THE RISE AND FALL OF SAINT JAMES SCHOOL         
         
 				    Part 3.
                                 School is Out 
    

     In the Mid-Sixties, St. James closed in upon itself, as its founder  
became more visible to the legal community. Local children were no longer
welcome at the school's now-murky swimming pool, or to its tennis courts.
A neighbor, whose son used to play with the students, unexpectedly received 
a formal Cease and Desist Order. Legal skirmishing also involved the school's  
several dogs, its dozen boarding Camp Leo horses (plus their manure output) 
and an escape-artist raccoon. Eventually, much of the grounds were ringed 
with a high chain-link fence.    
     In an extensive and expensive action, Francis engaged in a personal
vendetta against the town's Building Inspector, over various infractions in 
the gymnasium's construction.  The action eventually reached the Connecticut 
Supreme Court, which in May, 1964, found in the official's favor. Stubbornly,
Francis resumed work on the project and was arrested in April the following
year.  A decade later, the dank structure was still in contention.    
 
     By 1965, Troop 60 had vanished, as had most outside athletic programs,
save for local basketball.  State Wards and the sons of transient military 
families brought new disciplinary problems such as drugs, arson at an Upper-
School dormitory, plus shop-lifting and vandalism. Group "mooning" at a local
drive-in theatre and egg-throwing at passers-by seemed to typify the Sixties 
"School Spirit" at St. James. 
     More ominously, neighbors also reported distraught boys knocking late 
at night, either seeking refuge or to call their often indifferent parents.
Others appeared at the Police Station, just across from St. James, with similar
pleas. Some had run-ins with Berlin and even New Britain youths, according to 
residents.  
     The Camp Leo "We're a tough bunch against the World" ethic, was carried
over to St. James School by Francis, as one '60s student recounted, along with
further demonstrations of the Headmaster's short-fuze temper:
    "On one field trip to Hartford on a winter day, we were in the school bus
with Mr. Francis driving, when some kids threw snowballs at us. He promptly 
stopped, opened the door, and ordered us to 'Go Get Them!!' It was like a 
civil war battle right on the side of the road. It was easy for us to get into
such fights, because wherever we went, other kids would make fun of the way 
we were dressed, in our short pants uniforms. 
    We also were kicked out of (Lake Compounce) amusement park. The whole 
school had to leave, and Francis went berserk.
    On another field trip, we were running late, sitting in the bus, and
Francis became very impatient because this crippled student was still on the 
second level of the main house. He had to wear braces to help him move. 
Francis finally lost it. He ran to the top of the stairs and threw the poor 
kid down the entire flight."

     Staffing also became critical, with one new teacher departing after only  
three hours, unable to cope with either the headmaster's perfectionist demands,
or the rowdy student body. In a token attempt to meet the changing social scene,
the conspicuous dress shorts and knickers were dropped, though the Camp Leo 
brief "play shorts" uniform continued to nearly the end.  Ironically now, many
college students on such prestigious area campuses as Trinity, Wesleyan and 
Yale were sporting blue jeans cut or torn off far above knee level. Such scenes
of decadence must have especially rankled Francis, who had long denounced that:
"Dungarees are fit only for barnyard manure-heavers." 
     Mid-decade troubles were also being reported at Camp Leo, with corporal 
punishment on an upswing, with a concurrent decline in staff competency. This
was but a reflection of the nation-wide decline in seminarians and religious
vocations in general. 

