The crowd grew silent, stilled by an emotion too big for cheers. For weeks
the citizens of Worcester had planned this Fourth of July welcome for the
men who had returned from the battlefields of the Civil War. The streets were
arched with scores of stilted phrases which tried to do justice to the
occasion. "To be Free is to be Strong," said one; "The Heart of the
Commonwealth Greets the Defenders of the Union," another; and "Reap the
Fields your Valor Won," still another. The parade itself was longer than any
other ever held in Worcester, with men from every Worcester County
regiment and six thousand children in the line. For two and a half miles the
march continued before it halted at the grand and new Mechanics Hall, where
speeches and refreshments had been planned to conclude the celebration.
Then there it was, flying several hundred feet up in the air above the
crowd, against the backdrop of a blue sky and with its colors blazing in the
glare of a noonday sun--an American flag, fastened to a string held by a
little boy with a kite.
All the stars were there--all thirty-six of them.
This was a year, 1865, that would go down in history. It had been in this
year, on the ninth of April, that the bells of the City had rung to mark the
surrender of General Lee. Less than a week later they had rung again when
news had come of the assassination of President Lincoln. And many the
words then spoken would be remembered a hundred years later, when
another president was slain also on a Friday and succeeded by a man named
Johnson.
No more than a week after President Lincoln's funeral, a bill was
introduced in the Massachusetts Legislature petitioning for the
incorporation of a school to be known as the Worcester County Free
Institute of Industrial Science.
It is incredible that through this kaleidoscope of April events the misty
picture of a non-existing school should have persisted so clearly. At this
point John Boynton's ideas for a school were no more than a vague wish for
"the promotion of the welfare and happiness" of his fellow men, but it was a
tenacious wish.
In its favor was the fact that civilization loves to give attention and
apportion credit to initial endeavor, even though progress has always
depended on continuation of effort.
In this case the immediate link between wish and fulfillment was David
Whitcomb. It was he who picked up the fragile seed, almost lost forever in
the indifference of a country village, to transplant it in fertile soil where there
would be a chance for growth.
It was January of 1865 before David Whitcomb talked to anyone at all
about the school, and then it was to his pastor, Seth