, when parimutuel betting was legalized in Massachusetts.

  Macomber was the president of the Massachusetts Society for Prevention of Cruelty to Animals (MSPCA) for forty years, and along with his prized horses he kept show dogs, a donkey and even a monkey at the estate. After the horse racing ended, he continued to hold large events at the estate including Kennel Club shows, antique automobile rallies and the Millwood Hunt Club’s Annual Horse Show. In June 1950, Macomber hosted a celebration of the town’s 250th anniversary at Raceland. Twenty-five thousand guests attended a concert given by the Boston Pops under the direction of Arthur Fiedler. Upon Macomber’s death in 1955, the bulk of the property was left to the MSPCA, which operated an animal life center there from 1971 to 1984.

  The track at Raceland, the estate of John Macomber.

  John Bowditch was the son of E.F. Bowditch, who had begun the Millwood Hunt Club on his 660 acres in north Framingham in 1866. The elder Bowditch introduced English-style fox hunting to Framingham, with imported foxhounds tracking actual foxes across his vast property. The fox hunt continued off and on until about 1912. In 1922, John Bowditch revived the traditional fox hunt, but quickly switched over to the more humane drag hunt, in which hounds followed a scent laid down over the trails by a volunteer. For many years the club sponsored a horse show, and in 1966 it celebrated its 100th anniversary. But within three years the club had disbanded, a casualty of increased residential development in the northern part of town.

  Although the equine and agricultural spectacles that entertained generations of Framinghamites ended years ago, many of the venues at which they took place have been preserved as parkland or protected conservation areas. The Middlesex South Fairgrounds were transformed into the town’s Bowditch Field, complete with running track, football field and bleachers built by the Works Progress Administration during the Depression in the 1930s. A portion of the Macomber property along Salem End Road was developed into housing after the MSPCA closed down its operations in 1984, but the town acquired a parcel of 57 wooded acres that today is open to the public as the Macomber Conservation Land and Trails. The fields and forests that once echoed with the braying of hounds hot on the scent in the days of the Millwood Hunt are now host to leashed pooches and their owners strolling the paths of the 820-acre Callahan State Park.

  THE MARATHON COMES TO TOWN

  Since its inaugural run in 1897, the Boston Marathon has had several route changes over the twenty-six-mile course, but the path to victory has always taken runners down Route 135 through the heart of Framingham. The two-and-a-half-mile section of the course that runs through town is relatively flat and only three miles from the starting line, so it lacks the drama of Heartbreak Hill in Newton or the excitement of the finish line in Copley Square. But that does not stop the thousands of spectators who line Waverly Street every Patriots’ Day from enjoying the race. In 1907, one such crowd got more excitement than it anticipated when bystanders witnessed an event that affected the outcome of the race and has since become a part of Marathon lore.

  Marathon fans had been talking for weeks about the upcoming race, with special interest paid to Tom Longboat, a nineteen-year-old Canadian phenomenon. Longboat, a full-blooded Onondaga from Ontario, was picked by many to win the eleventh running of the prestigious event. Framingham fans looking for a thrilling race were not disappointed on that cold, snowy day when the first pack of about ten runners made its way down Route 135, with Tom Longboat sharing the lead. As the group approached the Waverly Street railroad crossing, a most unexpected and potentially dangerous thing happened—a freight train slowly rumbled down the tracks approaching the intersection. The lead group saw the train and put on a burst of speed, crossing the tracks just moments before the train passed by. The next pack of runners was not so lucky. They had to run in place for nearly a minute while the train lumbered across the road. When the route was finally clear, it was too late. None of the runners in the second group was able to make up the time and distance, and young Tom Longboat won in record time, becoming a Canadian national hero. Local runner Hank Fowler of Cambridge, who was one of the runners held up by the train, hinted that he may have done better than his second place finish had the train not interfered.