    One former student recalled his year's sojourn at SJ in 1968....
    "My mother found SJ in a catalog of catholic boarding schools, though I 
can't ever remember going to church while there. She was probably sold on 
Lenny's verbiage about strict discipline and B...S... about how most of the 
graduates went on to Yale, usually on full scholarships. What a crock! 
    There were 24 students enrolled, including me and my younger brother. 
I was a sophomore in the so-called high school class of four boys. School
actually started up in Camp Leo. We stayed in unheated cabins with no hot 
water from early September until Halloween. We wore the camp outfit of 
kahki short-shorts with brown knee-socks and tacky Boy Scout shoes.
    A few days before our return to SJ, I stepped off a ladder in the barn 
and put a nail through my foot. LWF decided I would stay behind with the 
handyman, and take care of the horses until he returned two days later
to take us and the horses back to SJ. 
    But the next day it snowed about 4 feet, with drifts up to seven feet 
across the road between us and Gilmanton. We were stranded for 5 or 6 days. 
After what little real food ran out we ate Government Surplus peanut butter 
and maple syrup sandwiches. 
    When we were finally reached by the road clearing crews, Lenny was right 
behind them. He told me unceremoniously to hurry up and pack. We got into 
his red T-Bird and raced back to SJ. And I mean raced!! He was going over 
100 Mph. Somewhere near Boston hit a bird while doing around 80 and nearly 
lost control. After surveying the minor damage, it was back up to 80-90 
Mph for most of the rest of the trip. I just now realized that I didn't 
get to eat until late that night.
    Later, we were told to pick through piles of old-fashioned knickers for 
wear at SJ. Myself and a couple of the older boys decided this was not going 
to fly and ripped up most of them. Lenny ended up changing the required 
uniform pants to khaki slacks.
    While academically, the school seemed competent, after-school activities 
left much to be desired. We were left without much supervision except for 
chores better suited for adults. Most work was around the barn and the gym at
School, with tree-clearing and more barn work at Camp. 
    I don't remember much in the way of drugs, but a few of us experimented
with inhalants and snuck out at night a couple of times to buy cough syrup.
I hosted a liquor party after Easter break when I was the proctor of the D-
House on Westview Terrace between Earl and Hudson. About half the school met
here with liquor they had taken from home. We were drinking it right out of 
the bottle, real amateur stuff. We ended by tearing up the place pretty 
good and just about everyone got sick. The three of us that lived there had 
to clean up and cover over our damage before Lenny showed up. I didn't drink 
after that for about four years.
    My younger brother and another kid were kicked out near the end of the
year for backing a jeep (LWF loved GI surplus) into the pool. They were the 
lucky ones, I guess...."

     In early 1968, Francis was again arrested on cruelty charges going back 
to the previous October, but trial action was suddenly dropped, perhaps due 
to the efforts of the school's experienced (and expensive) legal represen-
tation. 1970 thus found St. James School sliding down into its final decade. 

     With the May, 1971 death of his mother, Mary-Ellen Jordan, Francis left 
his Southington roots for good, dividing his time between Berlin and Camp Leo. 
In the fall of 1973, fortunes turned ominously down, with the arrival of new 
"problem boys," and subsequent "disciplinary matters." 
     In January, 1974 Francis was arrested on the complaint of two teens that 
he had physically assaulted them, the previous month.  February found a dozen
or so parents who had withdrawn their children for similar reasons, planning 
to sue for recovery of their $2,000 tuition fees. The outcome was doubtful, 
due to Francis' iron-clad contract provisions. The assault trial was delayed 
until October of 1974, when a six-man jury found for Francis on a technicality
dealing with "lawful force against juveniles by parents, teachers and others 
in authority."  The year ended with the loss of long-term students and staff.  

     Now desperate for students, St. James reluctantly went co-ed in 1975 and  
further relaxed its still-conspicuous dress code, though not to the point of   
admitting blue denims, long or short, to its now-shabby campus.  There were 
reports of school ads of services for autistic children, but without facilities 
or trained staff being available, nothing was done.     
     School opened in September, 1976, with some 15 students, a shadow of its
former self. As a mirror of the situation, its last entries in the Porter-
Sargent Directory carried a caveat; "Students with disciplinary or emotional 
problems are not admitted." The upper age limit was also lowered from 18 to 
13, perhaps to minimize the dangers of near-adult students resisting physical 
discipline.  But these efforts were now largely moot, as seen below.... 
   
     On March 23rd, 1977, the State Division of Children and Youth Services  
descended on St. James, alerted by a report of Potential Child Abuse, filed by 
New Britain Hospital, concerning a teen-aged boy admitted for mouth burns.  
The remaining eleven students were removed temporarily to the Berlin Police 
Department until parents could pick them up.         
     A month later, Francis presented his own version of the incident in an    
interview with the Berlin Eagle, a short-lived weekly newspaper.    
     "The students tell me there's a character on TV who puts lighter fluid    
into his mouth as he sings," he explained. "But he first lines his mouth 
with vaseline. This boy did not." He claimed Some students had returned, and 
blasted the DCYS for its involvement. "An invasion, is what I call it!"  
     He said that despite the school's "Catholic-sounding name," it was not 
affiliated with any religious order. (Indeed, the Archdiocese often went out 
of its way to deny any official connections. Interestingly, its official 
organ, the weekly Catholic Transcript, ceased carrying Camp Leo ads after 
1951, and apparently did not advertise St. James at all.)  No known suits were
filed against the DCYS, perhaps because Francis suffered serious back injuries
in a bulldozer accident at Camp Leo that spring, and had more pressing matters
to contend with. 
     St. James opened for the last time that September, with so few students 
that parents were advised of impending closure. On top came additional 
unfavorable notice, when Channel Three aired an expose of conditions at both 
Camp Leo and St. James.  According to a former teacher, Francis felt that a 
favorable image of his operations would result, and told the few remaining 
staff to co-operate with the interviews. Results, however, were quite other-
wise, and in November Francis announced a $1,000,000 suit against the Hartford
station, plus a demand for equal air time to run pro-camp and school videos. 
Nothing further, however, was ever reported of the matter.... 

