Jolly Jane - Part 2

Jachin House and the Davis family
Victims of Jolly Jane

After the successful murder of Mrs. Mattie Davis Jane was invited to stay the rest of the summer at Jachin House to help care for Mattie’s husband Alden, who was obviously grieving. The couple’s two daughters, Genevieve Gordon of Chicago and Minnie Gibbs of Pocasset, also agreed to remain in Cataumet to look after their father. 

On the surface it all seemed to be a perfect plan. The sisters would have a trained nurse to help care for their father, and more, the nurse was already a close family friend. They did not know, however, that Jane was already planning their systematic destruction. 

In the weeks after Mattie’s death, the Jachin House suffered several strange fires. Although they did not cause a great deal of damage, they appeared to come out of no where. In her later confessions, Jane would admit the pleasure she took from sparking the flames, then rushing to help put them out. 

Jane’s first target after Mattie was her daughter Genevieve. Since Genevieve had traveled from Chicago to visit her family on Cape Cod, her husband had remained at home. Jane first began by planting doubts in the minds of Genevieve’s family, as to the stability of their loved one. Toppan insinuated that the younger girl was so isolated from her family in Chicago and was so devastated by her mother’s death that she was contemplating suicide. 

Less than a month after Mattie Davis’ death, her daughter Genevieve retired to bed early  one night with an upset stomach. Jane treated her patient with a dose of mineral water. Jane stayed with Genevieve throughout the night as the rest of the Davis family slept, secure in their knowledge that Genevieve was being cared for. However, on the morning of July 27 1901, Jane woke Minnie to inform her that her sister had died during the night.

The grave of Genevieve Davis - Cataumet Cemetery 2014

 The people of Cataumet were shocked at the losses being suffered by the Davis family. Of Genevieve, the local doctor explained her death as another heart attack. However, Jane whispered among family members that she was sure the woman had killed herself with insecticide from the shed. Jane attended another Davis family funeral, happy as a Cape Cod quahog. 

However, Jane was not done. Her next victim, Alden Davis, the patriarch of the family, fell ill in August of the same summer. Again, Jane treated the illness with a dose of mineral water. By the next morning the confused family found him dead. Unbelievably the same local doctor examined the body, saying that Mr. Davis died of a cerebral hemorrhage. 

The graves of Alden P and Mattie Davis - Cataumet Cemetery 2014

The final member of the Davis family was murdered by Jane only a few days later. Minnie Gibbs returned exhausted from a day trip to Woods Hole. Once again, Jane used her doctored mineral water to treat her patient and poison her victim. Soon after the treatment, Minnie collapsed into a coma. 

In her past, upon murdering her victims, Jane had crawled into bed with them. Cuddling with them as they breathed their last. During the night of August 13, however, Jane brought Minnie’s 10 year old son from his own room into hers while his mother lay dying a floor below. According to Harold Schechter, Jane admitted as much during her own confessions. Whether or not Jane molested the child is unknown. 

Minnie was discovered by family the next morning. Remarkably, she was still alive, though now comatose. The local doctor was called who, after consulting with Jane, diagnosed Minnie with extreme exhaustion. The doctor prescribed complete silence and rest for Minnie, who remained under the care of Toppan. He said he would return later to see if she had improved. However, during the doctor’s absence, Jane administered to Minnie a fatal enema of whiskey, water, and morphine. By the afternoon, she was dead. 

Davis Family Plot - Cataumet Cemetery 2014

Though several people seemed to suspect Jane had a hand in the death of the entire Davis family (who wouldn’t really?), she was able to escape yet again. This time Jane returned to Lowell to the home of the husband of her former foster sister, Oramel Brigham. 

Since murdering her foster sister Elizabeth, Jane had seemingly harbored fantasies about marrying her sister’s husband. Therefore, she must have been annoyed to arrive at Oramel’s home to find him entertaining another woman. Though the woman was his 70 year old sister, Jane apparently felt threatened enough to offer her a dose of mineral water when the elderly woman complained of dizziness. 

For years Oramel’s sister had suffered from heart problems. Therefore, when she slipped into a coma and died under Jane’s constant care one late August evening, the investigating doctor felt comfortable in diagnosing the death as a result of a heart attack. 

After the death of Oramel’s sister, Jane made a last ditch effort to win the affections of her former brother-in-law. Toppan first began by taking it upon herself to manage the household affairs. However, Oramel was adamant that Jane would not be making her stay permanent. Next, she poisoned Oramel himself. Giving him enough poison that she would be required to nurse him back to health. Yet, once on his feet, he expressed his wishes that Jane should leave his home. 

Finally, Toppan poisoned herself, nearly killing herself in the process. Oramel was forced to hire a doctor and a nurse to tend Jane and to make sure she no longer attempted to take her own life. Despite all of her best romantic efforts, when Jane had fully recovered, Oramel demanded that she leave.

Jane fled to a friend’s house in New Hampshire, where she spent the rest of September of 1901. Little did she know it would be her last few weeks as a free woman. The machine of justice had been set in motion months before, when she had been making her perceived clean getaway from her crime spree on Cape Cod. 

It had finally been the father-in-law of Minnie Gibbs whose suspicions had seen through the facade of Jolly Jane to the monster underneath. Since the death of Minnie and her entire family, Captain Paul Gibbs had suspected Jane’s deadly hand in the death of the Davis family. With the help of friends and a Harvard university toxicologist, Captain Gibbs orchestrated the exhumation of the remains of Genevieve Gordon and Minnie Gibbs. 

Therefore, on October 29, law enforcement arrested Jane Toppan at the New Hampshire residence of her friend. She was charged with only one murder, that of Minnie Gibbs. Of course her friends were shocked. What they did not know was that Toppan’s arrest actually saved their lives. Jane later admitted she was planning to kill the acquaintances with whom she was staying. 

Jane was arraigned in the Barnstable County Courthouse, where she pleaded not guilty. As the entire country was swept up in the drama of Jolly Jane’s crimes, she spent her days feeling sorry for herself in the Barnstable jailhouse. The Davis family, she insisted, died of natural causes. 

Though in retrospect her crimes seem a little obvious, the prosecution had one major problem. When the bodies of the Davis women were exhumed, the Harvard toxicologist did find traces of poison. This, of course, led to the arrest of Toppan in New Hampshire. The problem was that he found traces of arsenic, which Jane never used. 

The assumption that Jane had poisoned her victims with arsenic was made based on the cases of previous female serial poisoners in Massachusetts, who had used arsenic. In addition, the poison was very accessible in 1901. It could be purchased from any druggist over the counter.  Yet, despite exhaustive searches in North Falmouth, the prosecution obviously could not find any druggist who sold arsenic to Jane Toppan. 

The prosecution’s case was further damaged when it was revealed that the undertaker, who had handled the bodies of the Davis family, had used arsenic in his embalming fluid. Jane’s lawyer jumped at the chance to claim that the Davises had dies of natural causes and any traces of poisons found had been from the embalming process.

