Shaker Remains & The Lollipop Cemetery

Being part of a religious group that lives communally and apart from society, that would not interest me in the least. But exploring the remains of this community 100 years after they existed, that is something that'll get me out of bed early on any given weekend.

The Shaker village of Harvard Massachusetts was the second Shaker community in America, formed by a group of four families that split from the Protestant Church in 1769. Their active members peaked at around 150 during the mid 1800s, and they spread across 1,000 acres of what is now the Holy Hill Conservation Area in Harvard, where today a public trail system crosses over much of the land they once occupied.

Location of Trailhead

At the trailhead is a map describing who the Shakers were and pointing out their notable spots within the preserve. Much of this will be left to your imagination, however, as many of those spots are now woods or open fields. But a few remnants survive. Among the most impressive is the remains of their old stone barn. You cannot go up to it - it sits on the property of a private residence - but you are still able to enjoy it from the road.

You might wonder why they would make a barn out of stone, but there were instances when stone was cheaper or more convenient to access than wood, and this seems to have been one of them. Other than being built of stone though, this was just another barn.

Source: Wikipedia

Depending on which direction you arrived from, you might have already seen the Shaker cemetery, which holds the remains of nearly 300 members of their group. If you did see it you'll understand why it's playfully referred to today as the lollipop cemetery.

My favorite remnant is their spring house, and if like I was you're unfamiliar with what a spring house is, these structures were once built over natural springs as a protection of the water source. This little hut stands over the water spring that was once shared by all members of the Shaker community.

Although not located in the conservation area, you can find this spring house by walking a trail at the end of nearby Green Hill Road, then keeping an eye out in the woods.

In addition to their religious beliefs and communal living, the Shakers differed from society in other ways, a couple of which could be considered ahead of their time. When we speak of the shakers we're speaking of the 1800s, but women within the community were treated as equal to men, and in fact the entire Shaker sect was led by a woman, Mother Ann Lee. Shakers were also pacifists, and as a group that was excused from the civil war were considered some of America's first conscientious objectors.

But they also had a few ideas that were real head-scratchers. For instance, the shakers practiced celibacy, and if there's one foolproof way to ensure the death of your group someday, just stop reproducing. The only way they could grow or even maintain their numbers was by adopting children or recruiting adults. Not surprisingly, their population dwindled to a point where several of their buildings had to be sold for the survival of remaining members, and by the early 1900s their final piece of property was gone.

But although nothing remains of the Shaker village today, enough remnants are still out there to make for an enjoyable afternoon of exploring.

Belchertown's School For The Feeble Minded

Retardation, or "feeble-mindedness" was caused primarily by defective heredity and inbreeding ... Society therefore, had to be protected from such people. The Belchertown State School for the Feeble Minded was the result. Solidly built "14 miles from anywhere" in isolation, the men and women were segregated to prevent any sexual contact. 

- The Tragedy of Belchertown, Springfield Republican, in describing the philosophy that Belchertown's School for the Feeble Minded was founded under in 1922.

"The Tragedy of Belchertown" - Springfield Republican, 3/15/1970

Looking back over the last 100 years of Massachusetts' history, it's hard to find a more disturbing story than of those who resided in Belchertown's School For The Feeble Minded. The name alone will tell you this is the product of a different generation, and though established as a way to care for people unable to survive independently, for many of the residents who lived and died at this facility theirs is a story of neglect, dehumanization, and treatment in a way that many constituted downright torture.

As were many of the state hospitals from this era, Belchertown was not just a single building but dozens, constructed as a campus style facility where both patients and staff resided. It operated until 1992 when a series of lawsuits, in addition to society's change in how it viewed disabled people, finally led to its closure. Some of these buildings have since been demolished, but many remain, serving as both a reminder of our past and a modern day ghost town for urban explorers.

"State Breaks The Law Every Day" - Springfield Republican, 3/16/1970

In the Springfield Republican's six-part series "The Tragedy of Belchertown", many of the horrific conditions in which patients were kept were brought to light. It was said that some legislatures who toured the buildings became physically sick from the stench and could not continue, a stench due in part by patients being forced to sit in their own filth. Not only did many of the buildings average just one shower per 50 residents, some were punished for infractions by being locked into small rooms without a toilet.

"The Tragedy Of Belchertown" - Springfield Republican, 3/15/1970

This was a complex built for 1,000 patients, but by 1967 there were over 1,600 patients housed at Belchertown. The Springfield Republican described conditions in which during the night only two attendants oversaw every 100 residents, and sometimes it was only 1. Worse yet, the buildings contained no sprinkler systems, beds were crammed together side by side, and fire escapes remained locked.

"State Breaks The Law Every Day" - Springfield Republican, 3/16/70

As outrage built over how officials could let conditions get so bad, the former Director of Federal Programs at Belchertown explained it by saying that superintendents were "rewarded" for not spending all their budgeted funds.













Prior to several of the buildings being torn down last year, I spent an afternoon wandering among them, wondering at their history while at the same time seeing what 30 years of uncontrolled nature can do to modern structures.

Although many of the buildings were boarded up tight, you're not going to have this big of a playground without teenagers prying a few of them open, and those were the holes I looked for.

Of the handful I entered, it's hard to imagine if they'll even remain standing long enough for the city to come tear them down. What you're looking at below is not some sort of outdoor patio, but the third story of a building whose roof has collapsed and vegetation has taken over. I did not enter the room, this picture was taken from the relative safety of a cement stairway.

Rather than taking a thirty foot plunge, I exited this deathtrap and explored some of the smaller buildings where management lived. Not only were these much safer, but the remains of appliances and furniture added to their creepiness.

A 2015 fire destroyed one of these staff building, and considering there hadn't been working utilities out here for over 20 years, yeah it was considered suspicious.

Plans have been approved to develop these 900 acres into housing units, and with that vision in mind more of the buildings were taken down last year. It may not be long before this land is stripped of every last reminder of the institute and put into use once again. Not only will this remove one giant headache the town has to watch over, it will put the black eye society gave itself by its treatment of these people farther into our past.