Conservative Middleborough

Middleborough has always been a conservative town. Its ban on public swearing in 2012 achieved fairly widespread notoriety, but was not the first action of its kind. One hundred years ago, in a similar act aimed at maintaining a semblance of decorum among its residents, Middleborough police were tasked with ensuring that the slits in women's skirts did not exceed what was considered proper - 15 inches to be exact. At the time, the action attracted the attention of Chicago's The Day Book  which published the following notice on January 19, 1914.

  How high may a slit skirt be slit?
   "Fifteen inches!"
   Such is the decree of those intelligent guardians of propriety, the police. Any longer breach in the skirt is considered a breach of the peace - at least in the puritanical minds of the good people of Middleboro, Mass.
   Chief of Police [Harry] Swift of more-than-moral Middleboro has shown that fifteen inches is the very ultimate maximum of leg that can be decently shown. And so he has turned loose on the streets the "slit-skirt censors" - a detachment of patrolmen armed with two-foot rules instead of clubs.
   But the rule is, in fact, unnecessary, for each censor has so delicate a sense of decency that he can tell at once, and infallibly, by the tingle of shame which passes over him that when he sees it, that a certain slit skirt is revealing a sixteenth of an inch more of limb than the first fifteen inches which alone can be gazed upon with perfect propriety.

It's not quite clear just how far the measure progressed or how long it lasted. The Boston Globe in February 1914 reported that the story had reached as far as the west coast where Chief Swift was the subject of at least one cartoon and news clipping.

Sources:
The Day Book (Chicago), January 19, 1914, p. 9.
Boston Globe, "Middleboro Fame Reaches the Pacific", February 8, 1914, p. 16.

Illustrations:
"See What's Here - A Slit-Skirt Censor" from The Day Book(Chicago), January 19, 1914, p. 9

Representative woman's walking suit from 1913 featuring a decorously-buttoned slitted skirt. Women in Middleborough showing an inappropriate amount of leg were subject to being cited for indecency.
 

Popcorn Selling Forbidden at the Middleborough Rotary, 1948

In 1948, the Middleborough Rotary was set upon by out of town pop corn vendors intent upon selling their snack to passing motorists.  Ultimately, opposition by local merchants to what they saw as unregulated competition resulted in the matter coming before the Board of Selectmen as recorded in the following item carried in the Brockton Enterprise on May 18.

The area about the traffic circle at Middleboro seems to be an attractive place for pop corn merchants.  They float in there by motor and start doing business.  Other local merchants along the line object.  And that brings the matter to the attention of the selectmen.  The latest caller appeared at the selectmen's meeting last night.  He was Romeo Duverger, 214 Centre street, Brockton.  He had been dispensing pop corn near the traffic circle Sunday when Middleboro police intervened.  He informed the board that while he had a State license, he was driven away from there by the police.  He claimed to have a permit from the owner of the land to use it.

It was stated that the State license covered peddling and the contention was that it did not cover a location, such as the traffic circle.  He said he was willing to take out any other kind of license which might be required.

Chairman [Manuel J.] Silvia informed him that two others had met difficulty in a similar enterprise at the same location earlier in the year.  Action was held up, pending more complete information on the regulations of such business.  The unanswered question was why this particular location in Middleboro seemed to be so popular to pop corn merchants.

Photograph by Steve Snodgrass, reprinted under a Creative Commons license.

Tom Sisson's Bay Collects Its Mail, 1907

While cars driving into buildings is a relatively rare phenomenon today, prior to automobiles incidences of horses entering buildings were even rarer. Consequently, when they happened, they typically received some sort of notice. When Thomas Sisson's bay walked into the Middleborough Post Office which was then housed in the Peirce Block at the Four Corners on September 7, 1907, it not surprisingly created a considerable stir. Fortunately, James H. Creedon documented the now humorous episode for posterity. Clearly amused by the entire affair, Creedon made much of the incident, revealing in the process not only his ability as a correspondent but his skill as a humorist.