Despite the lack of evidence uncovered by the prosecution, the daily newspaper articles featuring Toppan encouraged dozens of people to come forward with their own Jane Toppan stories. Slowly articles from all over New England began connecting a growing list of odd deaths, house fires, and missing money found in Jane’s past. Although she was only being officially charged with a single murder, the list of her probable victims grew from 4 to 12 over a few months. Even stories of her past as Honora Kelley were divulged to reporters by a woman claiming to be a cousin. 

All the while, as Jane’s murderous past was brought to light for the country, Jane herself was quietly reading newspapers, exchanging mail with friends, and enjoying the home cooked meals of the wife of the Barnstable jailer, Mrs. Judah Cash. Many patients and friends who she actually hadn't murdered wrote, promising their moral and financial support for Toppan, whose innocence they seemed confident of. Whether or not Jane believed she was in serious trouble is a little unclear. Either way, the media of 1901 had thoroughly convicted her in the eyes of the public. 

It was again Captain Gibbs, the father-in-law of Minnie Gibbs, who saved the day for the prosecution. Gibbs had been surprised to learn the prosecution suspected Toppan of arsenic poisoning. He had come to believe she was more devious than to use such an obvious chemical. Rather Gibbs suggested to newspapers that Jane had used doses of morphine and atropine. 

The grave of Captain Paul Gibbs - the hero of this tale - Cataumet Cemetery

Armed with the suspicions of Captain Gibbs, the bodies of the two Davis women were re-examined, and were both found to contain lethal doses of both medications. Furthermore, a druggist in Wareham remembered Jane having ordered a large quantity of morphine, which he had shipped to her by train to Cataumet. 

In addition, the bodies of the remainder of the Davis family were exhumed from Cataumet cemetery in order to be tested for morphine and atropine. Soon after the autopsies Jane was formally indicted for the murders of Alden Davis, Genevieve Gordon, and Minnie Gibbs. According to Mrs. Cash, the wife of the Barnstable jailor, Jane accepted these developments in her case. She retired to her cell, ate her dinner, and slept a restful night. 

However, it was not new evidence which eventually cracked the Toppan case for Barnstable County, instead it was Jane herself. Wishing to evaluate his client’s mental state, her lawyer arranged for Jane to be evaluated by a group of impartial psychiatrists (called alienists at the time). It was during this evaluation in the spring of 1902 where Jane finally began to make her confession. At first admitting to the crimes for which she had been charged, then detailing her other misdeeds including arson and the multiple other murders she had committed throughout her life, at least 31 in total.

Jane explained the details of her crimes calmly and unemotionally. She explained that she felt no remorse for the murders, even those of her friends. In fact, she had murdered so often she struggled to recall the details of each crime. It had become a routine habit of her existence, just another old thing she did. 

One of the psychologists who interviewed Jane, a Massachusetts doctor named Charles Stedman, later published his clinical assessment of her in an article entitled A Case of Moral Insanity With Repeated Homicides And Incendiaries And Late Development of Delusions. In his interview with Jane, Stedman makes several attempts to understand her crimes. Jane is very elusive about her motives, claiming at first to achieve a sort of sexual satisfaction from being with dead bodies. However, at last, even she seems confused about why exactly she felt the need to murder. According to Jane:

“I seem to have a sort of paralysis of thought and reason. Something comes over me, I don’t know what it is. I have an uncontrollable desire to give poison without regard to the consequences. I have no objection against telling my feelings, but don’t know my own mind. I don’t know why I do these things.”

 Perhaps at the end Jane really did not know what caused her behavior. Though her initial claim of sexual excitement seems to be backed up by her own earlier behavior, Dr. Stedman was not convinced. He believed she made the claim only to show that she had no control and could not be held accountable for her actions.

Either way, in the eyes of her assessors, Jane did not need extra reasons to appear insane. Stedman’s final analysis stated clearly, “Therefore, we are of the opinion that she was insane and irresponsible at the time of the homicides with which she is charged.” He even went further, explaining that she would pose a serious threat to public safety if she were ever freed.

With the testimony of the psychologists and Jane’s new confession, all believed her trial would be a rather short one. This turned out to be correct. On the morning of June 23, Jane’s trial finally commenced. For all the build up and drama, it was a very quick affair. Based on the testimony of the three psychiatrists who interviewed Jane, a verdict was reached in less than 7 hours. Jane was found not guilty by reason of insanity and sentenced to serve the remainder of her natural life in the Taunton State Hospital.

Taunton State Hospital - 1987

Apparently Jane felt as though she had gotten away with her crimes. All articles at the time describe Jane as smiling as the verdict was read, some even say she laughed. Most even go as far to say that she nearly danced out of the court room in absolute glee. 

Jane spent the evening with her friend Mrs. Cash and was escorted to the Taunton bound train the following day. During the entire trip to Taunton she seemed confident that she had gotten the better of the law, even going as far as explaining to reporters that she would most certainly be freed after only a few years.

In the days after her sentencing several new facts about Jane’s crimes stunned the public. First, Toppan’s attorney divulged that Jane had confessed her crimes to him months ago. In fact, according to him, Jane had eagerly confessed that she had killed at least 31 people over her years as a professional and private nurse. 

Second, Jane’s confession was published in William Randolph Hearst’s New York Journal. Though the confession was sensationalized and can not all be attributed to direct quotes from Jane, it did more or less accurately detail her crimes. In addition, it revealed Jane’s plot to fool the court assigned psychiatrists into believing that she was insane. 

In her confession, she explained yet another cause for her behavior. According to Jane, “If I had been a married woman, I probably would not have killed all these people. I would have had my husband, my children, and my home to take up my mind.” Perhaps, in the end, she blamed the young man who had abandoned her after proposing marriage. Though, if he even existed, I think his decision probably saved his life.

Dr. Stedman continued to keep track of Jane during her stay in Taunton. For the first year, by most reports, Jane seemed to manage well. According to Stedman, “During the first year of her life at the hospital she was, as a rule, sociable, quiet, cheerful, amiable, and spasmodically helpful.” In fact she gained weight and wrote of her fondness for the other patients.

However, by 1903, Jane’s condition had deteriorated quite a bit. She began to make accusations against the hospital staff, claiming that they were attempting to poison her. She refused to eat and quickly lost the weight she was well known for. In addition, Stedman reports that her personal hygiene took a steep decline.

Jane Toppan - 1st year at Taunton State

By 1904, Jane had become emaciated by her refusal to eat, having lost half her body weight. The hospital staff began to force feed her through a tube, at which point she ate voluntarily for a time. The whole time, Jane mentally declined as well. She switched between manic laughter and delusional paranoia. Even if Jane was not clinically insane by modern standards at the time of her trial, it appears she may have been after her two year stay at Taunton. 