     The climax to the year came on December 1st, when State Representative
Peter Rosso of Kensington, as a direct result of the school's notoriety, 
introduced a bill to regulate and license private schools in Connecticut. 
     During the winter of 1977-78, an attempt was made to hold classes at
frigid Camp Leo, perhaps as a trial run for permanent relocation.  But the
now deteriorated facilities soon caused a return to Berlin for a Last Stand.
     After near-unanimous approval in both House and Senate, Governor Ella  
Grasso signed the Rosso Bill into law on May 18th, almost coinciding with St.
James' final closing on the 12th.  As a "last hurrah," Francis declared that
he would have the school "properly licensed." But the rest was silence.... 
 
     As something of an anti-climax, the empty school suffered a year-long 
loss of Tax-Exempt status, due to a corporate musical-chairs game. In 1975, 
the Leo Foundation became the Alumni of St. James School, Inc., then the St.
James School of New Haven, Inc., and, finally, in 1979, the St. James 
Foundation. Camp Leo's ownership also underwent similar slight-of-hand, with 
fatal long-term consequences. 
    
     By 1980, any thoughts of a rebirth had vanished and the axe commenced 
to fall, with the 1811 Brandegee House going to a private buyer. During its 
renovation, an elaborate intercom system was discovered, bolstering previous 
rumors of campus-wide bugging and phone taps.  A local developer then bought 
the remaining property, selling the controversial gymnasium and some other 
buildings to a Tennessee-based Pentecostal Church.  The contractor erected 
seven houses on the former athletic field, giving the new access road the 
ironic name of..."St. James Place." 
     Francis now sued the builder, citing failure to protect "vital school 
records and equipment." The litigation ground on until early 1989, when the 
Superior Court turned down the now ex-headmaster's last appeal for recon-
sideration of an earlier token award of one dollar.   
        
     Following the demise of St. James, Francis removed to Camp Leo, which 
was also in dire straits. The stream of young religious brothers which had 
staffed it had totally dried up and there was physical decay, along with an 
increasingly unsavory reputation. Counselors from abroad and a videoized 
home movie of the once-idyllic camp life failed to restore Leo, submerged 
as it now was in a deluge of suits by un-paid suppliers of goods and services, 
plus actions from outraged parents over deceptive advertising, dangerous 
living conditions and allegations of physical abuse. 

      One of the few co-ed campers at Camp Leo, recalled her brief stay:
"I had the 'honor and priviledge' of being a Camp Leo camper for about 36
hours in the summer of 1986 - when I was ten years old. That summer there 
were 8 (or nine) of us. All girls. Mr. Francis claimed that the boys would 
be coming in August.  He was sweet as pie when our parents dropped us off. 
But changed rapidly once they left. Learning his history from your website 
has helped me understand what happened because I can clearly remember him 
saying he didn't like girls and that boys were much better to deal with.  
I guess he knew there was no way he could get away with hitting young girls.  
"Because of the short time, and my age, I don't remember much about his 
personality except for his actions.  I do remember though, the tremendous 
feeling of relief when the police came to take us away.  We found out later 
that one of the two British counselors there told him that they needed to 
phone home (Francis told us all that the phone had been broken) so he had 
to go into town.  That is when the counselor called the police. All of the 
parents except one pair entered a law suit, which naturally, lasted for 
years...."

