The tall tales of Framingham

By Dylan Pichnarcik

Editor-in-Chief 

The average commuter student dreads the walk from the parking lot on Salem End Road to the top of the hill where FSU is situated. 

But Salem End Road has a much longer, more sinister history than being the starting point for many unwanted leg workouts.  

Before Salem End was a road, it was a neighborhood much like Boston’s North End. 

Yet it does not get its name from a direction. Rather, it borrows a name from arguably one of the most famous and historic towns in Massachusetts - Salem. 

But why? Well, the residents of this section of Framingham were originally from Salem, fleeing during the 1692 - 1693 Witch Trials. 

After three sisters - Rebecca Nurse, Sarah Clayes, and Mary Etsy - were accused of witchcraft, only one would survive and flee to Framingham with members of their families, according to James L. Parr, co-author of “Framingham: Legends & Lore.” 

The area they would settle would come to bear the name Salem End. 

Parr said the reason the families chose the land that would become Framingham is unclear. However, as it was owned by Magistrate Thomas Danforth, there is a possibility, not a proven fact, that Danforth supported their efforts to escape Salem 

Danforth himself was a deputy governor and magistrate involved in the early witch trials, but he later became a critic.

Unfortunately, for Clayes’ sisters, they would never make it to safety in Framingham, because they were hanged in Salem. 

“The only thing they can think of is the Thomas Danforth connection,” Parr said in an interview with The Gatepost. “You can’t prove it. I mean, he didn’t write down, ‘Sorry, I almost killed you. So here, have some land in my farms.’” 

During each of the women’s trials, claims of witchcraft would be publicly aired and acted upon. 

Parr writes that as Nurse was being questioned by Magistrate John Hathorne, members of the community announced that they had begun seizing since she entered the meeting house. Another said they saw a dark spirit - interpreted as the devil - whispering in her ear. 

For Clayes, she was accused of appearing in spectral form, choking a man, and insisting he sign his soul away. Her innocence held until another community member came forward, insisting she was a “deacon” at a witch ceremony. 

The house built by Peter and Sarah Clayes still stands on Salem End Road.

While Sarah escaped, tragedy would one day befall the Clayes family, now residing in Framingham. 

The great-grandson of Sarah, John Clayes, would die in a shocking way in 1777. 

On an overcast day, while helping purchase a horse on his Salem End farm, Clayes was struck by lightning. This tragedy would take the lives of Clayes, the other attendees, and the horse, according to Parr. 

Lydia Learned, a Framingham schoolteacher, later promoted the idea that God struck down the men for conducting business on the Sabbath, Parr said. 

Was Clayes' death an act of God, a family curse, or just coincidence? The world may never know, but his legend will live on.

Legends often come from the spoken word, and over time, details change, Parr said. Clayes was actually killed on a Tuesday.  

For Parr, legends like the Clayes' are stories passed down for various reasons. 

 He said. “Sometimes, they try to explain happenings that they don’t understand.”

Parr added every town has legends, often derived from very rational instances. Even places can inspire legend. 

It has been written about in early town historical guides that buried treasure belonging to the infamous Captain Kidd randomly appears on the shore of Farm Pond, only to disappear when approached. 

A later account written by Rev. Josiah Temple states that the treasure can be found at Learned’s Pond. His account describes a midnight ritual that will break the curse and release the treasure, according to Parr’s book. 

Writers have also drawn on these stories as inspiration for their own work, Including “Kidd’s Chest of Gold: A legend of Learned’s Pond,” written by Clara Agusta Trask. 

Trask writes, “By Learned's Pond, tradition says, in years long gone before, The Captain Kidd who ‘sailed and sailed’ the high seas 'er and 'er-Who robbed and plundered all mankind, and never mercy shere, With black flag nailed against the mast, above a pirate crew, Sought out this lake, and sank within its waters calm and cold, And placed thereon the pirate's ‘charm,’ a chest of yellow gold!”

The Captain Kidd tale shows how a legend can take on new life in each retelling. 

Local accounts placed the pirate’s treasure at different ponds, and Clara Augusta Trask later made the story the subject of a poem. Parr said that is how local lore endures: “People sit around, you know, the fire and tell stories, and then they get passed on.” 

For students walking Salem End Road today, the neighborhood’s history is not just a tale of witches or buried treasure, but a reminder of how stories shape a place over time.

Even today, legends continue to develop around the city. Parr described how a ghost story he’d invented for a tour showed up online as if it were established local lore. 

“I made it up. I totally made it up, and turned into a ghost story, saying that if you go down Grove Street here, you’ll see … a ghostly carriage trying to get into the gates.” 

He later found the story on a genealogy site. 

“It had my script that I had written, my story that I made up, written there as like a legend that had been around for years and years.”