Jane Toppan - after her 2nd year at Taunton

Despite the deterioration in her mental in physical health, Jane managed to live another 34 years in the Taunton hospital. She died August 17, 1938, at the age of 81. Rather than poison (which might have been appropriate), she died of pneumonia. Toward the end of her life, according to her obituary, Jane became a docile and cooperative patient. 

Jolly Jane’s story illustrates several interesting aspects of New England history. First, the status of the medical profession in the early 1900’s was frighteningly primitive. Jane was able to fool just about every medical professional she came across and was only stopped due to the suspicion of an old Yankee sea captain. 

Second, cases like Jane’s were just beginning to be heard of during her lifetime. Serial killers like H.H. Holmes and even Jack the Ripper were new to the time period. Though these types of crimes might still be appalling to modern people, they are certainly not unimaginable unfortunately. 

Lastly, though events in Jane’s life might have obviously contributed to her behavior as a sociopath and poisoner, her crimes remain frightening and shocking. What is perhaps the most shocking is that her friends and neighbors never even guessed the chubby middle aged nurse everyone loved also habitually killed dozens of people for the simple pleasure of it. 

Certainly this research will now make me think twice when, as I enjoy my sunny Cape Cod summers, and I accept a cool drink from a smiling friend, family member, waiter, or just about anyone really. I might wonder what or who is really behind the smile, where the drink came from, and just what the friendly deliverer might have opted to add. Yup, pretty creepy. 

Jolly Jane - Queen of the Poisoners - Cataumet, Ma

During my research into New England history, I have been to supposedly haunted places, many graveyards after dark, and even to the resting place of a supposed Rhode Island vampire. Honestly, none of these places were too creepy. However, while researching the life and crimes of Jolly Jane Toppan, I can honestly say I felt shivers. These were the actions of a real monster. Yet when retracing the path of Jane from orphan to Cape Cod’s most infamous serial killer, though I was still had the heebie jeebies, I also had a greater understanding of just how she became the thing she did.

For this research, I used a great deal of information from Harold Schechter’s book Fatal: The Poisonous Life of a Female Serial Killer. Though Schechter details the crimes of several female killers, his information regarding Jane Toppan is particularly in depth and helpful. In addition, I've split this article in two in order to focus on Jane’s early life and her crimes connected to the Cape.

According to Schechter, the monstrosity that would become Jolly Jane began her life as Honora Kelley, the younger daughter of a very unusual Boston Irish couple named Peter and Bridget Kelley. Not much is known about Jane’s early life or her parentage, though there are several tidbits of folklore connected to both.

Apparently, Jane’s mother had died of consumption shortly before 1863, leaving her and her sister Delia with the unstable and most likely abusive, Peter Kelley. According to several newspaper articles published after Jane's trial, Peter Kelley was an alcoholic. He was known around Boston as “Kelley the Crack,” a reference to his erratic and sometimes violent behavior. Later in life, it is said Peter eventually lost his mind and sewed his own eyelids shut while working in a tailor’s shop. Some articles even stated that he had been institutionalized by the time Jane’s actions became public knowledge. Though, these stories may have been an attempt to “prove” that insanity was a trait that ran in Jane’s family.

Of course I cannot verify most of the information about Jane’s origins. Nor could I find a birth record for Honora or Delia. Furthermore, Jane Toppan seems to enter the historical record only after her father abandoned his daughters at the Boston Female Asylum in February of 1863. The asylum, which had been in operation since 1800, accepted orphaned children and children voluntarily surrendered by their parent or guardian. Honora and Delia were voluntary surrenders.

At the Boston Female Asylum, young girls would be instructed in domestic skills until the age of eleven. After eleven, girls could be placed in a home, seemingly under an indentured contract of around 7 years. During this time the indentured girls would act as a live in house-servant. Theoretically, it was a win-win for all parties. Foster families got cheap live in servants and the young girls supposedly received further education and experience. At the age of 18, the girls would be released from servitude with at least $50.

This is actually the New York Foundling Hospital
Perhaps similar to what the Boston Female Asylum was like

According to An Account of the Boston Female Asylum, “The greatest care is always taken in selecting places for those to be bound out.” Some girls surely received the promised benefits and perhaps a new familial support system, yet some probably left after additional years of abuse and the acquisition of new emotional scars at the hands of their foster families. Certainly this seemed to be the case for young Jane Toppan.

When Kelley the Crack left his daughters at the asylum in 1863 Delia was eight and Honora was six. It in not known how Peter Kelley treated his daughters. However, based on Jane Toppan’s later career, one can guess he was not a loving and doting father. By all appearances, little Honora Kelley seemed to receive a second chance at life when she was indentured at the age of only 8 to Mrs. Ann Toppan of Lowell, Massachusetts. Being “bound out” so young seems to have been contradictory to the rules of the Asylum. Why this happened no one currently knows.

Regardless, this is where Honora Kelley began her re-birth as Jane Toppan. Though never officially adopted (few girls were), she does appear on the 1870 and 1880 US Census among the Toppan family of Lowell as Jennie Toppan.

Toppan and Foster Family - 1870 Lowell, Ma

Toppan and Foster Sister - 1880 Lowell, Ma

At this time in her life Harold Schechter felt that Jane suffered a different type of abuse than she might have during those early years with her father. According to Schechter: 

“That Jane was made to feel profoundly ashamed of her heritage is clear from her later behavior. As she grew older, she displayed the classic symptoms of ethnic and religious self hatred, lying about her origins to new acquaintances, and voicing anti-Irish and anti-Catholic sentiments more derogatory than the most bigoted remarks bandied in the polite, Protestant circles in which she moved.”  

Though I can’t speak for how Jane felt about her own ethnicity, an examination of her early census entries conveniently leave out any hint of her Irish origin. In addition, they give a clear indication of the people who moved through her life between 1870 and 1880. Most important, other than Ann Toppan, were Ann’s daughter Elisabeth and her husband Oramel Brigham. Both 18 years older than Jane. According to their census and marriage records, Elisabeth was a house keeper and Oramel was a Rail Road employee, who later became a local Deacon. 

A Jane grew into a young woman she was mostly well liked by her friends and family. People seemed to find her amusing and charming for the most part. However, there were darker aspects of her personality and behavior. Though dismissed at an early age, in retrospect they seemed to hint at what she would later become. 

According to Schechter, Jane was a habitual liar. Some of her stories seemed strange yet harmless. For instance she told people that her father was a famous explorer and her brother was a famous Civil War hero. However, Jane was also known as a gossip and rumor monger, who would target students she had a personal grudge against. 

Jane grew into adulthood with the Toppans. At the age of 18 she was released from her indentured contract with the agreed upon $50. According to Massachusetts vital records Ann Toppan died in 1891, unfortunately leaving Jane out of her will. However, Jane continued to live with Oramel Brigham and her foster sister Elizabeth, still acting as a live in house-servant despite being released from her contract. 

