Foxborough Hospital's Secret Grave
Foxborough State Hospital historically known as the Massachusetts Hospital for Dipsomaniacs and Inebriates was established in the late 19th century to address alcohol and opium addiction.
It opened in 1889 at the junction of Chestnut and Main Streets in Foxborough, Massachusetts. The original campus comprised a number of residential wards in an L shape, with an administration building at the center. In 1905, the name was changed from the Massachusetts Hospital for Dipsomaniacs and Inebriates at Foxboro to Foxborough State Hospital.
The hospital was involved in a scandal just a scant five years after it opened its doors. Then many of its patients were dipsomaniacs, another word for alcoholics who were encouraged to seek help with their addiction. Men arrested for drunkeness were given a choice of going to the hospital or going to jail.
Due to the abuse claims an order was introduced in the legislature to investigate the management at the hospital, and the various cures for drunkenness.
The evidence obtained was initially kept secret but was gained by the press. They were made by the patients, some who were still inmates and had gone there of their own free will. Several of them belonged to wealthy families of Boston.
One of the first complaints came from a member of a respectable family, whose name was not made public. He said when he came to the hospital there was no treatment except close confinement, and that it would be impossible to leave unless one were there 6 or 8 months or longer, even if the person came voluntarily.
All the men, except a few who are on the parole, are locked up all day in a ward without exercise of any kind. We are allowed morning and afternoon about a half hour to go out to the small plot of ground, set off for the purpose to smoke under guard of 9 or 10 attendants.
It was claimed by the patients that Dr. Marcello Hutchinson the superintendent, had been working at the Taunton Insane Hospital in the female department for 14 years, and didn't know anything about men with drinking problems. His only interest was to keep the inmates there as long as possible.
The complainant said he had been there for seven and a half months, and had only seen the superintendent when he had family visit him.
He complained there were no padded rooms for men suffering from delirium tremens and that they were just put into a room without a watcher, and allowed to pound themselves to their "hearts' content."
The men as a rule are afraid to make complaints for fear the superintendent would stop them from going when their case came before the trustees for release. Every man who is here knows that it amounts to nothing, except for the officials to draw their salary.
Another complainant said, "One patient, whose name was Roach, died from the effects of a kicking he received at this hospital by an attendant. The patient Roach told me two weeks before he died that he thought he would never get over the kicking he received. He ran away, and died at Blackstone, this state."
Another patient named Riley got two black eyes from the attendant over what was known as the prison ward.
The common description was that the hospital was more of a prison, and not a place to receive any treatment.
The administrators at the hospital denied the claims of restricting the movement of the patients and that they were only fed hash and beans. They did admit that there was an indiscriminate commitment of the patients to the hospital.
As a result of the allegations Governor Greenhalge and an executive council were slated to tour the facility. An order was introduced asking the supreme court to render an opinion on certain questions arising under the law for the commitment of persons to the hospital.
As a result of the investigation they looked into using the Keeley Cure. This method to deal with addiction became very popular during the 1890s, especially for the well off. Many criticized the so-called cure, especially those in the medical field. Analysis of the ingredients yielded reports of: strychnine, alcohol, apomorphine, willow bark, ammonia, and atropine were among the many suggested chemicals. Nellie Bly a famed investigative journalist of the day, exposed the fraudulent claim that the cure had a 95% efficacy rate. She went undercover for a week, posing as an absinthe addict, to receive treatment at their facility in White Plains, NY. She documented medical malpractice, unethical claims the program touted in exchange for exorbitant fees from desperate families, and the toxic chemicals in the injections the program used. Eventually it wasn't approved.
By the end of 1894, The American Society for the Study and Cure of Inebriety known also as The Temperance Reform League was asking for an explanation from Dr. Marcello Hutchinson as superintendent of the hospital. They claimed that since taxpayers were supporting the institution an explanation was due of the money being spent there.
In 1897, the hospital was still making the newspapers when in their annual report it was found they 100 escapes from the hospital. It was believed this was a result of easy access to roads and railways.
Since the trustees of the institution could discharge an inmate until six months elapsed from their commitment, many proceedings for a habeas corpus were instituted in order to secure their release.
In 1905, the hospital started to treat psychiatric patients to alleviate the overcrowding in the state’s insane asylums. In 1914, the state substance abuse building was moved to a new location in Norfolk (Pondville State Hospital).