Big Bay Walks Into Postoffice

Tom Sisson's Horse Makes Excitement in Middleboro

Thomas Sisson's big gray horse, hitched to a heavy truck, was left standing on the street in front of the Middleboro postoffice today at 11.30 a. m., and when it saw people going in and out of Uncle Sam's depot decided that there ought to be something inside of interest to the equine world. The big bay, without any intimation of its wish to look over the stamp bureau, straightaway marched across the sidewalk and up the three steps to the floor of the postoffice. Immediately there was excitement on the street and in the office. The oldest resident, the postmaster and his assistants, the town constable and the guardian of the Peirce fund averred that in all their lives they had never known a horse to have called in person for his mail. They insisted it was proper for horses to get their mail and souvenir postal cards, especially Tom Sisson's big bay, by rural free delivery.

The bay didn't take much notice of the excitement its appearance in the postoffice created. But before it could get to the stamp window or the general delivery pigeon hole, it was brought up short, not on all fours, exactly, but so surely that it wasn't permitted to conduct a personal interview with the salaried officials in the office. This interruption was due to the fact that the main entrance to the postoffice is a common every-day sort of single doorway. The big bay got mostly through, but when it came to the big truck there was trouble.

The front gig, neither at an angle of 42 degrees or headon would pass through the portal. The horse shifted, side-stepped and squirmed, but could not get the wagon inside the door. The wheels braced against the doorposts and squeaked in remonstrance at the big bay's efforts to do the postoffice circuit. Fearing that it might pull the front of the postoffice through the store and out into the backyard it gave up the struggle and rested. Then the populace appreciated the humor of the situation.

The horse didn't appreciate the humor of the situation now. The animal couldn't get in to find whether a letter had come from home with money in it or not; neither could it back out. The crowd got busy and finally the animal was unharnessed, and led into the vestibule. Strong men then rolled the big truck into the street. The bay blinked approvingly at these proceedings, and didn't offer a word of remonstrance, even when it was led quietly out of the door down the same three steps and back to the cart. The office suffered no material damage.

Illustration:

Farming in the West, 2 cents, Trans Mississippi Exposition Issue, United States Postal Service, 1898

While the more traditional way for horses to enter U. S. post offices was through appearing on stamps such as this 1898 issue commemorating farming in the west, in 1907 Thomas Sisson's bay walked into the Middleborough post office and created a considerable stir.

Source:Brockton Times, "Big Bay Walks Into Postoffice", September 7, 1907.

Mr. Patstone's Chickens Disturb the Neighborhood, 1941

Not all matters that historically have come before the Middleborough Board of Selectmen have proven weighty. In October, 1941, the Middleborough Selectmen, acting as the Board of Health, were called upon to address a nuisance complaint regarding roosters being kept on School Street, an issue which the correspondent from the Brockton Enterprise clearly found entertaining. The poor neighbors were slightly less amused.

Although none of the echoes reached the selectmen's meeting last night, the fact that roosters' crowed was a matter for consideration at the board's session. William Patstone, 28½ School Street, appeared before the board and opened the matter, and had proceeded well along in his discussion before the board informed him that the matter was not officially before them.

He told about a complaint which had been lodged against his roosters, evidently a flock rated by the neighbors with having great vocal powers. Mr. Patstone declared "there are others," meaning other roosters, with good heavy voices. He said the board of health had warned him that complaints and a petition with several signatures had been filed against his roosters. The selectmen, under the charter, are the board of health, but they had not heard about the roosters, so that matter evidently had gotten as far as their agent.

"Have you disposed of them?" queried a selectman. "No," Patstone replied, "but I moved them, and soon they will be no more, as with the holidays coming, I plan to eat them." He declared that others in the neighborhood had roosters living nearer to the folks who signed the complaint than do his crowers and that they had kept them longer than he had.

Selectman W. J. MacDougall, a past member of the grange, and a man who could qualify in judging the fine points of these barnyard alarm clocks, suggested that it might be a good thing to delegate Town Manager E. C. Peterson to make an early morning trip and listen to the roosters to determine the extent of the nuisance. But on second thought it was decided to let the selectmen do the investigating. No action was taken against the activities of the roosters, pending the investigation. Then again their death sentence by the axe may come first.