As her 20’s passed her by, Jane watched her school friends begin to get married and have children. For whatever reason, Jane never did get married, though there are several newspaper articles telling of a near engagement that did not pan out. One article from the Seattle Daily Times even claims she had been given an engagement ring engraved with the shape of a bird by a young suitor named Charles May. However, Charles soon left for Holyoke and fell helplessly in love with the young daughter of a new employer. The story even states that Jane harbored a particular malice toward birds after this event. Schechter mentions that Jane gained an “unattractive” amount of weight at this time, topping about 170 pounds. Certainly newspaper articles published after her arrest never describe her as attractive. 

Jane as a younger adult

Jane worked for Elizabeth until 1885. The circumstances of her departure are unknown. However, by 1887 Jane had applied to and was accepted at a Cambridge nursing school in the hope that she could make a career change. It was here, due to her charming personality and plump physique, that she earned the nickname “Jolly Jane.” The name would follow her throughout her life and add a certain morbid flair to her later crime spree.

At the Cambridge nursing school Jane was not terribly liked by the other students. As she did when she was younger, she spread terrible rumors about students she didn’t like and took great pleasure when those rumors resulted in her “enemies” being thrown out of school. However, to doctors and her superiors, she seemed very passionate and congenial. This is no doubt due to the fact that Jane was also an enormous brown-noser. As a student she took to her studies with enthusiasm and her patients often brightened to see her when she worked. 

Jane would later admit that it was during her studies at the nursing school, when she began to experiment with medication. Schechter mentions that she conspired to keep patients in the hospital longer if he liked them, sometimes giving enough extra medication to make them ill, or doctoring charts to show fake symptoms. 

Jane first experimented with morphine, injecting patients and watching them either die or recover at her leisure. Later, she added the drug atropine to her experiments. In the late 1800's both drugs were more or less over the counter medications used as common pain killers and to treat diseases like whooping cough. However, Jane discovered that with both chemicals she could vary the symptoms of her patients enough that even the doctors could not tell for certain what had killed them. 

Sometimes Jane simply made her patients more ill with her experiments. Sometimes she outright killed them. However, sometimes she poisoned them only to near death, then took great pleasure in trying to save them. Jane later described this behavior in her confessions. She said:

“When the climax of my mania passed I realized what I had done. I have known that my patients were dying. Then my greatest thought was to resuscitate them. I have then worked over them, trying to bring them back to consciousness. I have sent for doctors and other nurses and tried my best to save them. Sometimes I have been successful, but many times the poison was too much. They were beyond recovery and they died.”

Jane would later describe this feeling of “mania” many more times. Often, because of her later behavior, the mania seemed to border on an almost sexual thrill at seeing her patients die before her eyes. Perhaps working as hard as anyone to bring them back to life gave her an additional feeling of godly control over life and death as well. It would be impossible to tell how many patients she killed during her training years at Cambridge Hospital. Schechter guessed it could have been dozens.

In 1888 Jane was able to transfer to Massachusetts General Hospital. Here, she continued her experiments. It was at Mass General where Jane Toppan ran into a patient named Amelia Phinney, whose later testimony would very clearly illustrate how scary and deranged Jane was becoming. 

Mass General Hospital 1850's

According to a 2011 article from the Lowell Sun, Amelia Phinney had been admitted to Mass General for a uterine ulcer. The procedure to treat the ulcer had been painful, leaving Mrs. Phinney in a great amount of pain in bed. Here she was found by Nurse Toppan, who was temporarily filling the role of Head Nurse. Mrs. Phinney asked Jane for help with the pain. Toppan sat Mrs. Phinney up in bed, prompting her to sip from a cup of bitter tasting liquid. 

Mrs. Phinney reported later that she became groggy and near unconscious, but through the haze she felt someone climb into bed with her. She must have been horrified to discover her unwanted partner was nurse Toppan, who petted her hair and “kissed her all over her face.” Jane even attempted to force Mrs. Phinney to consume more of the potion.

Fortunately the whole process was interrupted. Mrs. Phinney reported that Jane suddenly became distracted by something out of her vision. Apparently someone had walked into the room, disturbing Jane. Amelia woke the next morning with a severe headache, believing the strange experience of the previous night had been a terrible dream. It was not until 14 years later that Amelia Phinney realized she was lucky to be alive. 

Despite this event and her diabolical experiments, Nurse Toppan was finally discharged from Mass General in 1890 for something as simple as leaving the ward without permission. Schechter concludes that Jane had amassed a considerable amount of suspicion during her time at the hospital. Things disappeared under her care, particularly cash and the expensive belongings of rich patients. Though nothing could be definitively proved, hospital administrators took this chance to remove Jane even before she received her nursing license. 

For a time Jane attempted to return to her former school associated with Cambridge Hospital. However, other employees were beginning to suspect that Jane at the very least was irresponsible and dangerous to the patients. So, in 1891 Cambridge Hospital dismissed her as well, leaving Jane with only one real option to exercise her medical skills and her manic desire to kill. Jane became a private nurse for hire. 

Over the next few years Jane became one of the most successful private nurses in the Boston area. Despite the rumors that followed her from job to job, she was highly sought after for her nursing skills and good humor (at least when her employers were around). Despite her success as a healer, bodies piled up in her wake. All murders were explained away by doctors as strokes or as the result of a strangulated hernia. In addition to murder, she had acquired the habit of stealing from her victims as well. Often leaving a grieving family confused about their loved one’s missing belongings. Later she would adamantly deny she was a thief as well as a murderer. She almost seemed insulted by the additional accusation, saying that money didn't matter to her. 

Around this time in her life, Jane made her connection to the sandy shores of the Cape. Apparently, for many years during her adult life Toppan had spent summers in the Cape Cod village of Cataumet in Borne. She regularly stayed in a small cottage near to a larger former hotel called the Jachin House. In August of 1899, Jane contacted her foster sister Elizabeth in back in Lowell, who she had maintained a connection with. Apparently Elizabeth seemed to have been suffering from something like depression. Jane invited her to the Cape. claiming that it would cheer her up. Unfortunately Elizabeth accepted. 

Jachin House and Davis Family - Cataumet, Ma

Elizabeth arrived on August 25 and spent the day with Jane at the beach. By August 28, she had unexpectedly fallen into a coma. Her husband Oramel was contacted via telegraph and arrived to spend a last few hours with his unconscious wife before she died in bed. The local physician explained the death as, again, having been caused by a stroke. 

Not only did Jane seem to have once again avoided suspicion, she also convinced poor Oramel that Elizabeth had wanted her to inherit some of her belongings, which she later pawned. It would only be revealed at Jane’s trial in Barnstable that Oramel had suspected Jane in having a hand in his wife’s death. Unfortunately it would take the lives of several more people before he could be stopped. 