During the 1920s it accepted psychiatric patients of both sexes, including children as evidenced by a short snipped that appeared in the newspaper where a 9-year-old girl and a 28-year-old woman were missing from the hospital.
As early as 1935, the Foxborough was participating in the study of Alzheimer's disease. Based on autopsies performed on patients, 4% of them were suffering from the disease.
However when the Great Depression hit the nation in the 1930s, the type of patients that came to the hospital changed. It wasn’t just drunkards escaping a jail sentence, or rich men who were trying to shake their alcoholism, but persons suffering from dementia and mental illness.
Perhaps this explains a story employees passed down a story of a patient who had been buried alone, because they had some type of “communicable disease.” No one knew the identity of this patient, where they were buried, or if it was true at all.
More than likely the disease was smallpox since in 1903, there was a look-out notice posted for an escapee from the hospital who had been staying in an annex that was under quarantine for smallpox.
The persons that ended their days as patients of the Foxborough were poor or maybe indigent, or perhaps their families just left them there. These were not patients who could complain, and have the local newspaper print articles about their ill-treatment. This perhaps could explain why so many records of persons who were wards of the state and committed to Foxborough disappeared, or were destroyed.
In 2000 it was found that: “About the only documentation the Massachusetts Archives has of the former state-run psychiatric hospital is a series of annual reports and some general summaries of the facility, such as when it was opened and when it closed.”
The supervisor at the state archives said, “Everything that's taken in is cataloged. There are no case files for Foxboro. If a relative of a patient who was believed to be buried on the grounds of the former Foxboro State Hospital were to try to identify which numbered stone belonged to a family member, it would likely be an unattainable task.”
Like many mysteries, resolution came about through the efforts of one person who pursued the clues. In 2010, Jack Authelet, a historian attended a memorial service for this unknown patient, who finally came back to the care of the state. The memorial is marked only by a number, as are all those surrounding it.
He had come across a cluster of stones between an old building and the original Mansfield and Framingham Railroad tracks. Accompanied by his wife they searched the undergrowth and found the spot. In September, 2010 the remains were disinterred from a far and forgotten corner of the asylum grounds, that had been overlooked in the woods for a century.
Authulet had to petition the state to allow an exhumation without any proof of who was buried there.
The identity of the man or woman, most probably will remain unknown, but at least they will not be hidden from being part of those who lived their last days at the Foxborough State Hospital.
The cemetery was established in 1933, and was situated 0.8 miles from the hospital. It is comprised of the Cross Street graveyard, which spills over from Rock Hill Cemetery at the area off North Street. The numbers used on the memorials were tied to patient files that no longer exist. The number of those buried in the cemeteries varies greatly from 300 to more than 1,100 patients during the 88 years the hospital operated.
When it officially closed in 1974, the patients were taken to Plainville State Hospital, which has since closed as well. Other inmates were released into the community.
Foxborough State Hospital would inscribe the patient’s identification number on the side, and at the top, the order in which they died.
Was this person unclaimed by their family because they had none, or because they decided to leave this patient in the state’s care even after death?
During the Great Depression, some families were unable to pay the cost of a burial, and just decided to leave their loved ones where they were.
A groundskeeper who worked there for 43 years said the patients were buried in wooden coffins made by fellow patients in the woodshop. The patients would dig the graves and bury the deceased with little or no fanfare.
The last burials supposedly took place in the 1960s.
The gothic style buildings were used for storage, and in 1989 the Jaycees sponsored a community Halloween haunted house.
In 1994, the campus was added to the National Register of Historic Places. Of the 160-acre parcel belonging to the hospital 42 acres were given to the town for recreational use. The remaining 118 acres were to be sold for private development. The buildings lay abandoned and as of 2005, it was listed as surplus property by the Commonwealth of Massachusetts and offered at auction.
In 2007, a 93-acre community with playing fields and 60,000 square feet of retail space, five office buildings and 203 residences were planned for the site of the old state hospital.
In existence for over a 100 years, there are ghost stories and urban legends tied to Foxboro Hospital. Those who worked there after it closed reported the sound of slamming doors, unusual noises from empty rooms and shadows moving throughout the building.
One worked described that pins in the bowling alley in the basement would be set up by themselves. Buildings A and B were said to always be freezing, no matter what the weather was outside.
While awaiting redevelopment, a fire broke out in the main building. It was largely contained to one ward and damage was limited. The reason for the fire was never explained.