What is perhaps most surprising is the number of School Street residents still presumably keeping chickens at the time.

Illustration:
Rooster, photograph by travis warren123, November 29, 2009, reprinted under a Creative Commons license.

Source:
Brockton Enterprise, "A Bit of Axe-Swinging May Solve Problem of Middleboro Selectmen", October 21, 1941.

Joyriding, 1883

Joyriding is not just a phenomenon of the automobile age as the following snippet from the May 10, 1883, edition of the Plymouth Old Colony Memorial indicates.

A little two year old at Middleboro, being refused a ride, got into the team in the temporary absence of the driver, and started off for his jaunt, giving the driver quite a long stern chase to catch him.

Best to lock up the car keys (or unhitch the horses).

Source:
Old Colony Memorial, May 10, 1883, "County and Elsewhere", page 4.

Bananas

Though once regarded as a delicacy affordable only to the well-to-do, by the turn of the last century the humble banana was commonplace in Middleborough's fruit stands. So inexpensive and easily available had the fruit become, in fact, that it became the object of eating contests during the period.

Harry Raymond, a post office clerk, is regarded as the champion banana eater of Middleboro. On a wager Monday he disposed of a dozen in as many minutes. [July, 1903]

Apparently not to be outdone, Robert Lincoln, a shoe worker with the D. W. Field Company at Montello in Brockton a number of days later consumed 12 bananas in just 8 minutes prompting one local newspaper to write that "the new sport, banana eating, is growing in popularity."

Fortunately, the "sport" was a passing fad.

Illustration:

"Eat More Fruit", advertisement, 1920s

Sources:

Brockton Enterprise, "Middleboro's Banana Eater", July 22, 1903, and "Champion Banana Eater", July 25, 1903.

The Devil and the Dentist, 1872

Often, in the histories of Middle-
borough and Lakeville, historical personages are noted in passing with a quick sentence or brief notice before being passed over for the next topic. One such person was Dr. Charles W. Leach, a resident of Lakeville who practiced dentistry in Middleborough during the mid-19th century. The cursory notice in Romaine's History of the Town of Middleboro, Massachusetts never hints at the true tragedy of his life.

Leach first established his dental practice in Middleborough in 1853, coming from Boston, while in his twenties. At the time, the Namasket Gazette reported that "a recommendation from his former business place in Boston, ... represents him as skillful and ingenious in his profesion." In November, 1853, it was reported that Leach was "receiving calls from those in want of Dental operations, in such numbers that he feels encouraged in his determination to establish a permanent office here."

Leach ultimately took over the practice of Dr. J. T. Harris, a dentist and homeopathic physician, who kept an office over Levi P. Thatcher's jewelry store in Middleborough on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. By 1859, Leach was advertising a new office in the Doane and Shaw building on South Main Street, and he later removed next door, to the American Building, with offices above Miss Barrows' millinery store.

The establishment of a Middleborough practice allowed Leach to become a prominent professional man in the community. He took an active role in town organizations as a member of the Central Baptist Church and the Sons of Temperance. In 1859, he took part, alongside other local businesses, in the July 4th parade: "Then came the Dentist, Dr. C. W. Leach, on wheels, looking very attractive, and making one believe that it was nothing to have a tooth pulled. Did his patient think so?"

Regardless of what his patient thought, painless dentistry was a goal of Leach who pursued the latest developments in the field including the application of electricity in the extraction of teeth, and the use of nitrous oxide (laughing gas) which Leach advertised as "the best anaesthetic yet discovered....If you want to enjoy a half hour, visit Dr. C. W. Leach's Dentistry and have your Teeth Extracted under the influence of Nitrous Oxide."

On Christmas Day, 1860, Leach married Rebecca L. Jenney at Middleborough and by 1864, he was settled enough in his practice to purchase the large Job Peirce House on the corner of Main and Vaughan Streets in Lakeville where he made his home until 1872, and he was professionally successful enough to be able to hire an assistant, Edward S. Hathaway of Middleborough, during this same period. In late 1869 and early 1870, Leach was elected a Masonic officer as well as officer of the Assawampsett Division, No. 34, Sons of Temperance, and in February, 1870, extended his dental office "by an addition of two rooms and thus changes are continually surprising us."