What Oramel Brigham might not have known at the time was that Jane also had plans for him. Following her trial, newspapers widely reported that Jane had killed her foster sister because she wanted to marry Oramel herself. Her future actions would lend credibility to this theory as well. However, Jane’s murder of her foster sister was not her last Cape Cod murder. In fact, Jane’s greatest criminal connection to the Cape, and the crimes which eventually got her caught were all connected to the Davis family of Cataumet. 

The Davises of Cataumet, who owned the once prosperous resort-like property Cataumet called Jachin House knew Jane very well. Since 1896 Jane had been one of their most favorite repeat guests. She was so well known and well liked that her Bourne neighbors often used her as a babysitter and, of course, a medical consultant. The Davises loved her and treated her almost as a member of their family, even giving her a large discount on her rental. 

Yet, despite the generous discount, Jane Toppan owed the Davises several hundred dollars in overdue rent. By 1901 Mrs. Mattie Davis, the matron of the clan, had felt that Jane’s rent was finally due. She made plans to visit Jane at her residence in Cambridge in order to confront her about the money the family was owed. Of course, Mattie Davis did not know the danger he was putting herself in. She could not have known the friendly woman she knew as “Jolly Jane” had already previously murdered her former landlords in Cambridge for becoming “feeble and fussy” or “old and cranky” (Jane particularly did not like the elderly).

However, in 1901 Jane had wormed her way into the favor of her current landlords, the Beedles, by poisoning their housekeeper with morphine. When The Beedles fired their housekeeper for being drunk on the job (in reality she was passed out from Jane's poison), Jane was there to swoop into the new position and a comfortable new home. 

When poor Mattie Davis arrived to confront Jane about the owed rent, it took Jane only a couple hours to decide to poison her into a coma with doctored mineral water. Toppan then contacted Mattie’s daughter and husband, informing them that their loved one had fallen ill. She spent the next few days re-dosing Mrs. Davis, allowing her to mysteriously regain consciousness, then plunging her back down into a coma. The family and even a local doctor could only look on in confusion and horror at the symptoms of Jane's latest victim. 

Toppan finally allowed Mattie to die in early July of 1901. The official cause of death, according to local newspapers, was chronic diabetes. Jane accompanied Mattie’s remains back to Bourne, attended her funeral at Cataumet Cemetery like any other mourner and close family friend. However, in her later confessions, much of which was published in various newspaper articles of 1902, Jane expressed her true thoughts. She later admitted thinking of the mourners, who had traveled from as afar away as Chicago to say their last goodbyes to Mattie Davis, “You had better wait a little while and I will have another funeral for you. If you wait, it will save you going back and forth.” 

Though no one, except perhaps Oramel Brigham, could have guessed, the entire Davis family was now in danger of being wiped out. Little did they know, their close family friend, Jolly Jane, was actually a serial killer who had finally and inevitably lost any control she ever had over her own behavior. Her manic urges and desire to snuff out the lives of her friends and family had now become a danger to everyone around her. 

The Mystery of Cape Cod's Boundary Stones

I was very busy this spring preparing an article for the June 2013 Summerscape, which is published by the Barnstable Patriot. My article article is now available online. I very much enjoyed participating in Summerscape this year and thank the editors for allowing me to do so. The subject of my research concerned the creation of the original town boundaries on Cape Cod, or at least one of the theories that tries to explain the boundaries. The research was absolutely fascinating and took me to places and sources I had never seen before. Through these sources it became clear to me that there are still so many things we do not know about the history of the Cape, how our town earned their borders is just one of them.

One of the biggest mysteries uncovered in my research has been the lack of information surrounding the various boundary stones one can find sitting on Cape town lines. Although a couple of these markers are registered as important landmarks by the National Register of Historic Places, there is still very little information explaining where they even came from, when they were placed at their current locations, and who placed them there.

In my article for Summerscape, I focused primarily on the stone uncovered by Michael Faber’s Cornerstone Project. This large flat boulder is located just off Rt. 6a, between Barnstable and Yarmouth. It very clearly has the letters "YxB" chiseled into its surface, signifying the boundary between the towns. However, as to who did the chiseling and when it was done . . . no one seems to know. The earliest concrete historical reference to the existence of the stone can be found in a 1907 Atlas. Although its existence in 1907 makes the stone historical at this point in time, there are some who believe it was created as part of the originally boundary between Yarmouth and Barnstable. This would date the inscription to around 1641.


The YxB Stone - Spring 2013

As the Summerscape article focuses heavily on the history of the “YxB” stone and the theories of the Cornerstone Project, I won’t restate huge portions of it here. If you’d like to know more about the stone, do check out the Summerscape link. Instead, I wanted to expand upon some of the other sources I didn’t use previously.

The other set of markers I researched, but did not devote as much space to in the article, were the boundary stones between the towns of Sandwich and Barnstable. One of these, a marker along Race Lane in Sandwich, has been recognized by the National Register of Historic Places since about 1987. This marker is a simple stone post a little over 2 feet tall. The letters "B/S" have been carved on its surface, showing the boundary between Barnstable and Sandwich.

Marker on Race Ln - you can just see the B/S at the bottom

According to their information, this marker was erected in 1639 when Myles Standish and John Alden were sent by the Plymouth Court to settle the boundaries of Sandwich. Of course, no one can prove this to be true. Even the records of the Plymouth Court are unclear about when the boundary between these two towns was officially established.

Plymouth Court records indicate that Standish and Alden were tasked as early as 1638 with the establishment of the Sandwich boundaries. However, the same records show that boundary disputes between Sandwich and Barnstable needed reconciling in both 1651 and 1652. However, it was not until June of 1670 that bounds were actually set in writing by the court. Though the Plymouth records make no mention of the creation of a stone marker, this particular boundary stone was referenced in a 1901 report on bounds of Sandwich, which is now housed in the Sandwich archives. Again, no mention of who created it or when it was put there.

Although some may argue that just because no one knows the exact origins of these boundary stones and their carvings, it doesn’t make them really mysterious. Cape Codders pass by them every day and they are as common as spring weeds on the side of our roads. Our forefathers just did not think to record exactly when they were placed, which is a shame because history geeks like me would like to know.

Still, the marker stones are part of a greater Cape Cod unknown. Truthfully, we only have bits and pieces of sources that explain the creation of the boundaries between the modern Cape towns. As I explain in the article, the Cornerstone Project has been trying to prove one theory; that these boundaries were surveyed and marked from a ship in Cape Cod Bay. While it is an interesting theory, I am still left without any rock solid historic facts as proof. Until then, as with other posts on this blog, the mystery persists.