  CABBAGE NIGHT

  Long before trick-or-treating caught on as a Halloween tradition, the evening of October 31 was chiefly celebrated with pranks, mischief and fortunetelling. A Boston Globe article from 1907 describes large groups of rowdy teenage girls “throwing stones and tin cans against houses,” “screeching and yelling and disturbing sick people” and responding to requests to calm down with “hooting and blasphemy.” Years later, in the 1930s, harmless Halloween pranks had escalated to the point of outright vandalism not only in Framingham, but across the nation as well. Locally, hundreds of young vandals terrorized the streets, letting air out of tires, breaking streetlights, stealing street signs and ringing doorbells. The town responded in 1936 by holding a large Halloween party on the old fairgrounds. Hundreds of costumed children enjoyed a parade, contests and games, and for the first time in several years, police reports of vandalism decreased. The party was so successful it was moved to Nevins Hall in the Memorial Building and was an annual event for many years.

  Determined pranksters would not be stopped, however; they simply shifted their shenanigans to the night before Halloween, when police patrols were less frequent. The October 30 night of mayhem was called Cabbage Night in Framingham, and was similar to celebrations held in other parts of the country under names such as Mischief Night, Gate Night and Devil’s Night. Cabbage Night has its origins in an old Scottish tradition. All Hallow’s Eve had long been a night on which young ladies tried any number of fortunetelling techniques in order to learn more about their future spouses. Walking down the stairs backward while looking in a mirror, floating walnut shells in water and bobbing for apples were all surefire ways to get a glimpse into one’s romantic future. The close examination of a cabbage pulled right out of a neighbor’s patch could foretell the attributes of a potential husband. Once the cabbage had served its purpose, the only logical thing to do with it was to throw it against the neighbor’s door and run really fast, thus beginning a long tradition of Halloween pranks. Framingham teens observing Cabbage Night skipped the fortunetelling and stuck with the vegetable throwing, adding it to their already large repertoire of tricks. While other communities in the area observe the night before Halloween in similar fashion, Framingham is one of the few towns to attach the vegetable-themed moniker to the celebration. Perhaps the name choice was an unintended tribute to the town’s rich agricultural past.

  Chapter Seven

  FRAMINGHAM IN THE TWENTIETH CENTURY

  DENNISON MANUFACTURING AND R.H. LONG

  As the twentieth century dawned, South Framingham continued to prosper. It was where the newspapers were located, where most retail establishments opened their doors and where you could catch the train to Boston. There was a veritable building boom as large office blocks, schools, churches, the armory and banks were all built downtown.

  Most of all, it was where the manufacturing jobs were. The Dennison Manufacturing Company took over the moribund works of the Para-Rubber Company in 1897, located right along the rail lines. The maker of boxes, labels, tags, crepe paper and the like soon became the town�
�s largest employer and remained so until late in the twentieth century. As a result, Framingham earned the nickname “Tag Town.” The Dennison family moved to town and soon demonstrated that their public-minded ideals matched those of the Simpson family when they had ruled Saxonville. Dennison was run on progressive ideals as to workers’ rights, employee ownership and quality of work life. Henry Dennison became a national figure, especially during the New Deal years, with his innovative ideas as to how worker and capital could cooperate and profit together. In 1945, a delegation even proposed that Dennison’s estate off Edmands Road in north Framingham would be an ideal site for the headquarters of the newly formed United Nations, given Framingham’s excellent transportation facilities and relative proximity to both Boston and New York. It took only a moment for Dennison to picture what this would mean for his peaceful estate and convince the delegation never to raise the question again.

  Another large manufacturer was the R.H. Long Shoe Company. Richard Long prospered in the shoe trade, but he had other interests as well. He ran for governor of Massachusetts as a Democrat, only to lose soundly to future president Calvin Coolidge. (He did not even carry his hometown of Framingham, although he came closer than any other Democrat did in that era.) In the 1920s, he decided to jump into the automobile business back when any number of amateur mechanics started building their own cars in garages with hopes of making it big. Long’s Bay State automobile was undoubtedly a handsome vehicle, and several thousand were made before he pulled the plug on the operation in 1926.