Seemingly, Dr. Leach's future appeared bright, and he seems to have been both professionally and personally secure with a wife and four children: Charles W., Warren, John M. S. and Grace. This positive state of affairs continued until January, 1872, at which point the story is taken up by the Plymouth Old Colony Memorial under the headline, "Crazy Freaks of a Drunkard at Lakeville":

"Dr. Charles W. Leach, a well-known dentist residing at the Four Corners, Lakeville, a member of the Baptist church and of the Sons of Temperance, has been drinking very freely for a week, until on Friday he became perfectly crazed with alcohol. On that Friday afternoon Dr. Leach told his family to go away into a room by themselves and stay, for either the Lord or the Devil was coming to see him. He then took his eldest boy [Charles W. Leach, Jr.], a bright little fellow about ten years old, into the front room, where he had a double-barrelled shotgun and a stock of ammunition. The doctor then stationed himself by an open window, where he lay in wait for victims."

Leach ultimately shot and wounded Thomas Bump, who boarded in his house, and neighbors John Capeless, William Coombs and Daniel Swift. Eventually, Bump, Coombs, Swift and Andrew M. Shockley were able to overwhelm and capture Leach. "During all this time the doctor's little boy was forced to hand the powder and shot to his father, who threatened to kill him if he did not do it."

Leach was held overnight at Middleborough, where the following morning Judge of Probate William H. Wood ordered his committal to the Taunton Lunatic Asylum, Doctors William W. Comstock and Ebenezer W. Drake signing the certificate stating that Leach was insane through the use of alcohol.

Characteristically, naysayers appeared immediately following the incident to denounce the previously unassailable Leach. "Although a good dentist, he is said to be a man of considerable temper, mixed with not a little cruelty, and hard stories are told of his treatment of his family", sniped one local newspaper.

Committal to the Taunton Lunatic Asylum (as then not yet euphemistically known as the "State Hospital") must certainly have been a grim experience. Opened in April, 1854, with accommodations for 250 patients, by 1872, the asylum was noted for overcrowding and increasingly deplorable conditions. It was reported that upon entering the institution, Leach "settled into a dumb, stupid state, taking no notice of anything nor any person. Does not care to leave his room, read books or papers, go to bed or get up. Those who have doubted Dr. Godding's statements as to his mental condition should call at the asylum."

Meanwhile, legal proceedings were taken. William H. Wood was appointed guardian of Leach, and Leach's victims sought to settle their claims for damages, "but the friends of the assailant decline to compromise." Leach's one-time assistant, Edward S. Hathaway, by this time a full-fledged dentist in his own right, assumed Leach's practice.

In March, 1873, Leach came near to being released from the asylum, "but at the time for his leave-taking approached he became violent again" and his release was not approved. Ultimately, Leach was released in early January, 1875. "Dr. Charles W. Leach was discharged from Taunton Asylum last week by the board of trustees, and taken by his friends to Sunderland", Massachusetts. Little is known of the later history of Dr. Leach or his family, it having been obscured by the stigma which attached itself to the tragic incident at the time, itself a reflection of society's equally tragic misunderstanding of the causes and treatment of mental illness. At Sunderland Leach initially engaged in farming, residing with his wife and four children, though in time, he appears to have returned to dentistry. In June, 1900 (his wife having died in the meantime), he was residing with his sister and brother-in-law at Sunderland, and was listed as a dentist.

Illustrations:

"C. W. Leach, Dental Surgeon", advertisement, Namasket Gazette, May 15, 1858.

"Laughing Gas.", advertisement, Middleboro Gazette, May 28, 1864, page 4.