Wampanoag Language Reclamation



Douglas Pocknett - from Boston Globe

It is now graduation season throughout our country. Thousands of our nation’s youth are completing one part of their lives and moving toward the next with pomp and circumstance. For most, graduation is a simple secular ceremony signifying the beginning of adulthood in our culture. It is repeated with minor variation year after year. However, on the Cape, the 2013 graduation at Mashpee High School has made history.

Earlier this month, a Mashpee Wompanoag student named Douglas Pocknett graduated from Mashpee High School wearing the ceremonial dress of the Wampanoag. Although Douglas is only the second Mashpee student to have done this, he is the first to have delivered a traditional Wampanoag prayer to the assembly in his own native language called Wôpanàak.

According to the documentary We Still Live Here, no one can say for sure when the last native speaker of Wôpanàak died. However, certainly the language was near extinction by the mid 1800's. Although Wôpanàak is an Algonquian language, it is distinct and separate from similar languages like Abenaki or Narragansett.

Remnants of the language exists in colonial documents and in Bibles written for Praying Indians. In 1993, the Wôpanàak Language Reclamation Project began under the direction of a linguist named Jesse "little doe" Baird. Baird began earning a Masters Degree in Algonquian linguistics at MIT. Through the cooperation of the various Wampanoag groups of the Cape and Islands, the project reconstructed a nearly lost language and began teaching the language to tribe members. It’s amazing to think that Cape Cod missionaries like Richard Bourne, who helped to translate Christian payers into the Wampanoag language, have now helped reconstruct that language.

Jesse "little doe" Baird

What is even more amazing is that Douglas Pocknett is a student of Jesse Baird. Pocknett was also the first Mashpee student to earn foreign language credits by studying his ancestral language, which is a practice I hope the Mashpee school system continues to expand.

I have been following the Wôpanàak Language Reclamation Project for a few years now. I totally respect the work of Jesse Baird and the Wampanoag groups that took part in the continuing reclamation of the Wampanoag language. I consistently remind any of my Wampanoag students of the project. Like any young student, I find they have varying levels of interest in their own ancestry. I did have one student this year who was interested in attending one of the language immersion summer camps though and another who was totally fascinated when I shared the news about the Mashpee graduation and Douglas Pocknett.

I must admit, I am also totally jealous. There hasn’t been a native speaker of Irish Gaelic in my family in at least three generations. Also, my maternal grandmother and her parents spoke French asa first language, which has now completely died out in my generation. Like I said, jealous. The difference, however, is that those languages continue to exist and are still used in large parts of the world. Certainly, I wish the Wmpanoag luck in the re-establishment of their native language in their native land. One day I would love to walk the lands of Cape Cod and hear the same language our Yankee ancestors did.

Sandwich Glass Museum

In my post on the Boston and Sandwich Glass Company I could not really focus on the history and process of glass making itself. The amount of information was staggering. Did you know ruby glass contains gold? Did you know canary yellow glass is actually radioactive? In researching, I really did learn a lot about the tradition of making glass. I learned enough to know that I don’t know much at all.

Canary Yellow glass contains uranium. Really!!

Ruby glass contains gold

The Sandwich Glass Museum is a great place to start learning about the glass making industry on Cape Cod. Again, n my post I did not spend nearly enough space discussing the great time I had at the museum itself. The Sandwich Glass Museum is located on 129 Main Street, Sandwich, Ma. Currently, the museum is running on its winter hours. It s open Wed – Sun 9:30am to 4:00pm. Admission is $6 for adults, $1.25 for children 6 – 14, and free for children under 5.

On top of the thousands of examples of Sandwich glass, it also offers hourly glass blowing demonstrations and a 20 or so minute movie about the first 200 years of Sandwich history. The following is a video showing the glass blowing demonstration available every day at the museum.

It is definitely worth stopping by this well run museum to experience a major part of Cape Cod and American history.

The Boston & Sandwich Glass Company



Boston & Sandwich Glass Company

Although I have lived on Cape Cod nearly all my life, there is still a lot of history I don’t know, a lot of sites I’ve never seen, and many museums I have yet to visit. Just recently I had time to look into one of these areas of ignorance by visiting the Sandwich Glass Museum. Although its one of the most well known historic stops on the Cape, I had actually never been to the Glass Museum. Nor had I ever really looked into the part Cape Cod played in the Industrial Revolution. During my visit I learned more than I ever knew about glass and the contributions the town of Sandwich made to the development of glass making technology in the United States and around the world.

Of course, one cannot look into the development of glass making in Sandwich without first attempting to understand its founder, Deming Jarves. According to Harriet Buxton Barbour in Sandwich: The Town That Glass Built, Deming Jarves was born to English parents in Boston in December of 1790. Jarves grew up in Boston surrounded by the developing post-Revolution industry of New England. He became involved in the very competitive world of glass making when he took a job as a clerk for the Boston Porcelain and Glass Company soon after his marriage in 1815.

Deming Jarves

The company continually suffered from management problems and changed hands several times until it was ready to go under. According to Barbour, in 1817 Boston Porcelain and Glass was willing to dispose of all its property. Luckily for Jarves, he was in a position to profit. With several of his relatives, he was able to purchase and become the active manager of the New England Glass Company of East Cambridge, which rose from the ashes of the old Boston Porcelain and Glass.

For a time Jarves threw himself into his new passion. He studied the ancients like Strabo, Vergil, and Pliny. He learned everything he could concerning the ancient art of glass making in Egypt and Mesopotamia. Then he began to pair this knowledge with the miraculous inventions of the newly developing industrial world. Between 1821 and 1833, Jarves registered for two patents, each creating new and easier methods to produce glass.

However, in 1823 Deming’s father died, leaving him a $25,000 inheritance. Barbour explains that Jarves began to question his role at New England Glass. He did not want to spend the best years of his life developing his business and passion for partners who were only interested in profit. What Jarves wanted was a legacy for himself and his growing family. With his new inheritance, he had his chance.

According to Frank W. Chipman, in The Romance of Old Sandwich Glass, Jarves had previously spent time hunting in the marshes of the Cape. During one hunting trip he began to conceive of a new idea. He believed that the location of and resources in the Sandwich area showed an abundance of untapped raw industrial potential. According to most resources, he even believed he could use the many acres of marsh grass around the town for packing material.

In April of 1825, the buildings that would become the glass factory were erected. Chipman describes several tenement buildings for the workers, a butcher shop, a general store, and a barn. In addition, he states that the original factory was only one small furnace. This area was eventually nicknamed Jarvesville, after Deming himself. On July 4, 1825, the first pot of glass was made using sand from the near the factory.

However, according to many resources, including Chipman, Barbour, and information provided by the Sandwich Glass Museum, Jarves did not choose Sandwich for its miles and miles of Cape Cod sand. In order to make crystal clear glass, one needs pure quartz silica. As was demonstrated to me in the museum, Cape sand is rather impure, as it contains traces of iron and other elements. When blown into glass, it has a yellowish tinge to it. Kinda interesting looking, but not what most people wanted.

