by Carlene Phillips ·
Friday, July 3, 2026
The property at 87 Ayer Road, which was recently purchased by the Harvard Conservation Trust and is now called the Farwell Quarry, has a varied history as the longtime home of a stonecutter and then an orchardist.
A list of deeds for the property, adjacent to the old Pin Hill blue-slate quarry, shows that David Kendall was living there in 1796 and sold it to Asa Warner. In 1816, Luther Farwell, a stonecutter, bought the property. Years later, in 1840, Farwell purchased the Pin Hill slate quarry that abutted his property. If it is true, as rumor has it, that the cellar of the recently demolished house at 87 Ayer Road has many unfinished gravestones, those slate slabs may well be “mistakes” discarded by Farwell.
According to Henry Nourse’s “History of Harvard,” the blue slate of Pin Hill was quarried for gravestone slabs very early in the history of the town, and the majority of the memorials in the Center Cemetery probably came from there. The oldest memorial stone is that of Ebenezer Davis, dated May 1735. As well, quarried slate was sold to surrounding towns. The slabs were detached from the ledge by splitting them away with wedges, and the slate was then transported to a stonecutter’s yard to be skillfully shaped and finished. Farwell was among several other stonecutters in Harvard, Lancaster, and Groton. One name listed by Nourse as an early artisan is Enoch Kendall, who may have been a relative of the Kendall listed first on the deed of the 87 Ayer Road house.
In 1819 the memorial stone industry is mentioned in town records when the town authorized an expansion of the quarry to the north. Nourse describes how some of the workmen kept in stock a collection of sample head- and footstones in various sizes set up “in a grim row by the roadside” to attract customers.
About 1842 the firm of Winslow, Folsom, and Company of Lowell proposed to revolutionize the process of quarrying and create a more lucrative industry. They used blasting powder, but when the thousands of tons of slate thrown from the side of the hill shattered, rendering the stone useless, the company was forced to conclude that the old-fashioned way was better and cheaper, and they abandoned the project. Isaac N. Stone continued the manufacture of slate until 1863. By that time, marble and granite had become the fashion in mortuary monuments, and the quarry fell into disuse.
Engraving on the early slate gravestones was relatively simple, with inscriptions in capital letters of plainest print. Occasionally there was a death’s head in low relief. After the mid-1700s stones were larger, the lettering more elaborate, and winged cherubs replaced the death’s head. In the last quarter of the 18th century, the cherub was still popular, but a draped urn was coming into use. Epitaphs became more elaborate. After 1800, a weeping willow was a popular image of grieving. By the mid-1800s, the more popular granite obelisks or elaborate marble monuments in the cemetery stood in stark contrast to the early low memorials of native slate and simple design.
In 1889 Farwell’s estate sold the property to Edwin F. Houghton, a descendent of Simon Willard, settler of Harvard in the 17th century. Houghton was one of the pioneers of cultivating McIntosh apples, and he set out 150 trees. Some thought him foolish because the fruit was susceptible to scab, but by 1919 he had a highly lucrative business. In addition to the monetary success of the orchard, it was popular because of the “Houghton Special.” This was a car with oak wheels that carried the fruit downhill to the barn on a railroad built of wooden two-by-fours. According to orchardist Frank Abbot in an essay appearing in “History of Harvard: Enter the New Century 1880-1940,” everyone in town was reported to have had a ride in it, including all the schoolteachers. On one occasion the car got out of control and went through the wall of the barn, but no injuries or serious damage resulted. In 1939 Houghton sold the property to Donald Phelps, who was related to the Houghton line. Thirty years and several short-time owners later, Kenneth VanWormer purchased the house.
An undated real estate ad, most likely from sometime shortly before 1969, describes the property as having 29 pristine acres of gardens and lawn with a brook and small pond. The “restorable” house had 14 rooms with original doors and hardware and seven fireplaces. A 20th-century addition had created extra bedroom space. There was a 900-square-foot guest cottage, a four-bay carriage shed, and a free-stall barn.
In recent years, residents driving by have watched the once-stately white house deteriorate, collapsing on itself bit by bit. It became unsafe to enter, and, as the new owner, HCT hired a company certified to deal with hazardous material to demolish the main house and other buildings. The huge center chimney with smoke chambers was, as a photo in last week’s Press article testified, the only thing standing.