"Charles W. Leach, Dental Surgeon", advertisement, Middleboro Gazette,

Sources:

Middleboro Gazette, June 18, 1859; July 9, 1859; July 16, 1864; "What the Gazette Was Saying Fifty Years Ago", January 9, 1920; ibid., February 27, 1920; ibid., April 30, 1920; ibid., October 15, 1920; ibid., January 27, 1922, p. 5; ibid., February 17, 1922, p. 5; ibid., March 17, 1922, p. 6; ibid., March 31, 1922, p. 5; ibid., April 14, 1922, p. 6; ibid., April 28, 1922, p. 6; ibid., August 4, 1922, p. 6; ibid., January 16, 1925

Nemasket Gazette, May 27, 1853; "Dental Surgeon", November 3, 1853; November 18, 1853

Old Colony Memorial, "Crazy Freaks of a Drunkard in Lakeville", January 25, 1872, p. 2; "The County &c.", April 18, 1872, p. 2; "The County and Elsewhere", August 8, 1872, p. 4; ibid., March 13, 1873, p. 4

Plymouth County Probate, Docket No. 12419a (adult guardianship of Charles W. Leach)

United States Federal Census, 1880, Sunderland, Massachusetts, Enumeration District 261, page 17, and 1900, Sunderland, Massachusetts, Enumeration District No. 498, page 97.

Hunting Stork in East Middleborough, 1915

One of the most unusual objects of a hunt ever in Middleborough was a stork. Not the endearing stork of nursery rhymes and children’s books, the large stork captured in Middleborough in 1915 was an adjutant stork, known for both its large size and an appearance most found, in a word, ugly.

The bird had escaped from the Franklin Park Zoo in Boston on Sunday, October 10, 1915. At the time of the bird’s escape, the zoo included what was then the world’s largest “flying cage”, an ironwork aviary nearly 200 feet long and 56 feet high in which were located eagles, a crane and other specimens. In addition, there was a bird house.

Among the zoo’s original specimens when it opened to the public in 1914 was an adjutant stork, no doubt the very same one which escaped to Middleborough the following year. At the time of the zoo’s preparations for opening, a writer for the Boston Globe described the adjutant as a “’horrid bird.’ Its eye is ‘large, full of intelligence, and it has an expression of utter cynicism.’” Others were equally unkind. English author Eden Phillpotts in 1901 termed the adjutant stork “a piteous comic object that made even the professional attendants laugh as they passed”. The bird was cloaked in dark feathers which covered a white body which stood on two chalky spindle-like legs. Most unattractive of all was the bird's large head and neck which resembled that of a vulture, being pink and unfeathered. From its neck hung a reddish pink pouch used in respiration which failed to enhance its attractiveness. Yet despite the bird's generally perceived lack of beauty, in flight it was both a graceful and powerful creature.

The Franklin Park Zoo appears to have had some misfortune with its avian specimens, losing four flamingoes and two German storks in its first years. Years later, the zoo would own another adjutant stork known as “Harry” which perished in a fire in 1997 and was said to have been 25 years old. It was not reported in the Middleborough press at the time of the 1915 escape how such a large creature as a stork was able to escape the confines of the zoo, but it did, flying south from the city, adding to the zoo's flock of woes.

It eventually alighted in the Great Cedar Swamp between East Middleborough and South Halifax. The swamp would have made an ideal habitat for the bird. At the time, the swamp still remained environmentally unaltered and was the largest expanse of wetland in eastern Massachusetts.

Apparently the stork went unobserved for a number of days. Gilbert Thompson of Halifax is reported to have spotted the bird on Wednesday, October 20. On the following day, Thompson “chased it a number of miles” when he encountered Herbert A. Pratt and Clarence S. Shaw, both of Middleborough who were out “gunning”. Upon encountering Thompson and hearing his tale, the two men joined Thompson in the hunt, locating the bird in a section of the Great Cedar Swamp which had recently been logged off.

The bird arose and they fired, hoping to break a wing, which they did and it came to earth. Then ensued quite a battle.

A second report fails to mention that the men had shot the bird, noting that they had surrounded “the stork and were a few feet from it when the frightened bird gave a spring, alighting at least 150 feet away. After maneuvering about for nearly an hour the hunters finally cornered the bird….”

The stork put up a formidable struggle. Later, it was reported that the bird stood between six and seven feet tall, weighed over 80 pounds and had a wingspan of some 18 feet. Though these figures appear somewhat exaggerated, the stork was still a large creature, which both wounded and frightened, presented an obvious danger in its unrestrained state to both itself and the men. Particularly fearsome was the bird’s bill which was remarkably thick and stated to be over two feet long.