The yellowish rod on the right was made using Cape Sand

Instead, it was the town’s position near a navigable creek and harbor, its inexpensive land, and its abundance of trees for fuel that convinced Jarves that Sandwich could be a profitable place to grow a business. Knowing that the Cape sand would not do for creating fine quality glass, Jarves shipped in sand from New Jersey and New York. Eventually he purchased land in the Berkshires from which he imported nearly 100% pure quartz silica.

In the early days of the factory Jarves hired glass blowers from England and Ireland. He even tempted many away from his former company in Cambridge. In time locals became apprenticed to these original masters and were able to advance from journeyman to master for themselves. This system provided a steady stream of native employable talent, which soon began to develop a purely American style of fine glass products distinguished from its worldwide competitors.

However, at the onset of his enterprise Jarves found that he needed additional funding to support his vision. Reluctantly, he agreed to form a corporation with other businessmen, including his wife’s wealthy cousin. These men then funneled hundreds of thousands of dollars into improving and enlarging the Sandwich facilities. The new corporation did provide Jarves with the funds he needed. However, in the process he was also giving up sole control of his new company. In hindsight, this seems like it was something he was not totally willing to do. Either way, with the creation of the new corporation, the Boston and Sandwich Glass Company was born.

With the improvements created through his new funding, the new Boston and Sandwich Glass Factory grew to acquire world wide fame as a quality manufacturer. According to Lenore Wheeler Williams in Sandwich Glass, by 1853 the factory had a yearly production of $600,000 in glass plates, cups, lamps, and salt cellars. In addition, Williams states the business grew from employing 70 to employing 500 workers during the same time period.

Furthermore, the town of Sandwich became a center of commerce. Even business unrelated to the glass company prospered due to the consistent wages earned by the glassworkers and their families. By 1840, according to Chipman, Sandwich glass had become so popular that orders came from Montreal, New York, Philadelphia, and even the White House. Soon millions of dollars in orders were being fill from around the world.

Although many pieces of Sandwich glass are classically blown glass, during the mid 1820’s, the factory began to experiment with and became famous for glass pressing. This method required a lever operated machine to press hot glass into a specific mold through the use of a plunger. Although sources agree that Jarves did not invent the pressing process, his work at the Sandwich factory improved the process.

In Sandwich Glass: The History of the Boston and Sandwich Glass Company, Ruth Web Lee describes how Jarves was inspired to experiment with pressing in 1827 when a Sandwich blacksmith asked him to produce a glass tumbler. Jarves first believed this could not be created from glass, because of the restrictions inherent to the art of blown glass. The blacksmith wondered why glass could not be pressed into a mold to create any shape desired.

By 1827, according to Lee and Barbour, glass pressing technology had already been developed in Europe. However, these methods were in their infancy and not available in the United States. Shaping glass using a mold was common practice by this time, but required the labor of a glass blower and mold cracker. Still, Jarves began to believe it was possible to create the design requested by the blacksmith through glass pressing.

He spent weeks building and experimenting in the carpentry shop of the factory. His employees were curious about his designs, but doubted he would succeed. However, he finally emerged, ready to test his machine. Jarves watched as a glass gatherer brought a molten gob of hot glass and dropped it into his new mold. He pressed the plunger down and created the glass factory’s first pressed glass tumbler. Though the item was by no means perfect, it was passable enough to agitate his glass blowers, who now feared for their jobs. In a letter reproduced by Ruthe Lee in Sandwich Glass, Jarves writes:

"The glass blowers on discovery that I had succeeded in pressing a piece of glass, were so enraged for fear their business would be ruined by the new discovery, that my life was threatened, and I was compelled to hide from them for six weeks before I dared venture in the street or in the glass house, and for more than six months there was danger of personal violence should I venture in the street after nightfall."

With one experiment, Jarves had revolutionized the production of glass in the United States, and had upset many people in doing so. By December of 1828, Jarves had patented his new pressing method. It would take roughly ten years before a manufacturer in England could also create a pressed glass product that was more than a shallow dish.

Early Glass Press

Jarves' Original Tumbler

Although the fears of the Sandwich glass blowers were understandable, the creation of the glass press was not as threatening as they imagined. The simple press machine could not mix the glass or create new recipes for color. In addition, the machine opened a niche for mold-makers. These artists were responsible for creating the designs that eventually helped Sandwich Glass stand out from its rivals.

For a businessman, Jarves also seemed to be a true humanitarian. Because of this, the factory became a real part of the Sandwich community during its existence. In Sandwich Glass, Lee relates several examples of Jarves’ considerate welfare toward his employees. During the economic crisis of 1840, his tenants in Jarvesville lived free of rent. When the furnace was undergoing repairs and his men could not work, he continued their pay regardless, though at a quarter of their regular rate. The care he took with his child labor force was unusual for the time. He insisted the children attend the village school and encouraged them to apprentice in their spare time. He even gave the children a half dollar every Fourth of July to buy fireworks.

In addition, Chipman relates several stories as evidence that the factory was not simply a business that employed locals. He states that every Christmas, Jarves donated a barrel of flour to the widows of his former employees. The factory allowed local children to use their worn out parts to create box cars. In addition, Jarves encouraged local children afflicted with whooping cough to come to factory to spend an hour a day inhaling the fumes in their tar room. Of course, this was probably more detrimental then helpful, yet the spirit was there I suppose.

Map of Sandwich 1884 - Showing Jarvesville and Factory

Of course, along with the influx of new comers to Sandwich, came conflicts between locals and residents of the factory areas known as Jarvesville. Knowing how some modern Cape Codders can be very selective of the company they keep, I can only imagine how magnified this was in the mid 1800’s. According to Barbour, in 1830, three employees from Jarvesville were arrested and found guilty of intentionally and rather horrifically killing the cow of a local farmer. Barbour also relates several assaults and thefts attributed to the residents of Jarvesville. The factory village was earning a reputation for rowdiness and alcohol abuse that many residents felt had begun to taint their own town.

Furthermore, the arrival of so many Irish employees to Jarvesville brought the feared religion of Catholicism to Sandwich. To the mostly protestant Cape Codders, Catholicism must have seemed very foreign, with its ancient traditions, and reverence of the Pope. According to church records from Corpus Christi Parish in Sandwich, the first Catholic Church was erected on Jarves Street in 1830 and dedicated to St. Peter. Although there were only 70 parishioners at the time, the factory quickly attracted many more.

Over time, the residents of Jarvesville began to leave the factory village as they married the daughters of Sandwich residents. According to Barbour, the only residents that tended to remain in the tenant buildings were those who could not afford to move and the Catholics who wished to remain near their church. Many of these building remain in the area of Sandwich near the Boardwalk.

The Boston and Sandwich Glass Company continued to be a profitable venture for Jarves, his board of directors, and his stockholders. However, within records provided in Sandwich Glass, one can see a growing tension between Jarves and those he was accountable to. Both Jarves and his board of directors were begging to contend for control of the company.

