I went to the Topsfield Fair for the first time when I was 7 years old. I remember a spinning ride in the shape of a strawberry, spitting rain, and the Dropkick Murphys playing in the background. The second time I went was two Saturdays ago, and it’s safe to say that I was left with a vastly different impression.
As I made the long drive up from my apartment in the west end of Boston, I was preoccupied with a notion that there’s something funny about this fair. I know that it’s an institution; at 203 years old, the event predates my family’s arrival in America by about a century.
But, I mean, an agricultural fair in the Boston suburbs? It’s a shock to me that our state even has a 4-H chapter but, lo and behold, it had a whole building dedicated to it at the fair, just like you’d see in Iowa or Oklahoma.
It’s not like Massachusetts doesn’t have agricultural roots. Based on the foundation of the colony itself, we actually have a longer farming tradition than most of the country’s. But Greater Boston is also famous for how difficult it was to tame in the Colonial days. In fact, all of New England is. Rocky soil, cold winters, settlers who had to learn growing techniques from Native Americans; it’s all part of the bedrock of our country’s history.
There are areas of the commonwealth that remain devoted to farming, including the prized orchards of Middlesex County where I grew up, and all of the agricultural strides our state made should be given their due. But I wondered as I wandered among the blue-ribbon chickens and prize produce, do we really have enough of an agricultural tradition to base a two-century-old fair around?
Not that I’m complaining in the slightest. I had an honest-to-God blast.
For fairness’ sake (no pun intended), I should note that I’ve never been to any of the other Great Agricultural Fairs of Our Nation. But it’s not too much of a stretch to imagine what they’re like. If your state is known for dairy farming, there’ll likely be butter sculptures. If your state is known for potatoes, you might see the World’s Biggest Potato during your visit. If your state popularized the combine harvester, you could be lucky enough to watch the crowning of this year’s Miss Combine Harvester. What is Massachusetts’ bailiwick? I always thought it was clams.
After I came home with a belly full of fried foods and a head full of happy memories, I decided that I wanted to probe my feelings of incongruity a bit. So I decided to do some research, and here’s what I found:
In terms of agriculture-fair history, the Topsfield Fair and its host state are precedent setters.
The Massachusetts Society for Promoting Agriculture was one of the first societies of its kind in America, founded in 1792. The Essex Agricultural Society, organizers of the Topsfield Fair, was established not long after, in 1818. That organization started by holding cattle shows that expanded over the century into a fair, first held in Haverhill, then Peabody, then finally and permanently in Topsfield in 1910 at the site of the old Treadwell Farm, donated to the Essex Agricultural Society in 1956. Thanks, Wikipedia!
So it’s astoundingly old. In fact, the founding of the Essex Agricultural Society comes only a few years after the incorporation of the first agricultural fair in America, in 1807. Guess where that shindig took place? Pittsfield, Mass.
Who knew that Massachusetts was the pioneer of agricultural fairs? To put it in perspective, we’ve been doling out produce and livestock prizes for almost 80 years longer than that mother of all farm-industry gatherings, the Texas State Fair.
But what of the agriculture industry itself? It’s not like Massachusetts can back up our long state-fair history with a farming industry of corresponding size.
Inquiring minds must know the truth, however, and it’s a good thing for me that mass.gov has a page on state agriculture stats. Turns out, Essex County is light on the farm side, with less than three percent of its land area devoted to agriculture. (Franklin County, by comparison, is the most farm dense, at roughly 17 percent.) As of 2017, most of our farming efforts were devoted to greenhouse and nursery products, which probably has a lot to do with our rocky, rocky soils and our cold, cold winters. Our state has 7,241 farms on 491,000 acres making more than $475 million per year. We’re also home to ― No. Really. ― 40 agricultural fairs. (Including the Boston Poultry Expo; see you there!)
I won’t bore either of us with any more specifics, suffice to say that those numbers are pretty low compared to most other states. It’s another example of something originating “back East” that the rest of the country ran away with.
We know what we’re good at in Massachusetts. We are exceptional in our industries, and we celebrate our accomplishments accordingly. But we’re still a part of this country, and this country was founded on farming and agriculture. We might as well celebrate that, too.
But we do it in our own way. Sure, the Topsfield Fair featured a “Mrs. Essex County” pageant, fried twinkies, and other things we Puritans might normally roll eyes at. But by and large, the Topsfield Fair is unique as these kinds of fairs go ― it could not exist anywhere other than the Bay State.
Kiosks hawked lobster rolls, iced coffee, and Italian food. The trade expo building was devoted more to the sciences than to harvesting equipment. A Democratic state senator won a blue ribbon for her livestock entry. (Congrats on your first-place duck, Sen. Joan Lovely!) Booth operators hawked “wicked good” prizes. And when the sun set over the midway, with blinking LED lights and the smell of cotton candy filling the New England night, the lines for rides were just as long as anywhere else in the country.