The men attempted to hold the bird down by means of pine branches until its bill could be banded and its wings and legs tied.

Before Shaw could get a piece of rope about the huge bill the bird pecked Pratt’s dog, and if it had not been for the brass nameplate on the collar, the animal would have been killed.

Ultimately, the three men were able to restrain the bird which they brought to the home of Deputy Fish and Game Commissioner N. W. Pratt at Middleborough. The truly comic aspect of the entire episode was the report that Pratt “communicated with the Franklin park authorities and from his description they pronounced it the missing bird”, as if there were other loose adjutants for which the Franklin Park stork might have been mistaken.

Sadly, however, following a “short battle” to place the bird in a crate, the bird died from the experience. The following day, on October 22, zoo officials collected the remains.

Illustration:
"Zig Zag's at the Zoo", The Strand Magazine, 5:27, March, 1983,

Sources:
Brockton Times, “Boston’s Stork Caught, Unhurt”, October 22, 1915
Middleboro Gazette, “Local Gunners Capture Big Bird”, October 22, 1915
Phillpotts, Eden. Fancy Free (London : Methuen & Co., 1901), p. 156.
Remember Jamaica Plain? website, http://www.rememberjamaicaplain.blogspot.com/

To read about how adjutant storks were regarded a century and more ago, see Arthur Morrison and A. A. Shepherd, "Zig Zag's at the Zoo", The Strand Magazine, 5:27, March, 1983,

A Haunting at Muttock, 1902

In 1902, a "ghost" was reported to be if not quite terrorizing Muttock, certainly entertaining it. James Creedon, the Middleborough correspondent for the Brockton Times in late 1902 recorded the story for his employer's newspaper as well as posterity:

Veiled Ghost Leads Crowd a Hot Chase

Pelts Apples at Middleboro Posse, and Outlegs It Up and Down Hill and Into Darkness of Woods

The town is in the grasp of a decided sensation. It is said that there are ghosts operating here.

One night last week a young woman living in the northern part of town was accosted and chased by a figure robed in white, but she was not harmed. Several other people have been chased in the district on North street, between North Main and Oak streets. Another rendezvous is at the top of Muttock Hill.

Stories have circulated the last few days that there was a ghost in that neighborhood, but little credence was given to them. Most everyone thought some boys were out for fun. It now appears, however, that there is some foundation to the reports.

Saturday evening Ralph Caswell was down toward North street and was chased a considerable distance. Last night a crowd went to North street and saw this figure, robed in white, with a flowing veil on its head. It was in the orchard at the Crossen place. When it saw the fellows coming it threw apples at them and they gave chase. It led them the quickest they ever traveled, up and down hill and over a high fence into the woods. It escaped.

It is generally believed that it is some man dressed up to have some fun. The fun will turn if he gets in the way of those after him.

[Brockton Times, October 13, 1902]

Hunting the Ghost

Middleboro Party Not Rewarded by a Glimpse Last Night

The ghost is still the whole thing among the young and adventurous element of Middleboro. The young men say they are going to catch him. A crowd organized last evening, and shortly after 7 went to the scene of the ghost's hilarity. It broke up into parties of two and waited in the woods. The ghost did not show up. After waiting till about 10 the searching party gave up its job.

Whoever or whatever is making this trouble is sure to come to grief if it continues. The matter has gone almost far enough in the minds of many, and they are determined to know who is responsible.

This is not the first occasion of ghosts in the Muttock neighborhood, one of the residents says. On previous occasions there have been seen figures dressed all in black and traveling on all fours. At other times it was erect and dressed in white. It was not an animal, and what it can be, if not a man, is a question.

Although most of the people living in Muttock sincerely believe there is something prowling around in the garb of a ghost, they fear nothing, claiming that no harm will come from it. The searchers are determined, and will keep up their work until they find out who is playing ghost or until the disturbance stops.