     After flunking an environmental inspection in June of 1986, Camp Leo
opened on July 1st, only to be closed down by Superior Court action. By 
summer of 1987, the situation had deteriorated to where over $600,000 in 
liens had been attached to the property. The Daniel Webster Council, BSA, 
now sought to recover its former property, and Francis eventually found 
himself in the position of care-taker, while still planning for Leo's 
next season.  
     That September and October, he circulated a weekly "diary" to a dozen 
or so supporters, describing in detail activities ranging from repairing 
toilets to a variety of fund-raising projects.
     "Why am I doing this?" He asked in an early issue. "If the attorney for 
the Daniel Webster Council of Boy Scouts is successful, I will be looking for 
a home and a job after almost half a century at Camp Leo." (forty years would 
be closer to the truth....) 
     Originally barred from CL, Francis was allowed to feed its horses and 
allowed to act as caretaker to reduce vandalism, theft, etc. apparently by 
arrangement with the court-appointed Conservator. Reading the entries, it 
is obvious he fully expected to be back in operation for the Summer of 1988.
     The entry for September 15th included this rather ominous insight into
Camp Leo's local reputation....
    "(I) found all of our directional signs torn down. As I attempted to 
     erect one, a man and a woman, in separate cars passed.  The woman asked 
     if I was with Camp Leo (and) said "That figures(!)"  The young man (in 
     the other car) screamed obscenities."

     The end came formally in October, 1988, when a court decree dissolved 
the maze of corporate facades, cross-mortgages and interlocking property 
assignments, ordering all assets placed under an Administrator for 
liquidation.  Gilmanton's extensive tax-liens against Camp Leo reportedly 
caused the seizure of certain areas as compensation. 
 
     Francis was apparently still hopeful of opening a new St. James School 
in the South, as he listed his 1990 residence for the Yale Alumni Asso. as 
a box number in Parsons, West Virginia. Here, the former St. George Academy 
had divided his attention with Camp Leo for several years, his goal being a  
ranch-school for troubled youth. Residents recalled him driving around town 
in an old truck and horse van heaped with battered school furniture. But any 
potential local support was negated when reports of St. James' troubled past 
in Berlin surfaced. Mounting financial and health problems ultimately caused 
a return to New Hampshire and a final decline.
 
     The long and now lonely trail ended quietly, via a stroke, in the 
Manchester (NH) Veterans Hospital on July 22, 1992. An obituary notice in
a Middletown newspaper cited only his graduation from Yale. There was no 
mention of Camp Leo or St. James School, activities dominating Lenoard W. 
Francis' entire adult life. Burial was held in Southington's Oak Hill 
Cemetery, five days later, where most of the area's once large Francis clan 
are now interred.  There were no calling hours. 
     Thus, after a forty-five-year separation, Camp Leo returned to the 
Daniel Webster Council, and is now Camp Bell, a unit of the Hidden Valley
Boy Scout Reservation. The Francis Estate was finally settled in the summer 
of 1996, and contained little save for a 1947 Yale class-ring.
 
     As for the once notorious school, only the "St. James Place" sign on
Hudson Street serves as a reminder. However, with the passing of time, the 
name will more and more be associated with the Monopoly board game. Here, 
the St. James Place property has space for rent-producing houses and even a 
hotel, but the otherwise elaborate rules fail to make any provisions for a 
school.... 

                              Epitaph/Epigram    
    
     An Epitaph for Leonard Francis might be seen in the context of two 
famous novels dealing with boarding school life: "Good Bye, Mr Chipps" 
by James Hilton, and Charles Dickens' "Nicholas Nickelby."    
    "He wanted to be remembered as another Mister Chipping of Brookfield
School, but ended up as a clone of Whackford Squeers, master of the infamous 
Dotheboys (do-the-boys) Hall, instead...."    
  
                                References:       
     
Extensive St. James School entries in The New Britain Herald, ca 1954-1980 

Camp Leo Newsletters and Catalogs, 1946-1953 

St. James School Newsletters, 1958 

New Britain and Southington City Directories.     

Interviews with former campers, students and staff members of St. James 
School and Camp Leo, plus Berlin area residents.   
 
St. James Asso. Camp Leo land dispute with Daniel Webster Council, BSA, 
1985-87. Belknap Superior Court, Laconia: E-85-0088 and NH Supreme Court: 
86-391. 
 
Frederick W. Chesson		         Last Major Revision: Aug, 2002



  The chimney of the ruined Dining Hall rises as a stark memorial to
Camp Leo, the first and last enterprise of Leonard W. Francis.