All resources agree that Deming Jarves ran the company until 1858, and that he resigned due to a dispute with the company’s board of directors. What many sources do not explain is that he had submitted several letters of resignation going all the way back to the 1830’s. In addition what caused his final parting with the company was more multi-layered than a simple dispute.

Deming had several children he wished to include in his enterprise. One of his sons, George Jarves, operated a store in Boston associated with his father’s glassworks. One of the board of directors wished to sever any connection George Jarves had with the Sandwich company. He claimed that since 1854, the association with George’s store had cost Boston and Sandwich Glass upwards of $50,000 a year. This accusation caused stress between both the Jarves men and the board of directors.

Furthermore, according to Ruth Web Lee, labor issues and lack of profits seemed to be eroding the confidence the board had in the abilities of Jarves. In June of 1856, the board unanimously voted to reduce the pay of several employees, including Jarves, by ten percent until the stockholders begin to see profits. It seems as though Jarves was actually part of this meeting and decision, but it is unclear how much power and authority he had at this point. His pay was cut once again in November of 1857.

If one examines the meeting notes provided by Lee in Sadnwich Glass, it seems apparent that over the course of the final years in which Jarves was employed at Boston and Sandwich Glass, the board of directors was continually voting to remove more and more decision making power from him. Jarves once again submitted a letter of resignation, and in June of 1858, the board of directors voted this time to accept it.

The accepted resignation of Deming Jarves and soon afterward, the severing of George Jarves from association with the company, culminated in the complete exile of any member of the Jarves family from Boston and Sandwich Glass. Although the factory continued on without him, according to Lee:

"The most interesting glass produced at the factory was made for the most part, while Deming Jarves was the guiding genius. The most revolutionary changes in the art of glass making occurred while his hand was at the helm."

After leaving the company, Jarves opened a rival business nearby, which he called Cape Cod Glass Works. The new factory was moderately successful, well run, and up to date. Several employees followed him from Boston and Sandwich Glass because he offered them better pay. Deming began the new business hoping to leave a legacy to his son John. Unfortunately John Jarves died in May of 1863, leaving Deming with the business. Jarves continued to run the Cape Cod Glass Works, but showed very little passion for the business after his son’s death.

According to Barbour, in 1865 Jarves updated his older pamphlet, Reminiscences of Glass-Making. In examining his writing, it is apparent, as noted by Lee and Barbour, that Jarves still held a grudge following his separation from Boston and Sandwich Glass. He devoted very little of the book to his former business and even goes as far as to praise its rivals in Pennsylvania and Boston, even in the area of pressed glass, which Jarves had revolutionized. Sadly, I found if one is looking for history on the Boston and Sandwich Glass Company, the writing of Deming Jarves is not the place to seek it.

Jarves remained sole owner of Cape Cod Glass Works, attempting to avoid the mistakes he had made at his previous two businesses. Hearing that Deming Jarves was ill and that his family did not wish to continue running the company, the superintendant at the Cape Cod Works was asked to extinguish the fires. According to Lee and Barbour, in April of 1869, the same day the fires were extinguished, Deming Jarves passed away at his home in Boston.

The Boston and Sandwich Glass Company continued to have labor difficulties. By 1866, according to Lee, the workers were seeking an increase in pay, or threatening a work stoppage. Unfortunately, this was a poor time for the company to increase the pay of its employees. Warehouse fires had destroyed valuable stock and The Panic of 1873 caused an economic crisis in the US and abroad. Rather than an increase in salary, the factory workers saw a decrease in pay by 1877.

In addition, new glass companies were being created in the Midwest. These companies had easier access to coal and dominated markets in the south through an ease in transpiration provided by major river systems To compound all these troubles, the workmen at Sandwich held a short strike and stopped working. With this development, the board of directors began to entertain cutting their losses and getting out.

Once again, the factory in Sandwich was caught up in large national events. On top of labor issues, the powerful movement toward unionization, workmen’s organizations like the Knights of Labor, and events like the Haymaket Affair all began to affect the little town of Sandwich.

With the very visible management style of Deming Jarves now long gone, the employees at Sandwich began to feel disconnected from those running the glass works. Many workers in Sandwich had joined the American Flint Glass Workers’ Union of North America. Still, many refused to unionize. According to Chipman and Barbour, the management in Sandwich made it clear that they would continue to hire both union and non-union workers.

According to Barbour, in December of 1887, in the face of shrinking profits and increased competition, the management at Sandwich gave the factory workers a take-it-or-leave-it choice. The workers were ordered to produce more products per shift, in a work speed-up. The employees would recieve the same pay, but needed to produce more. No management attempted to explain the company’s situation to its workers. The workmen, who knew that millions of dollars in orders were still being filled by the factory, probably did not understand that the company was losing an ever increasing amount of money.

In reality, I suppose the workers were given a choice. Either speed up production or strike and let the furnace be extinguished for good. However, many employees thought this was a bluff by management. In all fairness, it seems pay rates at Sandwich were about standard in comparison with other glass workers in the East. The workers in Sandwich, however, had also seen the successes of glassworker strikes in other companies. In the face of what they thought was true and right, the Sandwich workers called a strike in January of 1888. In response, management simply let the furnace burn out as promised. Thus ended the grand tradition of the glass industry in Sandwich, not with a bang, but with the dying fizzle of an untended furnace.

Although others attempted to re-open the factory doors soon after, their enterprise was short lived. Eventually, the talented glass workers moved to other more profitable locations and the factory fell into disrepair. Chipman mentions the eye-sore that was the rotting body of the factory. On that spot today, nothing remains but cement blocks and a plaque commemorating past greatness.

What remained of the factory mid 1900's



What remains of the Boston & Sandwich Glass Company March 2013

 I fully enjoyed visiting the Sandwich Glass Museum, researching the history of this industry, and visiting the now nearly empty sites of Boston and Sandwich Glass and Cape Cod Glass. The museum is located on 129 Main Street. Though not the original site of the factory, it offers daily glass blowing and pressing demonstrations, and displays hundreds of pieces of Sandwich glass products. The wife and I even purchased our own replica of an original Sandwich glass design made at the museum.

Our own new piece of Cape Cod history

As I have said before, I really wish this local history was taught at the high school level. When learning about the Industrial Revolution, one generally teaches about the mills in Lowell, though not the factories and revolutionary advancements made in Sandwich. In addition to learning about Robber Barons like Carnegie, perhaps the more humanitarian approach of Jarves could also be instructive. When learning about labor organizations like the Knights of Labor and events like the Haymarket Affair, one does not generally focus on its local effects, as in the strike at the Sandwich factory. This is truly a shame, as I think it would demonstrate to our local students that their towns were deeply affected by, but also major players in, our nation’s great history.