[Brockton Times, October 14, 1902]

Muttock Ghost Wary

Middleboro Youths Are Out in Force, and Are Not Rewarded

After spending two nights in an unsuccessful attempt to locate the Muttock ghost, a band of young men started out again last evening, but the did not have better luck. There were two parties composed of youths from the center of town and others were from Everett street. The Everett street crowd started at the lower end of that street and the boys from the center entered the woods just behind the Crossen place [on North Street at the top of Nemasket Street]. They split into parties of two, each armed with a four-foot oak club, and prowled around the woods. After two and a half hours' search they went home unrewarded.

The clubs last evening supplanted the revolvers and hounds the searchers had Monday evening. When they got through hunting the ghost they could take home the precious pieces of wood and be assured of a few minutes' warm, cheerful fire.

The party from the center was passing through a yard on North street and was stopped by a woman who said the spook was out Monday evening, although it kept out of the way of the searchers. The residents of that section seem to be divided on the question of ghosts. One young man, Bert Amsden, says that as he was going home the other evening he saw a white thing out in the field. He fired four shots at it and his brother fired once. Apparently they hit something, as there was a scream and then the figure got away in pots haste.

Miss Lizzie Landgrebe, who lives near Amsden, discredits the statements regarding ghosts, and does not believe there is any such thing there. It was stated last week that she and her sister were chased. And she strenuously denied it.

The searchers last evening included: William Murray, William Scanlon, Bolles Dustin, John Harrington, Eugene McCarthy, Leo Allen, William Brawdrex, Barney Chandler, John Macomber, Samuel Osgood, Eugene Curley, Thomas McManus, Frank Elliott, Mark Snow and Ralph Caswell.

[Brockton Times, October 15, 1902]

Spook Takes a Rest

Middleboro Flurry Wanes While It Keeps Undercover

The ghost sensation is at a low ebb. The spook has not been seen for two days. Even though it has not been around lately, it is not thought it is out of business.

[Brockton Times, October 16, 1902]

The ghost, in fact, was "out of business". No further sighting of the figure, nor who was ultimately responsible for the diversion in 1902, was ever recorded.

Illustration:

Muttock, c. 1900, composite photograph, 2009.

During October, 1902, an apparition in white was seen by several witnesses about Muttock frequenting the wooded area about North and Everett Streets. While residents remained both skeptical of and unperturbed by the suggestion of spirits, they were unable to capture the perpetrator of the "ghostly" visits.

Muttock, photographic negative, late 19th century.

Sources:

Brockton Times, October 13-16, 1902

The Spirit Whistle, 1855

One of the earliest local ghost stories dates from 1855 and concerns the Middleboro' Steam Mill on Vine Street. Built in early 1855, the steam mill was a large four-story lumber mill which also produced boxes, nail kegs and building materials including lath, clapboards, shingles, doors, sash and blinds.

In late 1855, residents of Middleborough and Lakeville were disturbed by the late night sounding of the mill's steam whistle, the shriek of which carried far in the crisp winter air, awaking and alarming the immediate West Side neighborhood.

The people in the vicinity of the Steam Mill have repeatedly been startled from their slumbers, at the dead of night, by the shrieks of the steam whistle, and the owners of the mill have hastened to the spot to learn the cause, but ere they arrived, all was quiet and safe, the engine having apparently set up its whistle spontaneously.

On Christmas night, "a new aspect [was] given to this strange affair."

At 2 o'clock, the whistle began to offer its alarm in low murmers, which continued to grow louder and shriller, and fuller and deeper, till half past two, rousing from sleep, the inhabitants for miles around.

According to the tale, the whistle was sounded by an Irish-born worker who had lost the tip of his finger presumably while working one of the mill's saws. Some time later this same worker was accidentally killed while at work at the mill. Each evening the spirit of this worker was said to sound the mill whistle in hopes of summoning his fellow coworkers to help him in finding his missing finger tip.

The tale is founded upon the type of industrial accident unfortunately so common in the 19th and early 20th centuries which resulted in the permanent maiming of a worker. Not only were lumber mill workers subject to such dangers, but operatives in the local shoe manufactories, the Star Mill, the Bay State Straw Works, and other industrial employers were all recorded as having met with unfortunate accidents - some even fatal - during this period. It is no wonder, then, that such a tale would arise.

Illustration:

"Silent Whistle" by Leonard John Matthews, September 30, 2008. Adapted by Michael J. Maddigan under a Creative Commons license. Some rights reserved.

Source:

Namasket Gazette, "The Spirit Whistle", December 28, 1855, p. 2.

A Strange Creature, 1873

In early 1873, Middleborough caught its first glimpse of a most unusual creature - the octopus. Known at the time also as a devil fish, the octopus was only rarely seen and even more rarely captured. Although it is not known, it is likely that the octopus was shipped in late January to Professor John Whipple Potter Jenks, principal of Middleborough's Peirce Academy and a noted zoologist for examination.

The singular creature described by Victor Hugo in his Toilers of the Sea, has just appeared in Middleboro. Mr. C. R. Brainard, who has many rare and beautiful specimens of sea and land gathered in the South during the last season, has just received by express one of the identical creatures known as the octopod sea vampire, or devil fish. The monster grappled a diver in the waters of the coast of Georgia, and when the diver, more dead than alive, was brought to the surface, the fearful creature was captured. His open length or distance is over four feet.

Most likely local residents learning of the octopus' arrival were keen to see the "monster". Those unfamiliar with it had only to read Hugo's work for a vivid and enthralling description of the sea creature and its menacing form.

What, then, is the devil-fish? It is the sea vampire.

The swimmer who, attracted by the beauty of the spot, ventures among breakers in the open sea, where the still waters hide the splendours of the deep, or in the hollows of unfrequented rocks, in unknown caverns abounding in sea plants, testacea, and crustacean, under the deep portals of the ocean, runs the risk of meeting it. If that fate should be yours, be not curious, but fly. The intruder enters there dazzled; but quits the spot in terror.

This frightful apparition, which is always possible among the rocks in the open sea, is a grayish form which undulates in the water. It is of the thickness of a man’s arm, and in length nearly five feet. Its outline is ragged. Its form resembles an umbrella closed, and without handle. This irregular mass advances slowly towards you. Suddenly it opens, and eight radii issue abrubtly from around a face with two eyes. These radii are alive: their undulation is like lambent flames; they resemble, when opened, the spokes of a wheel, of four or five feet in diameter. A terrible expansion! It springs upon its prey.

The devil-fish harpoons its victim.

It winds around the sufferer, covering and entangling him in its long folds….

Its folds strangle, its contact paralyses.

Having read this passage, breathless Middleborough residents were no doubt grateful not to have encountered the octopus in its natural habitat.

Illustration:
"Octopus" by Victor Hugo, 1866, watercolor

Sources:
Hugo, Victor. Travailleurs de la mer [Toilers of the Sea]. Volume III. London: Sampson, Low, Son, & Marston, 1866., pp. 86-88

Old Colony Memorial, "County and Elsewhere", February 6, 1873, p. 5.

Flying Saucer Seen Over East Middleborough, 1950

"The first flying saucer in this area was reported Monday afternoon to the [Middleborough] police department by Mrs. William W. Kelley of Cedar street. Mrs. Kelley said her attention was attracted to the object in the sky when she heard a loud explosion. She said the object she saw was high in the air and appeared about 30 feet wide. She was positive that it was not an airplane. Mrs. Kelley reported to the police as she told the desk officer she was under the impression that she was supposed to report what she saw." [Brockton Enterprise, "Flying Saucer is Seen at Middleboro", May 9, 1950]

Illustration:
Donald Keyhoe, The Flying Saucers Are Real, cover illustration, 1950.
Flying saucers (and more broadly unidentified flying objects) were very much the focus of media attention at the time of Mrs. Kelley's report on May 8, 1950. Books such as Keyhoe's work as well as purportedly scientific studies fueled public speculation regarding the existence of such phenomena which in turn prompted reports like that made in Middleborough at the time. There was no later indication as to what Mrs. Kelley may actually have seen flying over East Middleborough in the spring of 1950.

Source:
Brockton Enterprise, "Flying Saucer is Seen at Middleboro", May 9, 1950.